How this ear worm got into my mind, I do not know, but I keep replaying the song about the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard Of Oz. I'll spare as all a link.
The warm season is upon us if the opening of the patio across the street at Johnny Mack's Home for Inconsiderate Smokers and Drunks is any indication. There was a party tonight. Tinkling glasses and hearty laughter do sound sweet on a warm night, and the revelries seem to have quieted. I can hear them washing silverware though.
Still in the trenches of organization and Spring cleaning. I think I think I think I see some light drifting in.
And although these digging and organization tasks (both the house and my head) make me anxious and maybe "little d" depressed, I'd say half of me is feeling reasonably well. While perusing jobs today, I could actually think of ways in which different things might suit me. I might be stumbling toward a new and different self-image and way of describing myself and my experience.
As I was walking from the subway station to see K, I found a perfectly fine sky blue cashmere scarf in the trash. Yes, it needs cleaning, but other than that, this is a beauty. I began to understand myself as a finder, although I think I need a more elegant way to say it. I am always looking for something: an object, a person, an idea, a joy, a juxtaposition, a new way of looking at things, and, of course, answers. Does that make me a discoverer, an explorer?
Miep is trying to atone for another vicious and unmotivated attack on Cooder by chasing her tail as she settles into bed. I am not buying. (But it is cute.)