Thursday, February 25, 2021
Saturday, February 13, 2021
It's cold here. Dangerously cold--if you are caught out in it unprepared. Right now it's -8. With the windchill -24, and it is predicted to get as cold as -30 or -40 this weekend. I just took the garbage out, which is one of my most favorite things to do in this Covid winter. I get to walk on the pathway through my backyard, past the big tree, and down the steps, and across the driveway to the alley where the all the cans are. An unpredicted plus that I did not realize when I bought this house is that the garbage cans never need to be moved. They just sit there on the border of my driveway and the alleyway. No wheeling in and wheeling out. A small good surprise.
I have hit the Covid wall, which is much in the news lately as we all realize that even when vaccinated we can still get sick or transmit this vile illness. I am not yet vaccinated, and my provider's website had not been updated in ages. It's stuck on 75 and older. Maybe I will be 75 by the time they update it.
I am alternately happily busy making handmade paper, mending, making collages, writing, swearing at the TV, and watching my fancy new squirrel-proof bird feeder....when I'm not wondering what the hell my purpose is on this Earth. Just in the last few days I've seen chickadees, juncos, finches, hairy and downy woodpeckers, and the cardinal you see in my very amateur photo. Oh, and I made my first attempt at ice luminaria, pictured at the top of this post.
The wildlife situation is so much fun here on ground level. Every morning the first order of the day is studying the tracks. Rabbits. Squirrels. And I think that is a raccoon print below. I welcome all creatures. They are out there in -40 surviving. When the temperatures began to drop a few days ago, I watched squirrels paw up leaves and carry them in their mouths to insulate their abodes.
A not-so-small bad surprise is that the someone cut off my alimony. I've consulted with an attorney, roamed around here a few nights past my bedtime, spent a whole day in bed, spent another couple of days counting all my pennies. All that has been helpful--but the most satisfying thing has been collaging. It's just that I can't really send this type of card to anyone. So I'm going to put a couple here.
Kick in the Head
Here's a quote about collaging by Terry Tempest Williams:"If the world is torn to pieces, I want to see what story I can find in the fragmentation. I have taken to making collages. I want to see whether a different narrative might arise from pouring over American magazines, tearing them up and putting them back together in a shape that makes sense to me. When everything is coming apart, the art of assemblage feels like a worthy pastime"
Saturday, January 23, 2021
Several months ago, pre-election, when I was on a book making binge, I made this.
It's a flip book in the style of the Exquisite Corpse game.
The pages are divided into thirds. Each whole page depicts a person, and when you flip a section of the page, part of the person can be changed into someone else. Fun and games, and my mind saw a message just in the format. Walk in someone else's shoes. Get inside someone else's head. Feel what's going on in the heart of someone that isn't you. I thought the book needed a few words though so I excerpted several lines of a poem called, "In This Place." Turns out it's a poem by Amanda Gorman. I had no idea, back then, how appropriate that would be.
In other news, I am in this place--my new house in my new study where everything finally has a place and I no longer have to excavate a bin from beneath a bed to find a certain piece of paper.
A long while ago, there was this coincidence. Life is so mysterious and interesting.
Wednesday, January 20, 2021
About 10 days ago I awoke to find Persnickety's leaves turned upside down and feeling as thin as tissue paper. We were all worn thin. So thin. Persnickety is working on a blossom now which seems all wrong for winter in Minnesota, but I'll be glad for it and see where it goes. Joe Biden really wasn't my choice for the Democratic nominee, but yeah, I'll see where it goes because I felt like blossoming when I saw our vice president sworn in this morning.
Pernickety is quite the sensitive thing. The ups and downs of moving and open windows due to Covid and people come to fix this and that in my house have nearly done her in. I've had some ups and downs with the Someone recently, and Persnickety and I have been sisters in distress. I swear to you that while my gut was roiling this morning, I remembered my intestinal upset immediately post marriage break-up when I thought I most certainly had cancer and would be dead in weeks. I had that same terrible feeling, and I thought to myself, well...maybe the someone just responded to my email. He had.
You might note the draft stopper thing on the windowsill in the photo above. It improved the texture of Persnickety's leaves almost immediately, and the very next morning after I put it on the sill, the leaves turned themselves right side up. I'm going to be holding one of those against my heart.
And I'll be studying Amanda Gorman's poem from this morning's festivities. I thought her reading of her truth-telling poem was flawless.
The Hill We Climb
by Amanda Gorman