Sometimes I read an interview with some famous or maybe just half famous person and I think to myself -- I'd like to be just a little more like that in life. Irreverent. Truthful about my inadequacies. Open about my passions. Free in my search for poetry in life.
This is exactly how I felt in reading the interview with British actress (and incredible star of the crime drama that ripped my heart -- Unforgotten), Nicola Walker. I still cannot forgive the story writers for the last episode of the series -- it demolished my inner peace for weeks on end! But the actress herself (whom I imagine to have the personality of Cassie Stuart, the character she played in Unforgotten, if only because I like Cassie so much!) seems both thoughtful and unabashedly honest. The kind of person you strive to be yourself in the finer moments when you're not blundering along tripping up at every turn.
I thought about quirky personalities and people who find pleasure in being funny or at least in being around others who are funny as I walked at sunrise to feed the animals.
And I thought about it some more over breakfast with Ed (who is even less funny than I am, but who also leans toward laughter as opposed to grumbling his way through life).
I always think that it's not too late to add some spice into your modus operandi. You do not have to be boring (unless being boring brings you pleasure -- a good enough reason to stick with what's there!), nor predictable. So long as you can formulate a sentence in your head, you have the power to flip your day, your train of thought, your conversational habits. Now that winter's nearly here, what better time to give some attention to what goes on inside your soul!
And now it's time to put aside idle musing and get down to work: several dozen daffodils need to go in. Now!
And when I finish planting, guess what I do! (Hint -- I've got visions of spring on my mind...)
I go inside and use my special discount code and buy five dozen more bulbs. They're on sale! Of course they are -- we are in the very last days of the fall planting season. It's the same old story -- when I walk through the flower fields, I am reminded of how vast they are. How much potential they have. How exhilarating it is to see the first daffodil tips emerge.
Thus I'm not done with garden work yet. And still, I am satisfied. I am almost done. My work for this year is (nearly) complete.
In the afternoon, the kids are here once more.
(with school book fair acquisitions)
Since this is Friday, the day is a little crazy with their schedules: violin for the boy, ballet for the girl.
We zip through all that has to happen before we set out for the lessons. (Lots of food must be eaten! Fruits, croissants, tomatoes, muffins and yes, even potato chips. They have voracious appetites after school.) Books read, towers built. It's not the sanest way to end the week, but then again, I'm happy that they are engaged in their extras.
It's dark by the time I drive home. This will be the case until March now: drop off by the light of the moon! There's something very serene about driving when the light has just faded. To then enter a warm house, to exhale with your sweetie over dinner, over a show. A proper ending to a full week.
