I Love (ie. They make Me Happy a little early)

I have received such support in the last few days. I am here to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm still a mush head, but it's not that difficult for me to put together these lists, so here's a new one. And the number one thing I love this week are my readers. I feel like I've known some of you forever. And you don't hesitate to share your support, wisdom, and love.


source

:: When creativity hits (you will hear about this one in a few months - lots of work involved)
:: Colored pencils
:: Finding pieces of paper with my grandparent's handwriting on them


source

:: The way my 3-year-old calls cartoons "toon toons."
:: Feather pillows and feather beds
:: Beignets - I think they are what heaven tastes like

\
source

:: Musty book shops
:: When Will comes to me for magical kisses that "make it all better."
:: The Hermes Kelly Bag (my birthday is the 18th, so anyone who wants to get me one is more than welcome)


Beatrice, 1885, pastel over charcoal, private collection source

:: My grandfather's piano
:: Odilon Redon's pastels
:: St. Denis, mostly because after he was beheaded he picked up his head, walked six miles preaching a sermon the entire time, and then cleaned his head off in a fountain. And he's the patron saint of headaches (I think he more than earned that distinction).


source

:: That fall chill in the air
:: Long naps holding my William
:: Um, did I ever mention that I love cats?


entry

Some Thank Yous

Dorothea of feet on the ground has included me in her parenting interviews. Please stop by her amazing site (another truly authentic one) and check out my erudite answers on raising kids!

***

If you click on my awards button, you'll find that I've received 2 new awards. I'm bad and didn't do my 7 things lists, but I'm honestly getting to the point where I can't think of 7 things about myself that you don't already know!

***



I made another etsy treasury for a picture that I wasn't even going to include. Joy Bird Photography included my Sweet Corn Note Card in her cool Corn on the Cob Treasury. Go check out her shop - she's an amazing photographer! Oh, and now for September, I'm offering 20% off note cards, too, and hopefully, if I'm sane enough, I'll add a few cards that will be appropriate for The Holidays.

Gobbeldygook

So I've been struggling all day trying to come up with something wonderful to write about. A good list. A questionnaire (someday, I'm going to do Proust's, but I don't want to think that hard right now). I started thinking about how we were all princesses of a most high king and got this great picture of a cute girl in a tiara in my head - then nothing.


source

I'm pretty far gone. I don't know how I got this bad, but it's bad. I broke down and called an Intensive Outpatient Program for depression (ie, I probably should be in the lock-up unit, but I really don't want anything to do with that) today, one that I've been in before. I have an evaluation Monday.


source

My brain is so gobbeldygooked. I can't concentrate, I can't have simple conversations with people. I was trying to alphabetize something today and had to give up. Tim has had to do all of the housework because I'm not doing a bit of it. I'm just getting up, getting dressed, and watching inane things on TV like "Flipping Out" (and I gotta tell you, no matter how bad I get, I'll never be as crazy as that guy) and reruns of seasons of America's Top model that I've already seen 3 times. And the wanting to cry over everything goes without saying. I listened to Adele's version of "To Make You Feel My Love" 21 times today. Really.


source

I don't want sympathy; that's not why I'm writing this. I'm writing it more because this terrible disease can come up on you and turn you from a Nobel Laureate Neurochemist into a blathering idiot. Who has served their children chicken nuggets and cereal for all meals for the last 3 days. And is becoming enthralled with "The Kardashians." If you find that you fit this description, maybe you should find your local Intensive Outpatient Program, too.


source

My husband thought I shouldn't write today. He said not writing was okay (I know that) and I looked exhausted (again, always am) and I should just keep watching "Cake Boss." But I wanted you to know what was happening with me, especially if I start writing about positive affirmations and mandalas and start sounding like a hippie psychologist. So that's what's up. May or may not write tomorrow. But don't worry about me disappearing; I'm a bit hooked on this blog thing.


source

***

Oh, and I thought I'd share the lyrics to Bruce Springsteen's "Secret Garden" with you

She'll let you in her house
If you come knockin' late at night
She'll let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
She'll let you deep inside
But there's a secret garden she hides

She'll let you in her car
To go drivin' round
She'll let you into the parts of herself
That'll bring you down
She'll let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden, don't think twice

You've gone a million miles
How far'd you get
To that place where you can't remember
And you can't forget

She'll lead you down a path
There'll be tenderness in the air
She'll let you come just far enough
So you know she's really there
She'll look at you and smile
And her eyes will say
She's got a secret garden
Where everything you want
Where everything you need
Will always stay
A million miles away

Just Like a Woman

I'm going to tell you right now my mom is going to appreciate this post, even though most of it is a song I copied and printed and pasted here. I've been playing with Pandora.com today, and Richie Haven's version of "Just Like a Woman" came on. Y'all know I'm teetering on the edge of super crazy depression and I bawled like a baby when I heard it. (BTW, I'm getting help. I'll probably talk more about that on my other blog on Today's Mama; it is a blog about dealing with depression, after all. Anyhow, I love Richie Havens.

Did you know that this song has been accused of being misogynistic? I gotta tell you, Bob Dylan somehow was in my non-existent, not yet even born head when he wrote this one. The first time I heard this song with mature ears, I understood why legions of females were swooning over him. How many men write a song like this that not only speaks to women, but inhabits their psyches?

source

Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain
Ev'rybody knows
That Baby's got new clothes
But lately I see her ribbons and her bows
Have fallen from her curls
She takes just like a woman, yes she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.


source

Queen Mary, she's my friend
Yes, I believe I'll go see her again
Nobody has to guess
That Baby can't be blessed
Till she finally sees that she's like all the rest
With her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls
She takes just like a woman, yes she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.


source

It's was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that.


source

I just can't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world
Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes you do
You make love just like a woman, yes you do
Then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little girl.


source

We women have secret places. We hide behind strong facades for the benefit of others around us when we really do feel just like little girls. When did all of this growing up and maturity and everything that we are supposed to be so wise about happen? And yes, we ache and break and all of those things The Great Dylan said. You know that Secret Garden that Bruce Springsteen talks about (which is worthy of it's own post)? When I hear this song, I feel like someone received ungranted access to that place. And only God and I have access to that little spot in my soul. And The Great Dylan.

Quote

Not mine, although I wish it was. Found on We Heart It