musings of a melancholic: flowers

Showing posts with label flowers. Show all posts

the lilacs have wilted
but the roses have bloomed.
this time of year is full of sad deaths
and replacing growth.

Oh, and this:

Oh late summer, you great bringer of things, you.

:: a second bloom of roses ::

:: fresh lemons from california ::

:: huge zucchini's and summer squash from mom's garden ::

:: a booze delivery from california ::

:: mom's late season blackberry pie from berries picked yesterday ::

:: friends home ::

A few items of random note:

A new mantra (shamelessly stolen from a bumper sticker): Eat Good, Feel Good.
Also, it feels really good to feel good. It feels terrible to feel badly. Let us all remember this when we are tempted to harshly judge others' capacities.
Of all the spring blooms, I think I love lilacs the best. Don't tell the lilies, daphne, or jasmine. I have been waiting and waiting for her arrival. Upon returning from a weekend in San Francisco, she was here. I could have cried.
This week we are finally going to finish Star Trek Voyager. Then we can continue my Star Trek education with The Next Generation. Out of order, yes. One cannot help when one becomes interested, I guess.
I cannot believe that I have only 14 weeks left before I meet my very own baby. I feel the clouds of dread dissipating, and in their place stands a vessel that is growing deeper and deeper. No doubt, this is the preparation for the love I will hold for my daughter.
I've been editing papers lately (I was a teacher after all). I forgot the deep satisfaction it brings to assist others;there is no other feeling quite like it. While I can not envision myself back in a classroom setting, I feel rather certain (and excited) that teaching isn't done with me yet.
I am reading the most amazing book. Really, I am so disappointed I didn't write it.

You know, there was a time wherein I spent my days in domestic success nesting and finding true contentedness without needing the external stimulation of work to feel purposeful. It was hard work, actually. Not to mention, it took me several months to find my way.

Many of you have friends and family (like I do) who stay home and make their own living. It is quite tempting to assume their lives are carefree and eternally vacation-like. Yes, they could stay in their PJs all day, eat Bon Bons, and watch Days of Our Lives, but the ones I know - they just don't. Yes, they can go shopping or to coffee on a whim, but what they don't mention is just how hard it is to give themselves the excuse to do these things when self-employed, how hard it is to leave the house. The glamour of PJs wears off after a few days, Bon Bons start making you sick, Days of Our Lives becomes a sad reflection of this mentally-lazy culture, and the financial need to making your own way results in a ridiculous amount of pressure and way more than 8-hours/day in the studio.

I took myself out for a long-overdue writing date this last week. I needed to brain dump in a very bad way. After 4 pages and one sore middle finger, I realized that I was beginning to feel desperately empty in my own home. In between the lines of going back to work, and then the fiasco of trying to get pregnant, the depression of months of infertility, and then the joyus but subsequent pregnancy wherein I could do naught but sleep and vegetate to Star Trek, I lost my practice at home-making.

Recently I began to fear this lack of self-motivation because I know there is a little lady forming inside of me who will take over my life here shortly. It is very tempting to continue to be status quo in home-making because I know she will fill me with purpose and busy-ness anew. Dears, I do not want her to be the only reason I get out bed come August. And to be honest, right now - little else but the thought of her does. I decided I needed to mentally slap myself and remember the things I used to do to bring me internal stimulation and give my day structure and meaning outside of an external job.

The Madame's Formula for Domestic Bliss:

Bring awareness to my daily rituals - tasks easy enough to check-out of such as making the morning coffee, feeding the animals, cooking dinner, building a fire, and unloading the dishwasher.
Surround yourself with music.
Go on photography walks, or at the very least, get outside for several minutes a day.
Attend to the vignettes around your house by keeping everything intentional and meaningful to you.
Spend the first light of the day in meditation, for me - with poets who inspire. Afterward, journal for several pages if possible.
Cook as much as possible. Bake as much as possible.
Adorn your house with fresh flowers.
Light candles to signify changes in tasks. I used to sit to write by lighting a candle. It helped me visually remember that I was working and it was beautiful.
Write letters as much as possible.
Do not be tempted to let chores take over the majority of the day. One task per day will suffice to keep the house generally clean for the week.
Go to brunch with friends as much as possible. Drink pink bubbles as much as possible. Hope that the brunch turns into dinner and drinks as much as possible.
Invite your friends over for dinner and a chat in front of the fire place.
No television during day-light hours and at night, only 1 or 2 shows.
Create one something per day...learn to watercolor, write a poem, bake a pie, take a photograph. Then share, share, share it.

To jump start us back to a slower, more mentally-awake life, Joel and I are having a no-media week. No TV at night. We instead linger over dinner and shop together online and read books on the couch and listen to and talk about music, and as I suspected, go to bed early.

Today, I decided it was high-time to bring out the daffodils. Even IF I had to buy them instead of grow them, even IF they are a bit wilted, even IF I won't be here to enjoy them all day, even IF they are a superfluous expense.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have dinner to finish. It's chicken & apple sausages, baked potatoes, and arugula salad tonight.

I do believe it's going to be a lovely Spring - inside and out,

Dinner tonight was to be the recreation of an amazing salad I had in San Jose while imposing on the hospitality of Allison. Kelly and I spoke of it several times after dinner and the following day, trying to pinpoint the dressing. Tonight's salad was delicious, but not quite right. Interestingly enough, I had both versions of the salad after a yoga class. There is something about watermelon after yoga...

Desert tonight was bathing in these summer beauties. Apparently, I not only have roses; I have BEHEMOTH roses. They smell like pepper and dirt.

It's so good to be home.

Last night, after my lover came home from work and I bombarded him with a beer and a hug, and after we ate tomato soup and cheddar/rosemary biscuits, and after bundling up in heavy coat and donning our hats - we went for a walk to celebrate the most beautiful misty rain tickling the cherry blossoms.

On the subject of these lovely blooms, I swear they came out of nowhere! One day last week, I was riding the bus to work and saw the faintest pink on a far-away tree and I though to myself, "Surely, no! It's too cold!" But as I looked around more and more, I realized they are indeed deciding it is time to begin their reproductive cycle. Audacious buggers.

So we took a lovely walk. We sauntered around in the dusk with two rouge kitties in tow. We pilfered blossoms of cherries, jasmine, and Daphne to inhale deeply (oh Daphne, you make me swoon. Have you ever smelled Daphne?!!). We swigged from the wine bottle Joel hid in his English Great Coat. We walked toward the lake, ducking under corkscrew willows and stepping gingerly over spasmodic daffodils. We admired old architecture and ancient stairs made of stone.