It’s 8 in the a.m. and I’m watching a kids’ movie about dog sledding.
Must be a Monday in Machias.
Best quote so far, “Boys got the heart of a bear.” Excellent.
It’s nice to be back in this big blue house surrounded by familiar smells, reminders of last summer. I was over here every third day then, whenever the woods got too lonely or my metal washtub baths were no longer cutting it. In remembering that summer it strikes me as funny how much time I spent inside that little cabin. Maybe there was comfort in feeling like I was wrapped tightly in a cedar cocoon. Small space.
I just read an article about tiny houses in the New Yorker. Did you see that one? Fascinating. People living in 100 square foot houses. I think I could survive just fine with somewhere on the order of 500 square feet. I’d be happy to shed some belongings, a cleanse of ownership. I’d be even more delighted to shed some of the Collector’s collections. I’m a minimalist, you know.
But we live in a big house with space enough for collections to breed like cockroaches.
I admit that I have a few collections of my own: dresses. Well I guess that’s the one. I also have a difficult time throwing silly things away, like the rings that come off of milk jugs. Things I swear I’ll do something creative with some day. I mean, wouldn’t milk jug rings make a funky little string of Christmas garland? No, you’re right, it’d just be tacky. Alright then! Glad we settled that. But there’s no way I’m getting rid of my dresses.