Deeper not Wider

Some people give their handwritten journals a title on the first page. I don't always remember to do it, but with the most recent notebook, begun August 2, 2014, I happened to. A title may entrench or foresee a theme that will emerge in the months ahead, they suggest. A title may help you keep in mind a life lesson you are working on.

"Deeper not Wider" is on the front page of the notebook I am coming to the end of. It's a life lesson I've been trying to learn for quite a few years already, and still don't feel I've really mastered it.

I need to make better use of what I already know, rather than casting my net out again and again, gathering new knowledge to set on my shelf of abilities and rarely take down.

On the back page I have collaged images of joy and beauty to give me pleasure whenever I see it, reminding me of that which I seek.

Throughout the notebook I have scribbled things I want to remember. Some I intend to try, like this one:

Flaky Pie Crust made from Olive Oil, by Jeff Davis
Stick 2/3 c olive oil in freezer for an hour, until consistency of gelato (more or less), then cut that into your dry ingredients in place of shortening. Then add liquid to bring it all together.

and

"The Foreskin's Lament"

and

Jen Grant, "Compostella" CD, No One's Gonna Love You Like I Do

Stacy May Fowles, Infidelity

The Promise of Energy Psychology, 2005
-David Feinstein, Donna Eden, Gary Craig

grumpy art historian

PREVENT CRAZY
•TREAT CRAZY •HEAL CRAZY
-if I ran the world

Meditation yesterday:
Mom and Grandma Benson came and we all did the Highland Fling and laughed and laughed.

Maan, by Kim Thuy
Notes from a Small Island, by Bill Bryson
Love Enough, by Dionne Brand
They Left Us Everything, by Plum Johnson

"We all have our inconsistencies, prejudices, irrationalities which, although strongly felt at the time, may be transitory. A letter captures the mood of the moment. The transitory becomes immutably fixed, part of the evidence for the prosecution or the defence." - P.D. James autobiography
This is true about diaries and journals as well as letters. She explains it better than I have been able to.

Pray to St. Anthony for the recovery of things lost.

People of the Plains, by Amelia Paget
As for Me and My House
Bird Brains, by Candace Savage

For the liver:
dark green leafy veggies
*spinach
*cabbage
*broccoli
*greens
-"especially good source of B vitamins and minerals liver needs to cleanse its detoxification pathways"

Protects against cataract formation:
-broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, and dark leafy green veggies

"Research suggests that zinc deficiency contributes to the slimming disease 'anorexia' by impairing the sense of taste and smell, and therefore the desire to eat." - Dr. Joshi

http://mannersaresexy.com/

"I know now, too, that the darkness heralds healing: that with each bout I am invited to a deeper place within myself and, paradoxically, to a deeper release. If I give myself over to depression, engage with it rather than resist it, it will take me places I never would have imagined."
-From Between Gods, by Alison Pick

@birddetective (Twitter)

Jenny Lewis, CD Acid Tongue

-an old-fashioned dance called the Irene Skipping Rope


Pics taken last night:


Emil has a little trouble making the transition on Sundays from being here to being back at the group home. He likes it there and likes his job the following week, but that switch from "Mom home" and "Work home" seems to get him worked up. I can tell because he will start talking unnecessarily about things already discussed and decided, to try to delay my leaving when I drop him off. To give him something to look forward to, we pick Everett up and go to the drive-thru for an ice cream treat. I have a small butterscotch-dipped cone and the boys each have a blizzard. When those are gone, Everett carries Emil's shoebag and packsack to the door of the group home. It's very windy; Emil does not have a hunchback.

And with that, my fine-feathered friends, I leave you and get on with the day. I've already taken three trays of potted plants from the porch to the perennial flowerbed and watered them and the ones on the deck and the pansies under the oaks. I've mixed up a batch of bread and the dough is rising now. I've run a sinkful of soapy water and filled it up with last night's supper dishes and wiped the counters and must now make my way through them. But first, just one leisurely walk to the end of the driveway. I've gotten cold, sitting here.