Highlight of a Day
Nov. 16th, 2018 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdayExhausted from shoveling the very heavy snow that fell overnight and feeling the precursor to trouble in the lower back due to resulting spinal compression. But had a good dinner which consisted of the latest iteration of my low-sodium chili recipe. Even texted my daughter about it and said, to the effect, that I'd either gotten used to eating stuff that tastes like poo or I'm really close to a decent version of it. The chili, not the poo, lol.
Was almost certain that I was finally gonna have some bread with it--had the machine unboxed and the ingredients lined up on the counter--and then decided I didn't have a safe, convenient place for the machine. So ran out to HD for a cheapo wire rack the I'd been looking at, got it home, unboxed, put together and then decided I'd run out of time. But it fits perfectly beside the stove and, after I make a plywood deck for the top shelf, it should be ready to use tomorrow.
But maybe the highlight of my day was coming across this passage in Steinbeck's Tortilla Flat, which I'm now reading:
[Pilon and the Portagee] walked side by side along the dark beach toward Monterey, where the light hung, necklace above necklace
against the hill. The sand dunes crouched along the back of the beach like tired hounds, resting; and the waves gently practiced
at striking, and hissed a little. The night was cold and aloof, and its warm life was withdrawn, so that it was full of bitter warnings
to man that he is alone in the world, and alone among his fellows; that he has no comfort owing him from anywhere.
I dunno, on one hand I hear the conscious crafting of words and images, almost as if I'd been hanging over the writer's shoulder and got them telepathically as he set them down on paper. And yet, what's not to like about the necklaces of light draping from the hills? Not to mention his insightful, if somewhat darker reflection upon the human condition.
Maybe the willingness to allow such latitude is what comes of having a full belly and a chance to rest, for a few unhurried minutes, from the labors of a day.
So maybe from here, I'll get in the car and roll on down the hill and find some more of those ginger root medallions. To see if they placebo-away the pain that will otherwise be on me, like those resting hounds of his, tomorrow...
LPK
Dreamwidth
11.16.2018
Was almost certain that I was finally gonna have some bread with it--had the machine unboxed and the ingredients lined up on the counter--and then decided I didn't have a safe, convenient place for the machine. So ran out to HD for a cheapo wire rack the I'd been looking at, got it home, unboxed, put together and then decided I'd run out of time. But it fits perfectly beside the stove and, after I make a plywood deck for the top shelf, it should be ready to use tomorrow.
But maybe the highlight of my day was coming across this passage in Steinbeck's Tortilla Flat, which I'm now reading:
[Pilon and the Portagee] walked side by side along the dark beach toward Monterey, where the light hung, necklace above necklace
against the hill. The sand dunes crouched along the back of the beach like tired hounds, resting; and the waves gently practiced
at striking, and hissed a little. The night was cold and aloof, and its warm life was withdrawn, so that it was full of bitter warnings
to man that he is alone in the world, and alone among his fellows; that he has no comfort owing him from anywhere.
I dunno, on one hand I hear the conscious crafting of words and images, almost as if I'd been hanging over the writer's shoulder and got them telepathically as he set them down on paper. And yet, what's not to like about the necklaces of light draping from the hills? Not to mention his insightful, if somewhat darker reflection upon the human condition.
Maybe the willingness to allow such latitude is what comes of having a full belly and a chance to rest, for a few unhurried minutes, from the labors of a day.
So maybe from here, I'll get in the car and roll on down the hill and find some more of those ginger root medallions. To see if they placebo-away the pain that will otherwise be on me, like those resting hounds of his, tomorrow...
LPK
Dreamwidth
11.16.2018
