i started reading this blog about 4 years ago. i had read a couple of blogs before but nothing really wowed me enough to diligently return. With dooce it was pretty much a case of ‘love at first read’ and after catching up on the archived posts i was hooked.
there are things that i should do every day i’m sure – drink the requisite amounts of water, take a multi-vitamin, take my dog for a walk. while i fail at being consistent about a lot of things, reading dooce every day is a ritual that is as much part of my day as showering when i get up. i have to do it every day otherwise i’m not happy. is that lame? maybe. but throughout these past four years i feel like i’ve been on an incredible journey with this woman and her beautiful family. her writing is raw, tender, funny and sincere.
her post today is, as always, a little bit of everything that i love good writing. poignant, laugh-out-loud funny, honest, real…
i could go on, i know i sound somewhat enamoured. but i can’t help it. my wish list, right after having my very own ‘gocco print’ includes wanting to take heather b. armstrong out for coffee and have her babies.
so recently, everytime i peruse www.etsy.com, i fall in love with another print.
like these two by the lovely sugarloop (and no, i don’t love her JUST because she is from new zealand):
and this one by birds and swings:
the thing that these creations all had in common (besides perhaps bird motifs) is this mysterious ‘gocco’ printmaking device. so i decided as a little treat for myself i would buy one of these contraptions – i then became tremendously excited about all the possibilities. just think, what i could do with my very own gocco! i would be a gocco fiend.
but i cannot figure out where to buy one from. none feature on craigslist, there are only 4 on ebay and they are being bid up a storm…and then i came across a ‘save gocco’ web site…why does gocco need saving?! supposedly due to decreasing sales it is no longer being manufactured in japan. so now the remaining gocco’s are in hot demand.
now i am miserable and folorn.
oh interweb, please come to my rescue and help me get a gocco.
i will be forever indebted.
i’m not a big fan of cliches. but a long time ago i walked right into this one. sat down and made myself comfortable. so it’s time to face it.
i used to say i liked all music, except for country music.
i used to hate my freckles and want to ‘bleach’ them out.
i said i would never live in a land-locked state.
i thought i could not, and would not, wear yellow.
i would gag if i had to eat brussel sprouts.
i didn’t think highly of dolly parton.
i was so certain of these things. so sure that they would never change.
now i work around country music singers/songwriters and respect them and the genre of music.
i no longer fight my freckles.
i live in tennessee which has no coastal action whatsoever.
i just bought a bright yellow top that i will probably wear all summer long.
sometimes i crave brussel sprouts.
the more i learn about dolly parton, the more impressed i am by this woman.
today is monday. monday’s took on a new meaning for me back in my uni days. i had a friend and on a regular basis the two of us (usually on a wednesday or thursday ) would come up with plans for improving ourselves. this would inevitably include drinking more water, eating healthier, exercising more, being ‘cool’. you know, the usual. but we couldn’t begin this ‘new life’ until ‘new life monday’ because you simply don’t start a new thing mid-week. so ‘new life monday’ would come around and our enthusiasm for it would last until about tuesday afternoon.
lists keep me sane.
there is something about writing down all the things you want to accomplish, big or small, that lends itself to making the world you exist in a little bit easier to handle. more manageable. easier to digest.
i used to be afraid of eating eggs.
it all began when we had hens of our own on our 2 acres of land in timaru. i am not a big fan of birds. what with their beady eyes and hard beaks. but my mum, lover of all things from god, thought it would be a nice idea. so we had a little coop and everyday we’d get fresh eggs. one time i was watching mum make a cake and she broke the egg into the batter and out fell a tiny fuzzy almost-chick. i was utterly revolted. and put off eggs for oh, about 10 years. i am still not big on eggs but i think that has more to do with being afraid of the high cholesterol that runs in my family.
anyway. the point is that once i ate an egg yolk too fast and it was stuck in my throat. it hurt and there was nothing i could do but wait out the discomfort. and that is how today feels. uncomfortable and somewhat rushed.
but then there is you, and you, and you.
old friends, new friends, loved ones, strangers, the mail man that comes into my work every day at noon with a big smile and calls me ‘sugar’.
and you make it all okay. you are the band aids, the lemon honey hot water, the sunshine, the long walks, the hugs, that i need to make it through the days when all i want to do is dissipate. evaporate.
and now i’m going to:
stand up and stretch
walk my dog
take a shower
small, bite sized chunks.
artwork by andalib – (hope he doesn’t mind my thievery).
i would have expected that the minutes, hours, days would lurch to a crawl but in fact the moments that make up my waking hours have sped up, even the nights seem too short and all too soon i’m woken by the plaintive sound of my alarm. i’m happy with the tone i’ve chosen – considering my choices were limited to only the most irritating on the planet. i found one that sounds more like it is beseeching me to open my eyes, more of a plea rather than demanding it with all the cacophony of morning with its already-jarring brightness and its glittery ambush of ‘new day, new life’ promise. i have a love/hate relationship with certain tones and noises and voices and whispers. i’m easily irked by the sounds of people eating, chewing, slurping, sipping…but i only notice if we are in a quiet space and i’m not eating myself. it’s not that i expect the activity to be mute, i mean i do appreciate the beauty of a crunchy green apple, i just don’t want a blow-by-blow account of the process. i used to love the ringtone i picked for my cell phone in haifa because it signalled good things, great conversation, details for a night’s plans, laughter, voices from far away, voices i had missed. i have grown to despise various songs only because i chose them as the ‘wake up track’ in our cd alarm clock. i guess i don’t really like being woken up. unless it is spontaneous. perhaps my puppy pressing his wet nose into my forehead, or my baby sister placed in bed next to me when she was only 3 months old – looking at her lengthy lashes and feeling that surge of pride that only a sibling is entitled to. i love the sound of rain pouring down – tennessee rain is incredible, makes up for living in melbourne for 2 years and seeing rain only a handful of times. poor dry australia. i enjoy the sound of the ocean. but really, who doesn’t? i want to meet someone, anyone, that doesn’t love the ocean. i wonder if that person even exists? even in this land-locked state i’m sure every soul has an affinity for these vast bodies of water. that’s why it is lame when singles write that their hobby is to ‘walk along the beach’ because, seriously, that is so unoriginal. if you didn’t like to walk along a beach you would be unique and special, and perhaps somewhat sad. i do know people who don’t like sand though – so how do i reconcile that? if you don’t care for sand you may not care for ocean either. it’s a quandary.
today it seems somewhat callous to breathe
with so much pain filling up weary lungs
what use is there in a beating heart
never before so very
broken in two
today the made-for-tv-movie that i swore i’d never live
has come to life
and cheap sets
today ambushes me with all its loudness
and the world spins on its merry axis
irreverent to loss
and my nails clawing at its dirt
today i hunger for integrity
search for dignity
rage at existence
today i don’t want to
get things in order
pick up the pieces
perhaps not tomorrow either
i do not like overhead light. except from the sun. or a skylight. if it is artificial and it is beaming down from the ceiling it is an enemy invader to my eyes. that is why i love lamps in all shapes and sizes. in our new apartment there is very little overhead light action which gives us a good reason to splurge on some friendly lamps.
table lamps by adesso