A Tistket A Tasket
Outside my window... rain, rain, go away, come again another day
I am thinking... why am I not living the life I want for myself on so many levels--how can I be that off course?
From the learning rooms... there are a lot of songs about rain. I'd be hard pressed to pick one favorite. I was thinking of posting Dee Clarke's "Raindrops," but then my thoughts drifted to how much I love songs about rain and airplanes. Neil Young has a great song called "Look Out For My Love," and the last stanza has him out on the runway with "hydraulic wipers pumping...but no one listens."
I am thankful for... not having dementia
From the kitchen... tonight? Jasper White's (a New England chef) three-cheese macaroni and cheese. I'll be freezing this. It feeds an army.
I am wearing... black and red. Suitable for attending a Suprematism exhibit or invading Poland.(see: mac and cheese.)
I am reading... old issues of Architectural Digest to ditch them and re-reading Raymond Chandler's Payback. The only thing I would recommend that I've read in the past two weeks is Peter Ackroyd's Poe: A Life Cut Short....and if anyone ever died screwed up and unfilfilled, try Poe.
I am hoping... I can shake this horrible mood
I am creating...I'm forcing more self-taught Photoshop tutorials on myself to stretch and learn
I am praying...that I can have the life I want, and not die feeling so disappointed
Around the house... chaos and dealing with the dead....still. Does it ever end?
One of my favorite things... I photographed them: the alliums in my yard. They are past their glory, but they stay fascinating in decay. I plant "Globemaster," which have heads that can grow 11 inches wide. They are part of the "big ball" allium hybrid group, so yes, there is even inferiority about "size," in the floral kingdom.
A few plans for the rest of the week...getting this massive amount of paperwork under control, going over to the dead person's house to continue emptying it out. I will have to force myself. I am burnt out on disposing of these things, and the idea of crawling up in an attic, which is decades of untouched old filth and hauling this stuff down and out is just.....depressing.
Here is a picture thought I am sharing with you... flying at night with dim lights in the airplane cabin, tracing the lights on the ground below and realizing that you are seeing where the shoreline meets the ocean. It sounds so romantic in French: vol de nuit...flight of night.