It was a good day to get an ice cream cone at BR. I always get chocolate chip. Always. I never waver. BR has especially good chocolate chip.
It was a good day to hang pictures and plates. The apartment is beginning to look like our space.
It was a good day to make chili and eat it at the cleared table. We bought a round table. So friendly and intimate.
It was not a good day to read A RELIABLE WIFE by Robert Goolrick, a #1 NY Times bestseller.
Disturbing characters trying to live out their lives in Wisconsin of 1908. "Suspenseful and erotic."
I may be beyond erotic.
It was a good night to watch a few TV programs. We have TV again. We like to watch replays of
Criminal Minds. I like the FBI characters. The cases are always serial killers and grim.
I guess if I had to choose between erotic and violent. I prefer violent.
It was a good day to drive the Miata and sing Carly Simon songs
This was a great post! I needed to hear about a good day. The only thing I can do on your list is wax my eyebrows, however, so I am off to the salon.
ReplyDeleteOne of my fondest memories with my mother was when we would drive around town in her Miata convertible - the Enya 'Watermark' tape in the deck, and us singing at the top of our lungs along to "Orinoco Flow.'
ReplyDeleteIt was a good day. Thank you for this post.
Your last several blog entries have set me on quite a bread crumb trail. Sort of like the stepping stones in 2nd Peter chapter 1, where he ends by saying we have the 'more sure' word of prophecy, which is like a light in dark places, until our own light breaks like a 'day star' in our hearts.
ReplyDeleteYour thoughts and anecdotes led me to a cast of analogies from Othello, King Lear, Lord of the Rings, and The West Wing. And food.
I identified with your characterization of 'stuff.' How 'stuff' feels like a bolt holding us to the planet. The feelings of comfort and safety in solid things from arms wrapped around you to a cup of ice cream. The desire for comfort and safety. The fear of death pushed aside for a while with the filling up of our senses with 'stuff.' How heavy that all can become and the need to off-load.
You mentioned TV reruns of Criminal Minds. My reruns lately have been The West Wing. One episode begins with the President listening to an opera aria - the Willow Song in Otello. I listened to several versions of the song on iTunes. My two favorites are Joan Sutherland and Mirella Freni. Joan has been a favorite since high school.
Then off to Shakespeare's general use of a Willow Tree with Desdemona, Emilia, and Ophelia. Like a gateway of sorrow and vanity to death and passing over. And of our very 'through a glass darkly' understanding. I thought of Gloucester, how Wendell Berry uses him to set up his book. Gloucester's had his eyes gouged out (which were loosely compared to food - out out vile jelly), is now wandering hopeless and renounces life, lucky in a disguised son who fools him and then reminds him, "Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again."
To different kinds of hunger, all fueled by a wish for safety, for fulfillment, for love, for power... One table is that of Shelob the spider, who, like Iago, has taken the hunger to an unbridled extreme and feeds and feeds to fill up the senses and stave off death, boredom, and a sense of powerlessness (have I repeated that enough?).... To the table of Christ, one that is finer, lighter, and harder for some of us to trust or even recognize. One table is where we end up eaten. One is where we eat. When 'stuff' presents itself so willingly, it's difficult to believe or find comfort in the 'more sure' word.
There's more about a 'light in dark places' and the light given to Frodo by Galadriel. Something about Sam. Something about the gravity, the electric pull toward solid things. There are those of us who feel too close to some mixture of Gloucester and Iago, tempted to grab hold of that electric wire. Once you grip it with both hands, it is physiologically impossible to let go on your own. Someone has to push you. Like Edgar pushed his father then showed him his error. Like Sam came back for Frodo. Jeremiah to the Israelites.
It's still a bunch of loose thoughts but I'm circling in on something for myself.
I love your bit about the black sheep knitting and the help of master knitters.
And yes, I agree. Sometimes it is a good day for BR chocolate chip. My favorite has always been mint chocolate.