First things first. There was thunder here early, early this morning, just before daybreak. Thunder, friends. Spring thunder is my favorite kind of thunder. Less out of context than winter thunder (which is just unnerving), and considerably less threatening and ominous than summer thunder, which always makes me (and the dog) unduly edgy. Spring thunder, you see, is a loud, reverberating promise of growth, and rebirth, and renewal. It’s as though the peepers, and the asparagus stalks, and the forsythia, and the tulips all agreed to dance and undulate and pulsate together in the soil and festively, finally banish winter. I’ll take it. Spring thunder, for the win.
We went to Florida! And saw family! And flamingoes! And banyan trees! And Mickey Mouse! We also, most inconveniently, picked up a stomach bug during the trip, but let’s just not focus on that, agreed? It was great to get away. It was lovely to see my legs and my toes again, as well, after so many months of cover. It was nice to head out without a coat. And then we came back and it snowed this past Saturday and we had to fire up the wood stove again. But, THUNDER!
Here’s what’s got me jazzed right now:
*OWL is killing it with her weekly offerings and musings. If you’re local, Susannah needs to be on your radar and on your kitchen table.
*Keeping this in mind at all times as my springtime mantra.
*I’ve been on a major spring cleaning blitz since returning home from Florida (months of life with a wood stove will do that to a person). Here’s a post I did a ways back for Design Sponge on homemade spring cleaning products. About to give my silver jewelry a much-needed cleaning.
*Glenn bought me this perfume for Valentine’s Day. Earl Grey + Bergamot. It. Is. Everything.
Whatever this week brings, just remember, thunder.
It’s been ages since I last did a round-up, so I figured no time like the present to get back in the saddle. These days it’s all about blooms and my buddy (showing me his “muscles” and his hair that I kept meaning to get cut and that has somehow, of its own accord, now morphed into a pretty amazing rendition of the hairdo Matt Damon deftly sported in Behind The Candelabra, yes? YES!). Those flowers and this face are all I need to get me out of the winter doldrums and back into my groove.
Here’s a smattering of this and that’s that have caught my attention recently:
*If you use social media at all, you should read this post.
*These easy DIY flower print paintings would be a great way to brighten up a rainy spring day.
*Glenn and I are going to our first Blind Pig dinner tomorrow night. Blind Pig is a local underground supper club. Tomorrow night’s event is a tribute to Edna Lewis, pretty much the Grande Dame of southern cooking. We are over the moon excited!
*Not just for your morning cuppa: 15 household uses for coffee grounds.
*Hoping to score some fresh-off-the-tree Meyer lemons when we head to Florida next week. Would love to use them in this Meyer Lemon Ginger Concentrate for homemade sodas.
*Really loving this moon phases necklace I purchased recently from Agate & Elm.
*Discovered N.C.-made Cackalacky beer a month or so ago. I’m not typically a canned beer fan, but this one has me in its clutches. I mean, it has ginger in it, so, as a equal-opportunity-ginger-lover, I pretty much have to like it.
It’s going to be close to 60 degrees here tomorrow. I almost don’t want to write that, as I know that a good deal of the country is still plowing thru winter weather. Hang in there!
Wherever you go this weekend, whatever you do, and whomever you do it with, may it be grand!
Into the woods, behind our home.
My freshman year of college, I took an Existentialism 101 class. I’d read a bit of Camus and Sartre in high school and wanted to explore the topic more in depth. What resulted was a bit of a week-long existential crisis of the soul. When you’re 18, you’re so vulnerable and open to suggestion anyways, and taking a class that challenged and questioned the very nature of existence and meaning itself cut a deep divot thru my skull. I was being confronted with ways of thinking I’d never before encountered, that suggested that we were at the helm of our realities, guiding our own fates and determining and plotting the course of our lives, not puppets being moved to and fro by outside forces.
While I reconciled my own leanings towards the notion of a higher life form having created us with the concept of our emerging from the void without meaning written into any actions, I found solace in a quote I discovered in another course, a required humanities class. Walt Whitman, in Song of Myself, wrote “Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes.” What I ended up with, when I combined what I’d learned at such a tender age, was the idea that identity is fluid. Contradiction is built into the nature of reality.
Around the same time, I also encountered another quote that would stick with me, this one from Heraclitus. “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” Life, and identity, and who you are, or who you might think yourself to be, are constantly in motion. Fixed notions of who we perceive ourselves or others to be are illusions, just like the notion that winter is a time of stillness and quietude. Underneath the surface, if you push back the mulch, there is so, so very much going on.
So what do existentialism and Whitman and Heraclitus have to do with homesteading and my life in the mountains of western North Carolina? A great deal. For as long as I can recall, I have loved winter. Pined for it in summer, thrilled at its arrival when the leaves turned color and cascaded down in late autumn. I’ve told everyone that will listen how much I love cozying up with blankets and mugs of hot tea indoors, tending to the wood stove as I pad about in wool sweaters and fuzzy slippers. What I realized a few weeks ago is that, while true, there’s also a part of me that suffers in winter. I go deep, turn into a bit of a recluse, and hide inside my heart, my mind, and often times, my home.
That’s what I’ve been doing these past few months. Creatively, this has served me well. I find my largest rushes of creativity when the weather is cool and cold. Mentally, though, it’s not the best. I struggle. I feel the winter blues a bit, especially if I don’t spend time outside and get a nice dose of Vitamin D, courtesy of the sun, to elevate my mood. I sequester. It’s always good, until it’s not. Lately, I can feel both the tug of my heart and mind to contradict myself, to say, “You know what? I don’t know that I really do enjoy winter anymore, for now.” The two thoughts are not mutually exclusive-they’re sides of myself at different times. Life is moving, and so am I.
Later today I’m going to collect soil samples in the garden with my friend (and neighbor!) Natalie. We’ll send them off to the local extension office for testing, to see what the nutrient profiles are of all 14 raised beds, and amend the soil accordingly. Tomorrow, it’s going to be in the upper 60’s. Next week, we three Englishes are taking off for a long overdue visit with family in Florida. I need these things to happen just like I needed winter to greet me with open arms back in December.
You never step into the same river because you’re never the same person each time. The river is never composed of exactly the same water. Go ahead, contradict yourself. It’s all you, anyways.