honesty and wisdom

My Iron Owl, stolen from my sister and given a place of honor on my mantle.  This owl represents childhood conflicts with my sister, honesty and a good work ethic I learned from my father, and the wisdom of hoarding, saving, and restrain from indulgence I learned from my mother.  

Ok so the conflicts with my sister started early and did not end until I moved away as an early adult.  I didnt think I would ever be friends with her, let alone friendly.  Now much older, I moved back to my hometown and surprisingly live right across the street.  She always had this owl (probably bought at a flea market by my dad sometime in the 70's).  I coveted this owl, I wanted this owl, so I took this owl when I moved out of my parents house.  It keeps me grounded, like iron from the sky, fallen and ground deep into the earth.  It makes me strive for honesty especially when white lies call to me trying to convince me of an easy path.  It makes me remember the teachings of my mother.  No matter how much you "want" something, you have to work for it.  You also have to go through the never ending "pros" and "cons" list to make sure it is not a want but a need.  Lastly it makes me remember my compulsion that my dad called work ethic.  Now my goal is to try and keep work and home seperated...... Well as much as it possibly can be.

What I really wish is that my owl had the magic power to endlessly fill it's hollow belly with $.  Wouldnt that be Awesome..... everytime you open the lid there is $$$, you close the lid and automatically it regenerates.  Hmmmmm.....what a wonderous thought!  To feel comfortable.  Not rich, wealthy, pretentious, or pompous.....  Just comfortable.  It means never having to worry about the bills every month, they are just taken care of.  Owning a home without a mortgage.  Having the car paid off and student loans to never exsist.  Going to the store and not feeling bad for buying a $3 shirt or buying the namebrand cereal instead of offbrand or nobrand because it is a want.  And most of all, the $$ you work so hard at earning after the government, insurance, etc take their cut, just imagine if it was yours to do with what you want.  And for any reason you don't have enough, you just go to the magical iron owl for its gift of comfortable goodness.

The cure for the winter time blues is.....

that's right....."Buffy". The all American- vampire fighting- just wants to be a "normal" girl- super fighting- super strength- Superhero. Not that I would want to have to fight evil all the time but wouldn't it be cool to be Buffy for a day. It would be Awesome to have to strength and power, needless to say the skinny girly body that can wear whatever she wants.

Buffy has now entered the realm of favorites that I can watch over and over. Not many make this list. Buffy ranks up there with: "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof", "Hot Fuzz" and "Shawn of the Dead", " V for Vendetta", and disaster movies like "Inferno" "Day After Tomorrow" "10.0" and it's sequal "10.5".

My favorite "good" character is either Anya or Giles and of course favorite "bad" character just has to be Spike.  Of course these terms change and are transparent throughout the series.  It's something for a show that came from a B rated movie to have made it 7 seasons.  It surprised me.  In reality, I was the person who made fun of the people who were so devoted to the show when it was in prime time.  That is until I watched a few episodes from  middle seasons.  Deep down I did not want to admit that I really did like them and wanted more more more.  So in secret I would get up early or tape reruns of the show to view when no one was around.  When I finally came out of the "Buffy closet", I got others hooked.  So this Christmas, since it was so on sale, I picked out the first 4 seasons for a present from my sister to me.  The remaining 3 we bought shortly after, meaning I had the entire series for viewing anytime.  Since, I have hooked my bestest friend Rebekah and my husband Troy into watching them with me.  All vacation we have watched, (except Rebekah who is getting them soon), stayed up too late, ending the night with Troy saying "another"...........

No wonder my sleep pattern is so off.  Not to mention the weird, I really don't want to wake up because its like a movie, dreams.

perfection

is a cup of coffee.  One with a little milk, not creamer or powder, no sugar, strong but not burnt.

mmmmmmm.... one of the only things that makes me want to get out of my warm warm bed in my cold cold mountain house.... well that and having to pee really bad.  

My ode to coffee, goddess elixer, with taste so wonderful, I could almost kiss her.

The caffeine isnt bad either.  

