speaking of checking things off a life to do list, i crossed off two more things recently (it was a productive thanksgiving, what can i say?)
*eat a november cake (an amazing sounding recipe from THE SCORPIO RACES, one of my favorite books. fortunately, sister E loves to bake, so she made these for me and all i had to do was keep her company in the kitchen. sweet deal, huh?)
*write a novel (50k words) in 30 days or less. (yup. i finished. 58,620 words to be precise. 50,006 written from 11/1 to 11/24 combined with 8,614 words written the last week of october.) and now i’m going to let it sit for a bit and then i shall revise the heck out of it.
while i’m letting my manuscript sit around and marinate, i will be doing the exact opposite. i’ll be traveling to a country i’ve never been to before. for work.
this is shaping up to be a VERY interesting end to 2012 for me.
the end of the month is looming, which means it’s crunch time. i’m saving my words for my MS, so here, have someone else’s words instead of mine. thank you, grandpa for finding these!
Words – so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. Nathaniel Hawthorne, writer (1804-1864)
Some stories are true that never happened. Elie Wiesel, writer, Nobel laureate (b. 1928)
The finest words in the world are only vain sounds if you cannot understand them. Anatole France, novelist, essayist, Nobel laureate (1844-1924)
human wandering through the zoo / what do your cousins think of you. Don Marquis, humorist and poet (1878-1937)
Our expression and our words never coincide, which is why the animals don’t understand us. Malcolm De Chazal, writer and painter (1902-1981)
When asked them to generate a sentence in which the following three words appear — defence, defeat and detail — the “correct” answer: De horse jumped over defence, first defeat, den detail.
Nature never said to me: Do not be poor. Still less did she say: Be rich. Her cry to me was always: Be independent. Nicolas de Chamfort, writer (1741-1794)
The sense of wishing to be known only for what one really is is like putting on an old, easy, comfortable garment. You are no longer afraid of anybody or anything. You say to yourself, ‘Here I am — just so ugly, dull, poor, beautiful, rich, interesting, amusing, ridiculous — take me or leave me.’ And how absolutely beautiful it is to be doing only what lies within your own capabilities and is part of your own nature. It is like a great burden rolled off a man’s back when he comes to want to appear nothing that he is not, to take out of life only what is truly his own. David Grayson, journalist and author (1870-1946)
In our world of big names, curiously, our true heroes tend to be anonymous. In this life of illusion and quasi-illusion, the person of solid virtues who can be admired for something more substantial than his well-knownness often proves to be the unsung hero: the teacher, the nurse, the mother, the honest cop, the hard worker at lonely, underpaid, unglamorous, unpublicized jobs. Daniel J Boorstin, historian, professor, attorney, and writer (1914-2004)
The storms will come and the winds will rise and the gusts will threaten to pull you from your roots. Let the winds come. Let them rage and know that you will not break in the breeze, you will bend. Bend. Always bend because you are made of more strength than you know, because you are better than the breaking.
speaking of seeing professionals in their natural work habitat, sister E had a chance to see me in my home habitat. she had two days off for her collegiate fall break and parents who were willing to book her a flight, and so, she arrived. she’s been to boston lots of times, but always with a car full of family members.
this time, it was just her and me.
she got to see the (not so glamorous) two room studio i rent, and walk the neighborhood trails i frequent, and buy books from my mecca, and eat the (not so glamorous) meals i cook, and freeze in the apartment with the broken furnace and see what real life landlords are like (slow), and watch the first season of the oh so addictive DOWNTON ABBEY, and face time with sister J and baby and bubba mac, and go to the local college’s football game, and mesh in with the food truck throwdown crowds, and take public transportation, and see, really see how it is to live post-college.
but more importantly, i got to meet the adult version of sister E.
when i left for boston, she was 11 and sometimes my brain gets trapped and forgets she’s not a wee little thing anymore. i’ve heard stories that she gets to class and practice and meals on time, but i’ve never experienced it. i’ve been told she studies and gets good grades and pays for her own gasoline, but i’ve never witnessed it. i’ve been aware that she can pack her own bag and travel, but i’ve never been the final destination.
this time, she was participating in conversations and starting her own and even showing off her new found psych knowledge. she made plans with a friend and hung with him until it was time to meet me after work. she pulled out the credit card at the movies and paid for my ticket (um, thanks mom and dad). we cooked and cleaned and talked and laughed and read and talked some more. like sisters. like friends. like equals.
like the adults we are (or pretend to be).
but, it was good to find out when it came down to it, she still knew how to be silly…
and so i didn’t see it coming, but after this past weekend, i’ve realized spoiled can be used to describe me.
not in the ways detailed above, of course, because the ways in which my parents spoil me include them driving 300+ miles for a visit that lasted less than 48 hours, them picking up the checks at all meals despite my insistence that i could afford (and wanted) to pay for a north end dessert, them walking all over boston as we attempted to change up our usual routine, them explaining math to me, them tasting beer with me despite the fact our taste buds are seemingly unrelated (aka, we like opposite flavors), them patiently waiting (ok, dad was across the street in the bookstore) when i wanted to browse a little bit longer in a store, them taking directions from their directionally challenged daughter and following their own much stronger sense when i lost my way, them bringing me gifts of new dish towels because i needed some fall themed ones, them being flexible with the days’ events, them killing time by visiting my office and pretending to be interested in the technical aspects of my day job, them splitting a chocolate mousse dessert so i could have two cannolis, them sitting in hours of traffic, and them encouraging me always and loving me no matter what i do (or don’t do).
i never expected spoiled to arrive in so many different shaped packages — tiny, intangible, tasty, large, hilarious, family saturated moments, but then again, i do have an awesome set of parents, who are an amazing duo of role models, and two people i’m proud to giggle with and on the other hand take serious advice from.
i also never suspected i’d be so excited about receiving autumn themed dish towels either.
Abigail Mumford 