five things equals you're a writer so &%$@! write already
1) I have been riding my bicycle. I rode my bicycle more last week than I have ridden a bicycle all the rest of my entire life put together, I think. All in all, I'm enjoying it, though rest days are helpful because ow. I have also learned some important lessons about hydration. But mostly, I have to confess: I enjoy it. Especially on my old-man bike, to the rear which I intend to mount a wooden box for carrying of things, just as soon as I find the wooden box of my dreams.
1.5) Actually, the wooden box of my dreams is one of the old wooden apple crates from Moose Hill Orchards in Londonderry, NH, for all sorts of reasons but mostly because it's a beloved friend's family farm, or was, and I have such clear and lovely memories of being up there, away from adult supervision, a freedom I used to... stay up all night talking with my friend Jonathan. I fear that no more such boxes exist, or - if they do - they are beyond my reach now. But I will find a substitute, I feel sure.
2) Maybe the wooden box of my dreams is somewhere in central illinois? I'm there a week at the beginning of September, and I agreed to fly into Chicago and drive myself the rest of the way in exchange for having a rental car. I am kind of ridiculously enthusiastic about leisurely pokes through lots of Goodwill/DAV/Salvation Army/junk shop/&c stores in search of the kind of odd junk I so prize: a wooden box, old Pyrex, old quilts, and so on.
3) Also, small restaurants with pie. Homemade pie. Thick slabs of homemade pie. Mmm.
4) I have been trying a new thing for me, where I keep myself away from the internet for chunks of the day. Reading, listening to music while I eat instead of poking at Facebook, making dates for meals and leaving my phone at home, and so on. It's a somewhat intentional process of trying to leave more space in my thought process - I think I've been hitting 'refresh' too many times; always hungry for more news or narrative. Which is sort of hilarious, because I used to be infamous at one job for staring off into space while fiddling with my Tinkertoy windmill, just thinking and not caring about looking busy.
4.5) Come to think of it, where are my old Tinkertoys? I think I amalgamated them with the giant can of old-school ones I got for Mr. Weesauce when I found out they were making them out of plastic now? Anti-microbial plastic? Tinkertoys should definitely be made of wood. The round connector bits get so velvety soft after a while, and you can just zone out and stroke one of them against your face while you think about...things.
5) An email subject line in my spam-catcher email reads "20% off Traditional Dildoes and Classic Butt Plugs!" This vintage craze has now officially jumped the shark, kids.
This entry was originally posted at http://sbearbergman.dreamwidth.org/21716.html.
1.5) Actually, the wooden box of my dreams is one of the old wooden apple crates from Moose Hill Orchards in Londonderry, NH, for all sorts of reasons but mostly because it's a beloved friend's family farm, or was, and I have such clear and lovely memories of being up there, away from adult supervision, a freedom I used to... stay up all night talking with my friend Jonathan. I fear that no more such boxes exist, or - if they do - they are beyond my reach now. But I will find a substitute, I feel sure.
2) Maybe the wooden box of my dreams is somewhere in central illinois? I'm there a week at the beginning of September, and I agreed to fly into Chicago and drive myself the rest of the way in exchange for having a rental car. I am kind of ridiculously enthusiastic about leisurely pokes through lots of Goodwill/DAV/Salvation Army/junk shop/&c stores in search of the kind of odd junk I so prize: a wooden box, old Pyrex, old quilts, and so on.
3) Also, small restaurants with pie. Homemade pie. Thick slabs of homemade pie. Mmm.
4) I have been trying a new thing for me, where I keep myself away from the internet for chunks of the day. Reading, listening to music while I eat instead of poking at Facebook, making dates for meals and leaving my phone at home, and so on. It's a somewhat intentional process of trying to leave more space in my thought process - I think I've been hitting 'refresh' too many times; always hungry for more news or narrative. Which is sort of hilarious, because I used to be infamous at one job for staring off into space while fiddling with my Tinkertoy windmill, just thinking and not caring about looking busy.
4.5) Come to think of it, where are my old Tinkertoys? I think I amalgamated them with the giant can of old-school ones I got for Mr. Weesauce when I found out they were making them out of plastic now? Anti-microbial plastic? Tinkertoys should definitely be made of wood. The round connector bits get so velvety soft after a while, and you can just zone out and stroke one of them against your face while you think about...things.
5) An email subject line in my spam-catcher email reads "20% off Traditional Dildoes and Classic Butt Plugs!" This vintage craze has now officially jumped the shark, kids.
This entry was originally posted at http://sbearbergman.dreamwidth.org/21716.html.