My daily allotment..  well I really dont measure it I just drink when I can until around 12 or so (earlier in summer when hot and later in bitter cold winter), I then switch to water or something, then finish off the day with my ginger, licorice, ginseng, hot tea concoction.    mmmmmmm...... coffeeeee!

experiment

Ok, this may sound gross but I just had to see how far I could take it.  I wrote earlier about my obsession with apples.  Since, I moved back to the mountains almost 4 years ago, I have compulsively bought apples every harvest.  Like other foods gathered at the perfect times of the year, harvest, is my favorite.  It happens at various times and depends upon the food you want.  I like eating seasonally.  I feel connected, strong, and empowered.  So, back to the image.  The first year I moved back, I decided to start various traditions for me and my son Gabriel.  He was only 4 and had only known the metropolitan life of the traffic, the never ending supply of Walmarts and Targets, and busy busy work driven parents.  So I thought that a trip to the apple orchard, in the fall, was in order.  We traveled the Parkway to view the changing of the leaves, toured the Apple Orchard, talked to the Entomologist in charge of tagging the Monarch Butterflies, watched as a chrysalis hatched, and enchanted ourselves by watching, mesmerized, the indoor/outdoor honeybee hive.  The day ended with the purchase of many bags of apples. These were promptly put into bowls for eating and into the refridgerator for storing.  We have two fridges, one that came with our house (Gabriel's) and one that we owned from G'boro (Mommy's). The apples were stored in Gabriel's boy fridge because it had more room for long time occupance and the bottom drawers had no plan of use.  So I ate and ate and  cooked and ate until I could not eat another apple, let alone see one, so I forgot about the last remaining in the fridge.  You know busy bees "outa sight, outa mind. 

Time passed and summer came and I still had the apples.  I used my mommy "really there but invisible, looking over" vision.  This vision comes in most handy when boys do stupid things and mommy's just can't deal with it, so they choose not to for the moment, like ancient grilled cheeses stuffed under bed or the never ending mousey in cupboards hardly ever used.  If you don't "see" them they aren't there.  I took this approach with the apples.  Over time I became curious as to how they deteriorated.  Amazingly they did not mush or turn black like other bad foods left in produce drawer, they dehydrated.  My experiment is still ongoing, even though everyone pushes for me to "do something with them".  I just have to see where they will end up.  Hmmmm....3 years and running.  My apples have lasted more than some jobs, relationships, some marriages. So I put them in the category of empowered for this reason.  Hopefully when it comes time when I decide to remove them, they will be all dehydrated, hard, and pruney like those silly grandma and grandpa apple dolls bought from roadside stands from my childhood.  

I just wonder what my next experiment will be.

An apple a day......

keeps me happy, content, and hopefully healthy.  Apples are one of those seasonal items (mention in earlier post) that I have a compulsion with buying.  My favorite time of the year is Fall Harvest.  Here it is later that other areas, falling usually around late September lasting until early November, the first hard freeze.  I can remember picking early apples in June with my grandmother and mother.  Early  apples are as named earlier in the year, sometimes called "antiques".  These are my favorites because they are excellent for cooking.  You cut the apples, which are tart sweet sour, wash them in either salt water or water with lemon juice, add butter to pan, cover with apples and a little sugar or brown sugar.  You cook them on low heat only needing to stir once or twice.  When finished eat at breakfast or dessert after dinner with hot bread or homemade biscuits.  My mouth waters just thinking about them.  My other grandmother (the one with garden skirts) would actually make my sister, not me, apple dumplings for a special treat.  My sister still mocks me with this, stating how she loved her more than me.  ha ha ha.

So my apple compulsion has lasted this year through the winter.  Starting with apples given to me by my uncle that were about to go bad.  During my extra long winter break of stress, depression, and cleaning, I made myself feel better by cooking these apples (along with a loaf of fresh bread).  I felt better instantly and feeding into my addictive personality, "anything that makes me feel good" I must do over and over.  So far I have been through dozens of apples using up all of my stored apples from orchard and resorting to buying apples in the store (pictured above).  But I think if I have to have an addiction to something, this one isnt so bad.  I get extra fiber, vitamins, and most importantly peace of mind. 

Seasons

I am a very seasonal person.  Seasons effect my mood, what I eat, what I drink, and how I sleep.  I don't know if it is because of training from childhood, associations with particular situations, or just the molecular make up of my being.  

In the summer, I like vegetables and fruits, I stay up late and wake up with the sunrise, and I like heral tea, water, and  light color beer.  In the winter, I am the total opposite.  All I want to do is sleep, I like meat and bread (lots of bread), dark beer, and lots of coffee.  In other words, I hibernate.

