“In in order to cook, you have to know how to eat, know what you’re looking for.”
“There’s always a moment of beauty, even in the moment of worst atrocity.”
She lived thru war, refugee camp, going from a house/family compound of servants and a chef for each cuisine to living starting again from nothing as part of an immigrant family in Quebec.
Less verbatim she said, we can choose. There’s enough beauty in life to occupy us. An abyss can happen at any time. You can die looking down the abyss or die with the last image being the beauty of the sky. Why would you want to see the abyss all the way down?
Kind of elated, kind of tired. Kind of incomplete because there’s so much left.
Still, headway is headway.
Our renovation is coming. We have a floor most of the way across a room. Camping out in the downstairs is actually kind of fun. There’s a nice morning light there. There’s a heating vent shooting right at my elbow all night.
I have slept well for feel-like-unprecedented 4 days in a row. Good sleep = optimism.
I’m knee deep in 3 different manuscripts of mine and in the layout of 2 others for others. Knee deep isn’t nearly deep enough to swim but it’s a start.
I have sent out the second newsletter. (If you want to sign up, here.)
Return to the gardening’s slow lane. We’ve only have the slightest lightest touch of frost. Kale, cucumbers and tomatoes are still producing. The beans would have been too had we got to them first.
Not your type of thing? This for type geeks may be fun to explore: Typewriter Database.
There’s also this rather delightful article on punctuation. Beth Hill writes, “the semicolon brings a rhythm to sentences that other punctuation can’t offer[...] sometimes you want the feel that only a semicolon produces.”
Yay Words has flash fiction hybridized with haibun. Interesting dense effect.
It’s hard to remember to not keep busy-busy momentum going until depletion. Full stops have their uses too.
As gratifying as it was to get my LinkedIn profile updated, and some submissions sent out, and books read, and poems edited, physical work feels like more was done.
To take a page from Kate Braid, these hips were made for carrying flooring. The lot of it carried upstairs. Sometimes by 5 boards when I felt strong. 3 boards per load when I felt like resting. Another stage is done. Woo. Whew.
The best part of teamwork, beyond doing something together might be the get hot, shirtless parts. A perk.
And under the carpet and its underpadding, there are surprises like:
We were in the running for a corner Jacuzzi from the previous occupants? But got a closet there instead. Ah well, easy no come, not go.
All that tile is ripped out. Places on the floor look as dodgy in person as they did thru carpet. They are still to fix or shim or something.
We’re trying to take it bit by bit to not overdo it. At the same time, we’re eager to get it done and get the dander and allergen collectors gone and good solid, unsqueaky bamboo in. That’ll be sweet.
I swear I spend more time behind than a horse’s tail because at least that has time to get up and swat flies.
Ambition’s the problem. Or is that greed for knowledge?
I’m always in a pall of fatigue after a bit of writers fest after I try to press a lot thru my brain.
This pacing thing can be hard. Especially on Day 6 of a wondrously varied headache that sometimes seems to crest towards migraine aura then recedes to something like sinus headache than takes a crack at normal old headache across the crown. A wee peep in the night and something riding a digestive bronco. Gut-busting I tell ya this falling asleep towards dawn.
Had a dream that I finished a book of sonnets and took one last scansion glance and it was all strictly in trochees.
Ah well, should be time to r&r now that home reno has started, right, right?