letters. I love cards and letters and packages, all. I love when the mailperson is bringing love and doesn’t even know it. A circular of joy. Junkjoy.
thunderstorms. There is one going on here now, as I type. Oh my goodness, I love them. The thrill of uncertainty, the noise, the pound. BOOM. chills.
making stuff. Its not even something I do that often anymore, but I do love it so. And I love watching other people do it, and I love thinking about the simplicity beneath all of it. How many crafts are just a variation of tying a knot? You know? Embroidery, knitting? I love it. Use your hands. Use them.
funny people. OH HELLS YES.
my dog. Honestly, I’ve been resisting loving him because there are so many people around me, but oh brother, I do. I love my dog. He’s a full-on reprobate.
healthcare workers. The hospital doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, orderlies, cnas, all of them who have been working like this for eight months now, and are still trying to have lives outside of work. I’ll have a wierd week this week, but damnit, I wish I could send you the little resilience I have. You’re holding us all up right now.
pam. I love my friend pam. She’s my bestie. She is a nurse in Wisconsin. So dig that. She’s number 6 and number 7, and also number 4. She’s shorter than me, too, and yet not a person with dwarfism, so she is rather amazing. She’s got a kid named Carter who draws a lot. I haven’t seen her in a long time. but man, she is good.
first snowfalls. I may be getting repetitive in my lists, but seriously, a love list? again? How can there be too many? FIRST SNOWFALLS!! Everyone is thrilled, whether they have the wits to recognize it or not.
darkness. Really, it is true, especially in winter, in storm. The storm is making it dark outside, dark in the corners of my kitchen. And in the darkness, the lights I’ve got sprinkled throughout the house are magical. And fierce.
A friend sent me a bookplate for the book she wrote that I STILL cannot find anywhere. But this is what it said, “To Kate, fierce, funny and great. the internet is terrible but I am glad it brought me you.” Kerry Clare SO I SAY TO YOU ALL: I am glad it brought me you!!
2. I can’t always make a decision. I’m often fine with just going along, and one, it makes someone else happy or two, it frustrates someone. but truly, if i can’t make a decision about something, its because I don’t frigging care. What’s for dinner? I do not care. Almost always, I do not care.
3. Fear. “I can’t do that really well right off the bat, so I’m not going to.”
4. Insecurity holds hands with fear and fear leads it into a swamp full of gators and snakes.
5. Desire is not an obstacle, in and of itself. But when there is desire, one can chew one’s own arm off in the pursuit of its satisfaction, and that knowing can become an obstacle TO the desire, in the first place. Dig that one? Convoluted but still true. Takes some age to get that one.
6. Fear. “If I try that, I might not succeed and everyone will know I am a loser.”
7. Exhaustion. Seriously. Enough already.
8. Fear. “Too many changes. Too many changes. I can’t handle anymore.”
9. The sheer number of chairs I have in my house is an obstacle. I mean, what the hell? How did that happen?
10. Mess. Mess. I used to not be afraid of it, and now I have to consider if the mess is worth the cleanup. This is a sea change. I’m getting old.
Don’t worry about me because I write morose stuff. Soon I’ll hit the ‘how to blow up fears’ list. Its just a moment, a prompt. Chill.
Today is the anniversary of my father’s death. I’m not focusing on what I have lost, but on where I am winning.
BIG TIME WINNING.
I’ve already had some minutes of kitchen dancing, trying to untie my knots. arms flinging. mostly soundtracked by pharrell.
I’ve got a new cup of coffee and its not bad. I’ve cleaned the counter behind the coffee maker and under the toaster. I’m winning.
I’ve taken my antidepressants. also winning.
am realizing I need to take care of my eyes better, and that might mean I fork out money for the glasses from the eye glass place, which galls me to no end. I just want to yell schiester! all the time, and I’m pretty sure my grip on yiddish is nonexistent and i don’t know how to spell that.
I’m reading a book called Invisible City by Julia Dahl which takes places all around a Hasidic community in New York, so I’m an expert on Yiddish now. (#4 and #5 are slightly contradictory, i know. but facts are irrelevant.) Its good, by the way, the main character is a plucky smart barfly reporter, with ties to the community that she’d rather ignore. I bet she’s going to help solve the murder, but I’m just a quarter in. dig it.
