Back in the city of color after a six-month hiatus

I've decided to resuscitate my blog and without explaining the two-year gap, just plunge in.

Oh, my. Oh, my. My resistance to things kicked up yesterday. Dealing with things, understanding things, finding places for things, deciding about things. Please, no more things.

Even the word annoys me. Things. Or objects. No better. No poetry hidden in either word.

I brought down too many things because I couldn't remember what we have here. Now we have both more, and less, than before. More-- more spatulas (spatulae?). We must have four or five, and I hardly ever use a spatula. Tenants must have bought some. We have a new frying pan because a tenant didn't like the ones we had (which I admit were a bit scruffy, but I was fond of them!) Meanwhile we also have less...those cool clothespins that attached to the bathroom rail, handy for hanging undies: gone. Bathroom floor sponge: gone. One of my favorite bowls: gone. This is what happens when you have other people in your house, I guess.

Upstairs on one of the high windows facing the Serena hill, someone taped a newspaper at the top. And leftover bits of tape are strewn across the whole window. Why did someone need to put newspapers up there when there were curtains already? (not that anyone can see in from there) I haven't tried to get rid of the tape marks because I can't reach that high, but maybe I can with a chair. Several curtains need to be re-attached to a curtain hook. Again, with a chair later. Later too I'll try to get the hot water going. It's still dark, and easier to relight the gas in daylight.

So after a bout of irritation with things, I said, come on, sweetheart, one thing at a time. I had been helped by a blogger I like, an artist/minister, writing about how humility comes from the word humus, meaning earth. These are things from the earth, I told myself (well, all right, some of them are plastic and synthetic, but ultimately those trace back to the earth too, right?) Just take care of them one by one, I said. So I did. Shampoos (three? four?) into the bathroom. Papers and pens into my desk. Condiments, spices onto the kitchen shelf. Some objects to the throw away/ give away pile, which presents another difficulty. It's not that easy giving things away here. Oh for St Vincent's.

The computer. The monitor flashes briefly when I turn it off and back on. "Stay on!" I plead. knowing it won't. The laptop (new to me, but not to the family) starts humming noisily from time to time and this off-and-on rumbling makes me nervous. Why is it doing this?

I admire the older expat women around here who live alone, and are so independent. I am not that independent! I lean on Barry for all kinds of things, especially in the material sense of maintaining things and getting stuff to work.

But meanwhile order is slowly emerging. I am going to watch what I wear over the next few days and see which clothes I like to wear, and get rid of those I don't. And now the church bells are tolling, it's time to put a few more things into their homes. Soon it will get light and I will take a shower and head out to meditation.