I saw the elementary art classes’ snow globes at the library.
“Ooh,” I said to my daughter, “I may just have to make a snowglobe collage when we get home.”
Now, looking at the photo I took this afternoon, I wished I had studied it just a little before diving into my own snowglobe. Truthfully, at the art gallery, we had spent more time studying the bees and their hexagons,
And some of the chameleons.
I wish I had pursued art a little more when I was in school. I think no one encouraged me. The kids that were good at art seemed naturally good at art, just like those who were good at writing were good at writing.
Now I just muck around with collages. Here’s my snowglobe:
I put a brave little girl in it. I should have put more flowers or bugs or something floating around.
“I’m not sure I like this,” I said to my daughter. “I don’t know what it means.”
“It means we’re all looking a life through our own little snowglobe,” she said.
“I suppose,” I replied. “But we think we’re being brave when really we aren’t. We’re untouchable. Maybe we’re even totally unaware of the connections that could be possible if we just stepped out.”
This morning, from my tiny room in an AirBnB with questionable internet, I wrote a 700+ word post baring my soul about some of my over-anxiety and overwhelmed-ness.
Then, my daughter messaged me. She was ready to be picked up from her college dorm so we could drop a few more things in the storage unit before we began the long drive home. I quickly read through my stream-of-consciousness blather, added a few tags, and hit “Publish.” The spinny-thing started spinning.
It gave me a minute to read through it all again. Whew! That’s pretty raw! I thought, but I had already hit “Publish.” Too late. But the spinny-thing was still spinning.
I brought my stuff to the car — everything except my computer, that is. I came back in to check on the status of my post. Had it published? Well, the spinny-thing was still spinning.
I stared at it, re-read the post, thought Oof! I don’t know how this person or that person will react to it!
I used the bathroom — I had a long drive ahead of me. I checked the computer. Guess what? Yep, the spinny-thing was still spinning.
Okay, time to reload, I thought. I hit the reload button.
“Changes you made may not be saved,”my computer said.
I decided to take my chances. I hit reload again.
Everything disappeared.
Everything.
I’m pretty sure that sometimes technology errors save us from ourselves.
I drove 9 hours and thought about that more than once. Some things are best kept private.
Life is still overwhelming and I’m still overanxious. I’m definitely overtired.
An “Elfchen” has a set form of 11 words, the lines having 1-2-3-4-1 words, respectively. The first word is the topic and the final word is often a commentary or summary. The two elfchen are supposed to present opposing views.
Seriously, though — is there an opposite to Daffodil?
What happens when you look at a bunch of different prompts for the day? You end up with some dumb jokes and an overcrowded collage.
Doodlewash art prompt: Boots What do you do with someone who can’t learn to tie their shoelaces? Send them to boot camp.
Your Daily Word Prompt: Restore I read about a temple for a giant sea cow. My faith in huge manatee has been restored.
Word of the Day Challenge: Accumulate When women reach a certain age, they start accumulating cats. This is known as many-paws.
I went to work at 6 AM. Sometime in the afternoon, I noticed I had two different shoes on. Same shoe brand, but one is leather and one isn’t. I wore them all day. Still have them on. It’s been that kind of day.
I don’t care who you are, the pressure is on to go to the next task immediately. What happened to the days of hanging out in the hammock all afternoon?
Last night I went with one of my sons and his wife and daughter to a concert by Le Vent du Nord, a French-Canadian folk music group from Quebec. It now ranks among the few times I wished I had stuck with French instead of switching to Latin in high school.
Side note: our French teacher taught us by having us memorize dialogues in French. To date, I have yet to say to ANYBODY, “Regarde cette belle neige com el tombe,” whereas Latin words seem to commonly crop up/creep in. Caveat emptor, cogito ergo sum, and all that.
Such joy on that stage! Oh my goodness! Laughter doesn’t need a language any more than music does.
When one of the band members first pulled out his accordion, I was transported back to Bosnia 2017, when one of men there had started playing his accordion after dinner and soon everyone was singing along. I told my daughter-in-law about that experience and she had had a similar one in Switzerland. I have yet to go to dinner at anyone’s house in the USA, have someone start playing the accordion and people start singing along.
When I saw Linda Hill Stream of Consciousness prompt for this week — “a song from your childhood” — I immediately thought of an album, not a single song. If I had to choose a single song, it would be The Beatles’ “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” which is the first song I distinctly remember hearing and wanting to hear over and over. I was four years old when that came out.
The album from my childhood that I thought of was an album of folk music my father gave me when I was in 5th grade. It was assorted artists and assorted songs. Do I distinctly remember any of the songs? No. Well, I do remember “Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder” but it certainly wasn’t my favorite song on the album. It’s kind of a strange song, if you know it. When they listed the ingredients of the chowder, it went something like, “Ice cream, cold cream, benzene, gasoline, soup beans, string beans, floating all around. Sponge cake, beef steak, mistake, stomach ache, egg puffs, ear muffs, begging to be found…” Clearly I listened to it waaaay too many times. And, like I said, it wasn’t my favorite song.
I think that album was like a packet of assorted wildflower seeds that was sown in my heart and took root. Goodness, I love folk music. It is my absolute favorite.
These days, I listen to Scottish folk music all the time. If you walk into my office, you may hear a little skirl of bagpipes playing softly in the background or some sad homesick song about Scotland.
I loved the Québécois music I heard last night. In fact, let me end my blather with a song from Le Vent du Nord, “Ma Louise.”
Check out the foot-tapping guy in the background. I could have listened to that all night.
All I understood was “Au revoir, ma Louise.” I looked up the translation of all the lyrics. Of course, it’s a sad song with happy music.
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 