I have allowed my thoughts to have free reign now and then and go where they might. I'm rather surprised where they wind up at times, lol. Much like Hansel and Gretel, who wandered away into the forest, I think sometimes I should leave behind me bread crumbs so I can find my way back out once again.
First I was looking over at BH&G site this evening and one whole section is devoted to gray. I don't like gray...or so I thought. I do like gray as it turns out...Just certain shades of gray. For instance, I think doves are the perfect color of gray. And I do dearly love the idea of a meek Gray and white dress with tiny black buttons a la Jane Eyre. And of course, I love gray and white so much that I painted our sheds gray with white trim (which goes nicely with their red roofs). I happen to love my gray cat (who is referred to as a 'blue' due to the deep hue of gray she is). And I bought a new shower curtain a few weeks ago which is, of course, gray. So, I clear my throat and say I do like gray. I like shades such as the ones used in these rooms:
I love the WARMTH of this particular shade of gray. It's very soothing to me...It also reminds me of the mens' cologne, Grey Flannel which has an awesome aroma and is also packaged in the same colors.
Occasionally I don't let my mind wander. I don't even think. My husband was confounded by this when I mentioned it to him earlier but it's true. I can spend a great deal of time thinking and work myself up into quite a state. Sometimes I find it's very peaceful and calming to simply not think. I learned to do this when I was an insomniac and couldn't sleep for thinking. It's very restful. Of course, one cannot go long periods without thinking because then you're just being stupid, but for ten or fifteen minutes when otherwise unoccupied it is quite nice for a change to empty the mind and just BE.
I met the most delightful woman the other day. She knocked upon my door and introduced herself. I recognized her name from Granny's mention of her several times over the years, though I'd never before met her. She was, it turned out, going about to all the neighbors to ask for a vote for a man who wanted a seat on the local REA board for our region.
She came indoors and 'made herself to home' as the old folks used to say when you stopped by, and chatted and laughed and talked and told me all sorts of things I didn't know. She stayed at least a half hour and never stopped talking. At one point she spoke of Granny.
"Well I certainly knew you looked familiar the moment I saw you and now I know why. Your grandmother was a dear lady. I had no clue she had died until my son told me and then I read it in the local paper and we know how late that was...I hope I live as long as she did!"
That last bit of a statement amused me most of all, because you see, she'd already confessed her own age, 87. Granny was just 94...I told John I wondered if it looks different looking up at 94 as an advanced age when you're just seven years away from that goal than it does to us with more than 40 years before us. Or was her youthfulness (and she didn't act old at all, so I do use that term) the thing that made 94 seem such a lofty goal to be reached? I mused on that set of thoughts for quite a bit.
At visit's end I felt I'd found a new friend and she went away from my home with a handful of the old fashioned creeping phlox I have at my backdoor step. I told her where Katie and I had gathered it from and she knew just where I meant for she is a local, too. And then as she walked off to her car, she said "I sure do thank you for these, though because they are passalongs folks say you're not to say thanks but I always do anyway." "And why are you supposed to not do so?" I asked. "I don't rightly know, everything I ever planted always lived so I figured that saying thank you did no harm and it made me feel good, so I've kept right on saying it!" And that was the end of the visit. She was driving by the way and handled the car very expertly. I suppose she'll be driving when she's 94...
Every now and then when you're reading you come across some little something that makes you certain the author is expressing a long held personal opinion. I found such a statement in my current reading, Blow the Wind Southerly by D. E. Stevenson. I chuckled out loud as I read this sentence, "(she was one of those curious people who dislike chocolate in any form),"...I take it Mrs. Stevenson was of the same mind as I about people who dislike chocolate. "Curious" is as good a term as any!
My daughter is off tonight with her brother. She is learning to make Gyoza (steamed dumplings). V and B came home this week to move her furniture and V is making half the dinner for Samuel and B and Katie tonight. Sam and Katie were providing Bubble Tea (a tapioca based drink) and Pho (a noodle soup) for the rest of the meal. Their portion was to be a take out meal. Cooking lessons will resume tomorrow when Kay shows V and I how to make homemade Ravioli. I think my learning curve in cooking has begun.
I notice that a great many people these days are pursuing cooking as a hobby and trying difficult dishes as well. It reminds me of the lofty ideas I had when I was young. I've seen several blogs where the bloggers are doing monthly challenges. I'm sure the Julie/Julia blogger started the trend.
I must undoubtedly think I need to keep up with other bloggers. I told Katie quite confidently yesterday that I am going to learn to make caramels! I had no idea I'd meant to learn until I heard it come out of my mouth...
Katie and I share a peculiarity. I'd mentioned to Sam about a month ago that there were words I simply love to sound out. He said it's no doubt because I am a wordsmith. Perhaps.
Mellifluent for instance is a nice word, the way it rolls off the tongue. I used to love the word "whimsical" but Katie and HGTV cured me of liking it. You see she used to rant each time they used the word to describe a room, lol. Truly it was overused.
Twilight is a lovely word as is dawn. Serendipity does it for me, too. Lovely, omniscient, elocution...well the lists go on and on.
So why should I be surprised the other night as we sat here, when Katie looked up and said, "There are words I just love..." and we spent the rest of the evening at random moments dropping words without any other conversation.
I am trying an experiment this week. I didn't do a full Big Shop. I'd thought I'd wait until later in the week and pick up a few things, but I'm tossing around all sorts of experimental ideas. Not shopping wasn't really an idea but I'm seriously thinking that I might not for this two weeks. Or I might try a month of shopping at only one store and not a half dozen. There's no doubt that I'd be limited by sales, but cutting down to one store from six would certainly cut down the temptations to pick up impulse items. I'm curious if it would save money. It most assuredly would save time.
One of my first memories of this place is of going across the road and into the peach orchard to pick peaches. I can still remember how very hot it was, how lovely the peaches looked upon the tree with that dewy looking fuzzy skin, how itchy I found that fuzz, and hear Granny telling me not to eat it until it was washed...No danger of that because I do not like to eat a peach with the skin on it! I was reminded of that memory this afternoon as we left home and I looked out across that field which is planted with peach trees once more, for the first time in nearly 46 years. It shall be lovely to look out over the blooms next spring.
And lastly, as I was looking for a photo to head this post, I tried various search phrases which included the word "Wander". I found it odd that nearly every configuration using that word netted me a batch of images that were 95% dark, dreary and frightening. None of those things are what I associate with Wandering. I had in mind more a road winding into the distance...And when I came across Hansel and Gretel I was surprised at how grim those pictures were too until I remembered what a grim tale that story of wandering truly was.
Good night. That is quite enough wandering for one night!
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