Blogging? Why not? Word doesn’t approve of the word blogging. Treats it with red wiggely lines. Wordless disapproval.
The sunflower in the yard, bent over, seedless head, just received a covering of snow. Snow on the sun. Sounds like a contradiction.
Like my life. My life is rather contradictory lately. Why?
Well, my friend moved out, with most of his stuff, but not all of his stuff. His place, in the country is filling up and speaks new and exciting. My place on the other hand is emptying, but not quite, and in a sort of desolate state. Life changing. Missing the count- on presence of the other.
Nothing bad. Friendship unharmed. Just transformation. Spending time here and there. Having to bring some sort of harmony back into my place. The trick is to create a new atmosphere. Not quite as it was when I lived alone before. I am not that person anymore. Not so that I oust the other. Still need a place accommodating him and young children frequently. It’s a different story. Needs a different setting.
The dilemma required more thinking than doing for a while. Crying made thinking difficult. Emotions attack logical brains. Cripple them severely.
Yesterday some more common sense crept in. Ha, my living room looks great now. Accommodates all needs. Magic.
New problem. The rest of the house is still in shambles. So I find every excuse in the book to be in my living room and relax. Phone someone. Read a bit. Have a hot chocolate. A treat. Linger over it as long as possible. Walk the dog.
I did all that. It is noon by now. Running out of excuses to be brave and deal with other rooms. More change. Not only the move out. Also the season change. Warm to cold. Rain. Wind. Snow, a little. Frost, a little. Not in any specific order. Why would I not feel unsettled unless I am in my living room?
Well, there you go. I wrote a blog and will post it. My last excuse. Wish me luck. Maybe by tonight I did a good amount of unchaosing. Are you surprised that Word doesn’t like that word either? Word has no understanding of poets. Not set up for poetic licenses.