Ugh, apparently it is also earwig-on-the-bathrobe and biggest-centipede-I've-ever-seen-in-the-kitchen-sink season...!
I woke up far too early this morning, and spent a couple hours tossing and tangled in the sheets of my mind before finally falling back to sleep, past the alarm of course, lulled by the sound of gentle thunder and pouring rain...a comfort, to be sure. Naturally I'd left all the now thoroughly-soaked bags of garden trimmings out on the walk, thinking I'd wrangle them back to the alley in the morning...but thank goodness for the rain!
I'm anxious. Not about anything in particular, just a general lack of ease, and peace of mind. I'm restless, and it feels electrical, almost, like I need a ground, I need earthing. For a few dreamy moments this morning, I thought I might step out into the rain...it seems so long since the last time I did, although I suppose it was only a few months ago. What is it about standing in the rain that feels so good?
So I feel compelled, because I've been thinking about it more than I ought, to rewrought the thoughts I posted on metallurgy a few days back. They make no sense, really. Steel is just as heavy as iron if not heavier, and sharpness is irrelevant. It's true that copper and silver may be on the softer side, but gold is just as soft. And I think everyone knows how heavy gold is. So, just scratch all that, or polish it, whichever you prefer.
In a similar vein...if I were actually concerned about stalkers I'd just shut this whole peep show down, or better yet, relocate to a place that can't be mapped by electronic devices. Something came up recently that just got me to wondering, but it's not anything or anyone I am worried about, any more than I'm worried about being struck by lightning. Although, if I were hiking above treeline in the Rockies, that might be a different story...
Anyway. Tasks for today are few but many, house work and yard work and brew work and money work and before that work work, and more importantly this: replace every critical thought with a better one. Negative to positive, isn't that the way it goes?
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Main Entry: dig in
Function: verb
Date: 1827
transitive verb
1: to cover or incorporate by burying [dig in compost]
2: to establish in a dug defensive position [the platoon was well dug in]
intransitive verb
1: to establish a defensive position especially by digging trenches
2 a: to go resolutely to work b: to begin eating
3: to hold stubbornly to a position
4: to scuff the ground for better footing while batting (as in baseball)
— dig in one's heels
: to take or persist in an uncompromising position or attitude despite opposition
Find something...
About Me
Here we find out what we're made of. First, it's what we eat. Second, it's what we love. Third, it's what we do. It's what we hear and touch and see. It's what we build, with our minds and with our hands. It's what we play and sing. It's what we want.
We're working to find a way of living, and living to find a way of working which can sustain us, our souls and bellies, our parents and children, and the land that is all which holds us. We shall be resourceful. We shall make due. We shall overcome. Just kidding. But we might kick ass. And we'll probably have to, in the years ahead. We're here to protect and serve that which is sacred and real, from the dirt in our toenails to the stars in our eyes. We're here for a short time, to see what we can learn.
The most important thing you could ever do is to choose a place and dig in. - Pete Seeger
No comments:
Post a Comment