Spring's in full swing and summer's just around the corner. This bit of digital space has remained static as of late (admittedly it's not my first priority), but perhaps the ensuing relent of academic obligations will offer me both (1) thoughts worth sharing and (2) the time to share them. I suppose it's presumptuous of me to deign whether or not my own thoughts are worth sharing... and yet, we do demand a kind of quality control from any purveyor of information. If my judgments about my own thoughts are not taken to be the universal standard by which they are measured (and I am advocating no such thing), they are at least a useful tool for limiting the flow of information. See, was that digression even necessary? I leave it in as an example.
To continue--I have to say that the prospect of this summer, the idea of it, is tremendously exciting. I would say more exciting than anything in recent memory, but there was that trip last year. I'll be moving into a house (a house!) in a few weeks, with such an abundance of light and warmth as you wouldn't believe. Lots of places to read. My plans for the coming months are similar to the plans I make for every amorphous, as-yet-unfilled space of time that has ever loomed over or shimmered just out of reach of the present; cook more, read more, write more. A programme rarely carried out to completion, though I now have the consolation (?) that cooking will no longer be quite optional. This aspirational troika is matched by three other related but more specific targets: bake more, play more chess, get outside. Is this too much for one person to handle? Will my quest for self-actualization lead inevitably to disappointment? Tune in next month to find out! (Anyone looking for a baking/ chessing/ biking partner, etc, feel at liberty to contact me. I also know of a burgeoning summer book-club that promises to mix exclusivity with Greensboro-hipster aspirations. Scintillating! Inquire for details.)
[I was hungry last night. Really hungry. I started flipping through Paul Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice and I almost gnawed through the pages, I almost threw it or myself across the room. The bread looked so GOOD. No, it didn't just look good. That implies culinary desire, carnal desire, simple appetite. It looked beautiful. That bread looked beautiful. I want to bake, NOW.]
It has begun to rain.
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3 comments:
I am fond of digressions.
I think you can avoid disappointment in your quest for self-actualization. You can read, write, or play chess outside while waiting for bread to bake or something like that. Get 3-5 birds with one stone. Wouldn't you be terribly efficient then?
I feel glad that you did not gnaw on your bread book. Though I'm sure the paper bread was very appealing, I think it might have paled in comparison to real bread.
Speaking of eating paper, someone in my book arts class made paper with pieces of potato chips in it and ate some of it. I just thought I would share that.
Do you know the diddle diddle dumpling nursery rhyme?
Indeed, doing these things while waiting for the bread to bake is one of the main reasons why I'm excited to be moving into this house, with the kitchen right next to a lovely sitting room. Reading while baking has been almost impossible in the two kitchens I've used thus far, due mainly to the relative inacceptability of the spaces near them in terms of light/ noise/ comfort/ cleanliness, etc. I guess I'm picky.
And no, I am not familiar with that rhyme. Dare I ask why?
well, it goes like this:
diddle diddle dumpling, my son john
went to bed with his trousers on
one shoe off and one shoe on
diddle diddle dumpling, my son john.
the part about the one shoe off in your title just reminded me of it. it's one of the few nursery rhymes I know that actually aren't incredibly morbid or depressing.
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