The way I feel. A bit shaggy (need a haircut), a bit dusty (no rain), small, sort of (what's the look on his face?) depressed? restful? resigned? windblown? All of the above applies to my mood for the last four days. Too many details can destroy any sense of well-being that may have accidentally slipped into my thinking. So I decided to take a short break (details be gone!) and just muse a bit here. Unfortunately my musings keep taking me to a cottage on a balmy Bahamian beach, barefoot (that's balmy, not barmy) and it's hard to multi-task effectively in that state of mind.
My daughter sent me a text message that read:
don't wait for the storm to be over, dance in the rain! Good advice and just what I needed at exactly that moment. She's trying to dance, too. No matter how distant in years and miles, mothers and daughters sometimes have a mysterious bond that asserts itself in unlikely times and places. I'm grateful - it wasn't my fate with my mother.
And then it got cool and rained a couple of days ago. My mind immediately flew to wool. Something other than the endless round of socks that I seem to be stuck in - as I am every summer. I rummaged around in my stash and came up with this lovely stuff.
Southwest Weaving's Rio Grande hand-dyed sport weight merino. I have lots of it and SW Weaving is gone. The colors are rich and appealing and I'm thinking clapotis again. It would be the perfect project to bring along on my writing retreat in July. Almost mindless (the knitting, not the writing) and no pressure to knit a second matching one or even finish it in quick-time. And it won't take up much room in my bags. So, tonight, if I am not once again bogged down in details, emotions, words and numbers, I will begin it. If sanity holds.
And this is the end,
the car running out of road,
the long nose of the photographed horse
touching the white electronic line.
Billy Collins makes me think and laugh. This excerpt is from "Aristotle," in
Sailing Alone Around the Room.
