During some A-Z blog posting challenge, I decided to blog an A-Z of knick-knacks.
I failed to complete this challenge, but remnants of my attempt still remain in my drafts folder.
This one is brought to you by the letter M.
I love things in miniature.
Cabinet of miniatures
On the right, a small cabinet of curios. Lower-left: A close-up of the slightly bug-eyed Old English Sheepdog figurine. Top-left: A fashionable woman of the twenties walking her dog in front of a Christmas card.
Do you have a teeny decorative piece?
Daylight savings always creates a fascinating dichotomy. Lovers or haters. Do an indifferent group of people exist?
As my Twitter feed fills with people sharing their opinions on the matter, I can only presume America is transitioning out of the light.
In October, participating states of Australia transitioned in the opposite direction and I LOVE it. During the spring transition I’m like – bring me the light! When it turns back in autumn, it doesn’t make a lot of difference – except for that one ostensible bonus hour on Sunday.
Most people spend the first week of daylight savings speaking of time in twofold.
“What time is it?”
“Three o’clock, but it’s really only…”
In either direction, those most confused are the elderly and pets and possibly (if farmers alter their routines) livestock. My cat is only upset if it delays feeding time, he’s not so concerned if it brings it forward.
How does it affect you?
Love it, or hate it?
Me: You know that incident I had with the spider in my face-washer
Me: It happened again, this time with a baby scorpion!
Husband: You mean it crawled out onto your leg?
Me: Well, no. Since the spider incident, I thoroughly drown the face-washer in the bath before I wash myself. The scorpion was more released into the water and slow motion arm flailed like *flails arms in slow-mo and makes drowning-blurble-noise*
Husband: Scorpions don’t have arms.
Me: You’re spoiling my story.
I wondered what I would write about this evening. I have many posts in drafts but I felt they were more for when I was desperate for ideas, as opposed to now, when I’m just boring and monologuing.
Can monoboring be a word?
*feels the power as I choose not to delete any of that waffling nonsense*
It’s Friday. Hurrah! And on Sunday it is seven weeks to Christmas Eve.
Time to sleep.
Sleep well, my friends.
My drive home from work normally takes me twenty-five minutes. Today, it took me seventy-five.
I tried not to be frustrated by this.
I reminded myself I wasn’t in the accident that lay ahead.
I was forced to stop. To wait. To breathe.
And I watched. I watched as our long line of jammed cars, awkwardly created a path for an ambulance who would tend to strangers.
Or something like it is happening right here, right now.
Which is great, because LIFE!
But also just life.
I’m not complaining only that I’m not expecting much from my posts this month.
Anything is better than it was and for now, as my first post for NaBlo, this’ll have to do.
Go well, my friends.
Be your best.
You got this.
“I don’t understand,” I said, “Nothing has changed, except we now know.”
“Yeah, “Mum said, “It’s like we’ve put on an extra coat.”
We have. It’s cumbersome and lacks warmth. It’s a weight of knowledge
We’ve slipped into this coat as it was handed to us and we can’t take off.
We have many coats.
We all do.
Some make us lighter, some warmer.
Some we grow into. Some we grow out of.
Some are in storage.
Some we didn’t know we had.
The coats we love wear thin.
We all have this coat. The coat of mortality – the knowledge that life is finite.
The longer you live, the more you wear it.
It’s not a coat we like to air.
We put on the fighting coat.
And we have love.
We have now.
This coat fits best.