This year is the first time in my life I will not be seeing my extended family for the weekend after Thanksgiving. IN MY LIFE. (Unless I was in a foreign country.) This is a big deal. You and me both, probably. It makes me a little sick. But I’m winning, somehow, because I will take the kids for a walk on the beach no matter what the fucking weather, because I fucking want to and pneumonia is NOTHING at this point. except that I’d have to treat it at home. whatever. WINNING.
fucking hell, I don’t feel like it.
I always fight against the anniversary of his death day, even when it was happening I was saying, no, no, we have to celebrate his BIRTHDAY, not this. not this. But its inevitable, and I carry it every November. ten days after the last photo I have of him, at my daughter’s first birthday. Sigh. Fucking fuck.
I tried to drink heavily last night but made it through half a can of drink and was feeling wasted, so stopped. I think it was maybe 7 pm. I am just no good at the drinking heavily. I love my mornings, see? except maybe today. But that there is a lie. I even like today’s morning, its gorgeous, and I should really take care of the chickens.
I keep looking around the yard, seeing the stuff that needs to be done before real winter. who the hell am i? when did this happen? I also deal with the fact that I might be one of those people who end up with a rusting out car in the yard, because I just can’t muster up the energy to make it matter. I did put the grill away though. So there. ( I hope I never end up with a car in my yard, I mean, couldn’t I sell it or something? )
Sigh. Guys. Not my best work, I grant you. Here’s to today. rah.
It is Friday, and I decided to come to the beach after dropping off my one school-attender. Its so beautiful here. I am incredibly lucky. Plus! I wrote in handwriting, in a journal I later dreamed of during a guided meditation. I am a weirdo on fire, let it be said. There really is something about pen and paper writing, and I love it, and also know there is so much more that happens here because of the speed of type. I’m almost fast enough to catch my brain as it moves, in type.
but here’s my beach list.
the stones, piles and piles of stones, remembering Block Island cairns, remembering my Dad.
The water is turbid- grey green sandy with all the tumult- the color of my eyes.
the seagull has decided to sit- my spirit animal.
the salty water smell- one window open, the car shakes in gusts of wind and smell.
the light on the rocks- beauty only because of the shadow. amazing how that is, right?
the car moves. its like being on a boat, on land. today is too rough to actually be on a boat for pleasure. being here, though, brings back many boats, many times on the water, many sad, many beautiful.
I see the cars across the water, across the causeway on another beach, silver glimmers, giant suncatchers.
the birds flying are the narrower sort, the seagulls are hunkered down, dozens of them.
the sound is continuous, soft roar. “Remember I’m here.” it whispers in an odd cadence. “or not. I will outlast you all.”
the wind pushes the water like kneading. waves as palm pulses.
All I want to do is go to salvation army, turn in my things and browse the rest of the Christmas items.
All I want to do is buy stuff.
And eat. I also want to eat a lot but still lose weight and fit better in my clothes. Cheese, I tell you, cheese. My mom is 75 and saying the same thing. I give myself til 70, then i will start smoking again and eat whatever the fuck i want.
All I want is to have a little bit of certainty in my life. Is that a ghost? Is that a mirage, at this point? When death waits at the end of everything? What am I, delusional?
All I want is two minutes in the same mood.
All I want is for my kids to be happier. I know school sucks and teenagery years are full of vomit and exile and wretchedness sometimes, but this whole ‘not seeing friends’, not ‘bumping into people’ thing? Suckage.
I inadvertently have a dog and a cat that are both pitch black. All I want is one room where the corners are not grey with fur. What the hell, All I want is one corner that stays hair free forever. Just one.
All I want is to find the freaking book I can’t find. I searched the recycling bin today in case I recycled it in the box it came in. This was a dry search thankfully as paper and cardboard are rather pleasant to rifle. No luck though. Where the fuck did I put it?
All I want is this exact house, but smaller, so there would be less cleaning. If every room were just ten percent smaller? Ideal. I do not know what I’m going to do when the next shoe drops. I guess sell. Which is all sorts of defeated. It does not bear looking into currently.
All I want is to eat all the roasted vegetables. I just want someone else to peel and seed and chop. Its that whole personal chef thing again. I guess I’m just feeling wishy lately. Maybe that’s the real reason for the season? Or Season for this reason? To give us the hope to dream again? To give in to the darkness with a flickering light? Our little sparkles out there in the large dark winter. . .