Perhaps it was the hiking in fresh air yesterday, but today’s the day! I’m sorting the bookshelves in the bedroom.
I so like the trendy style of sorting books by color (as they are at the backroom bar/library at Petworth Citizen) and that’s fine for browsing, but not for retrieving. At home I make my own categories:
‘read and liked it’
‘read it but can’t remember — might try again’
‘meant to read’
‘should have read’
and then the purely esthetic traits — beautiful spine and ‘just the right size for this shelf.’
William’s helping, like this.
Alas, there are more shelves on the first floor and in the basement.
Posted in books, could be worse, downsizing, good for what ails, home, in good news, reduce, William
Tagged books, downsizing, home, home sweet home
These are the white objects in the house the morning after a great party. Now I am sixty years old.
Black is white; white is black – you decide (see Dolezal).
Two murderous escapees are headed for Zihuatenejo North, or somewhere, without a trace, the homeland less secure, from within.
And yesterday, this actually happened: In a local outpost of the House of Capitalism (Charles Schwab) – the speaker praised a “prominent official” for championing raising the Social Security cap from $118K to $250K: one Bernie Sanders, Socialist of Vermont.
photo of Sanders lifted from somewhere
Re: [freecycledc] OFFER: Drywall buckets with handles — Petworth
Taker: Great. Trying to work out when I could stop by. Where are you located?
Me: [My address]. How many do you want?
Taker: 5 and i could grab them tomorrow during the day if that works for you.
Me: That’s perfect. I’ll put 6 or 7 on the porch in case you want more, or just take the ones you want. I’m just curious what you will use them for.
Taker: I’m renovating my house and always have a need for these. Great storage, etc.
Me: Does your partner know you’re doing this? My husband does renovation too, and I’m the one putting them on Freecycle.
Taker: Ha, yes, she barely tolerates it. Seems like you’re well on your way with all that joint compound.
Hiking trail oxymoron. You either see it or you don’t.
Photo by me, Belle Isle State Park, Virginia, 26 December 2014.
7 January 2015 — Catching up on daily poems.
The sun is shining,
I found the studio keys.
I’ll probably live.
Yesterday I stuck the keys in a book and couldn’t go to the studio. I almost cried. Now I feel better.
6 January 2015
I shop for yogurt
Avoiding pectin, corn starch.
It’s not so easy.
Yogurt is supposed to me just milk and the little germs that transform it.
5 January 2015
no numbers, no cigarettes.
He’ll save a bundle.
He thinks quitting smoking and small-stakes gambling will keep a hundred dollars a week warm in his pocket.
Haiku for today:
A new day, new year.
McCormick’s “Perky Yellow”
Gives warm glow in Bath.
We have come up to Berkeley Springs (the historic town of Bath), with, as usual, a long list of alterations, beautifications, and general improvements in mind. I drove up one a day earlier than William, anxious to get to the homemaking here that I don’t do at home. I have paint to be applied, curtains and rods to be hung, shower curtain to be replaced, home to be made.
Early humans probably draped some tissue over gaps in walls without giving it much thought, but I started days ago with a visit to JC Penney, where I burned through an hour of a worker’s time as I struggled with too many choices of fabric to cover windows. Ridiculous. That fiber choice steered to a paint chip selection – Perky Yellow it is, mixed up at Hunter’s Hardware.
I called sister-in-law Erica after prepping, but before dipping a brush, to share with someone the anxiety of committing wet paint to wall. “Oh, like glazing a pot,” she said. Yes, like that.
Two walls are newly yellow with paint and fabric, giving a boost to the artwork acquired a year ago for the then bare, white walls, and the house is transformed. Happy new year.