Pondering the ineffable
posted in Alaska, Blogging, Family, Miscellaneous, The Move, Writing the Blog |Last night, while cleaning up bookcases to go into the family room, it occurred to me to wonder–when did the first person decide that smearing smushed up dried honeycombs on wood was a Good Idea?
I mean, really–what on earth prompted someone to do that in the first place?
It’s similar to something else I’ve wondered: Who was the first person who decided that horseradish might be actually good to eat if it were ground up and mixed in with other foodstuffs? What possessed this person? One of my most memorable experiences was when my mom handed me a chunk of what we both thought was celeriac root–carefully cleaned and peeled–and I took a great big honkin’ bite. It wasn’t celeriac. It was horseradish. Let me tell you: horseradish, in its natural state, is not, repeat not, edible. I chewed for about five seconds. At which point, my brain told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was being poisoned. It was ghastly. Surely I’m not alone in that? So what prompted some genius, in the long long ago, to decide that it might be okay if it were used sparingly?
Why is it that I suddenly have nothing I want to say?
I’ve been encountering some good discussions around the blogosphere. They pique my interest. I want to discuss them when I read them. But then, a few hours later, I open up the ol’ bloggin’ software and am confronted with a blank page…at which point my brain goes blank, too.
Part of it is that we’re being very homey right now. The house is slowly, slowly falling into place; more and more boxes are unpacked, curtains are up, bookcases are out and books soon to be placed in them. It’s feeling like our home suddenly. I still feel sad about leaving the old house, but am happy about having more space, and more closets (closets!!! OMG! I could just swoon with the joy!). We have also–somehow–managed to stay on top of the creeping mess here, so things have their places and get put back/away, rather than accreting like a giant midden heap in various spots around the house.
We have light. In fact, so much light that it is making me feel very odd and out-of-focus. Twilight at nine p.m. should mean that the weather is almost hot and the flowers are blooming and the grass is green. But right now, we still have snow in the backyard and ice in the driveway (and in the afternoons, a lovely thin layer of melting ice on top of the slick ice, which resulted in one of our cars slooooowy sliding backwards down the driveway…luckily I noticed this in time to move it back up to a non-icy spot!). We have birds congregating around the bird feeder, but no greenery. We have sunshine all day, but no buds on the trees. My body keeps saying, "Sun! Woot! But…but…dude! Where’s the ’spring’?!"
Then there are the various "just living" things. Taking the dotter off to gymnastics class. Doing teleconferences during the day. Taking the dawg out to do his thing. Planning a vegetable garden. Putting up artwork. Doing the laundry.
Anyway, right now, I open the blog, want to post something pithy and pungent, and find the P&P quotient in my brain has plummeted.
Give me some ideas!