So last week, I realized I was very depressed.  I did not want to do anything but watch T.V., sleep, drink coffee, and eat bread.  Normally I ease into seasonal routines and remain productive all year long.  I chalked it  up to a horrible year, full of stress and endless paperwork and a not horrible but not great Christmas vacation.   After the Christmas hoo-rah-rahs I decided to get some rest, but felt bad for not doing anything.  After a few days of moping, I woke early with a mission to fix my bad attitude.  I promptly showered, dressed, put on my "Awesome Apron"(picture above in a brilliance of green and purple flowers, with extra deep pockets, and long ties in the back), and cleaned.  Somehow cleaning, for me, clears my mind and washes away bad feelings in order to move on.  While happily cleaning and organizing, I came to the conclusion, the root of my problems were due to the weather.  Instead of snowy cold it had been more like late spring weather, uncommon for this time of year.  While pondering this, thinking of more positive productive thoughts, my mind wondered to my associations with my apron.  Funny, I know, but my apron is very special.  It belonged to my grandmother, hand designed and sewn from extra material out of need and necessity.  She called it her "gardening skirt".  It was worn for gathering ripe vegetables, to hold essentials tools, and most of all to protect "good" clothes from the dirt and sweat from working outdoors.  She, like me, had an obsession with productivity, "Idle hands make an idle mind".  So when I wear this magical garment, I feel more productive, needed, important.  

I really don't know how long this train of thought lasted, but when I gazed back into reality something caught my eye.  I noticed the happy dogs were now whining and for some reason I could not see well outside.  That morning, I awoke to 55 degree weather but for some reason in my moment of clarity I saw that it was snowing.  Not just a few flakes, but a steady "peppering", so hard that it looked like a foggy haze.  I ran in to look at the temperature, thinking that I must be hallucinating, but it had dropped 28 degrees in only 2 hours.  

My conclusion:  My apron is magic.  I needed clarity, order, and seasons to act like seasons.  In my act of reaching this clarity it must have generated the forces needed to awaken my grandmothers apron, causing chaos to become normality.   Awesome!

Order and Logic

All of my objects have a place and a space in my life.  Some I just find comfort in possessing while others, I give them a home.  Some have deeper mean and importance and are placed on a pedestal revered and protected. 

To find some sort of logic and order in my obsession, I categorize and display according to function, practicality, subject, size, and sacredness.  It seems disorderly to the naked eye, but in truth they are with others of the same kind.  Almost like some chaotic Dewey Decimal system that I alone hold the key code.  

You see, all objects have friends.  They might not look the same or be part of the same crowd, share the same shape, color, or form.  But they are friends none the less.  And as with all friends, they should be near each other.

Within this picture, I have my sacred "Day of the Dead" figure of my own persona that Rebekah brought back for me from Texas.  She is dressed in pink (a wonderful color that I hardly ever wear in life) and once held a cigarette that has since broken off due to the multiple moves over the years.  Surrounding her is a plethora of miniature and normal size tea cups.  These are beautiful and I admire those able to drink comfortably out of one of these, but unfortunately I require a large enormous container for yummy beverages.  On the second shelf is the famous "fertility doll", which was created and given to me by my wonderful Rebekah and if you are wondering, it actually worked, ask my 7 year old Gabriel.  With the fertility doll sits "money kitties",lucky dice, books, and miscellaneous containers of collected goodies including dried lavender and "sea glass" from the old home place, Oak Island.

A Beginning

How many objects do you have? Have you ever counted them?  Wondered why you have them, bought them, found them, kept them?  What purpose do they serve in your life?  Do they have a purpose? Hold a memory or association to another time, another life? 

 

Since the beginning of human history, we have possessed objects.  Some of these are mere possessions to signify one's place in a community while others personify an important event.  But some seem to embody specific energies that provide the user with special qualities.  Though not always in the same shape or form or even used for the same purpose.  Writers and Storytellers have used these objects as central characters to teach each generation of their importance.  From the glass slipper to the poison apple, they have been carried by folktales and mythology to fairytales and urban lore.  These have been called Empowered, Enchanted, Possessed, Lucky, auspicious or categorized as magical, religious, occultish, or artifacts.

I am a collector.  Collecting is instinctive.  Sometimes it is a compulsion to find the perfect "thing" while other times there is no rhyme or reason, just a "happy find" of circumstance.  It is an obsession, from abandoned objects on the ground, forgotten to utilitarian tools that are used but never satisfy.  I find myself always searching, taking, plucking like the wishbones from Thanksgiving Turkeys past and those always bought but never completely eaten Rostissiere Chickens.  Sometimes I find myself questioning, why I have them or why I have kept them.  Why are they so important.

My quest is to catalog and share my experiences with these objects.  My goal is to write daily and explore the memories, associations, and stories that surround them.  Truthfully, I am not disciplined enough to keep up with a blog.  I have tried *note personal blog* and failed.  I have overcome my anxiety about sketchbooks, so I feel I can accomplish this task.  I just have to remind myself that this is just the beginning and all I have to do is try.  Please feel free to share, comment, question, or just leave a post.

Thanks, Melissa