The unsayable and the ordinary

Four colorful autumn leaves

I have been trying to write a blog since 6:30 a.m. Two creative writing pieces. Each one started strong, dribbled out in the middle and seemingly died a dark and exhausted death. Kind of like carved-out pumpkins jeering back at the writer saying, “I won’t hold a candle to that.”

Just wanting to create, to say the unsayable, all before lunch on this Friday in mid-October in the days of the 2020 Pandemic.

Instead, here’s some ordinary things.

There’s white stuff on the deck this morning. We’ve seen it before. It’s pretty now, but will it be pretty in January, March or April? Methinks we’ll grow tired of thee, white stuff.

Our deck this morning

Barry and I have been emptying out our two little sheds. Getting rid of junk. Things he–mostly he–almost exclusively he–has kept for 30-40 years. Old Datsun seats. Ten years ago he insisted upon keeping them, you know, to possibly make boat seats one day. When we pulled them down from the shed attic last weekend the mice had chewed and decorated their nests with seat insulation for almost half a century. Forget the boat seats! Off to the transfer station he went with tons and tons of “treasures” like car axles, rusty wheels, old skis and steel thingamajigs. Seventy five dollars later we’re much happier, I swear we are.

We’re a wee bit challenged now because we discovered the back shed’s floor and roof and support boards have rotted and need immediate repair. Too bad we didn’t discover this in the spring or summer before temperatures fell into the 40’s for daily highs and snow’s threatening to settle in by November.

Every autumn he mows the autumn leaves off the ground before snow settles. Two, three, four times he drives the lawn tractor around the grounds mowing leaves into little pieces and blowing them off the grass. Otherwise the autumn leaves clump into unattractive piles after snow and they’re hard to handle in the spring.

When leaves blanket the earth

I want to do something today. Anything. Do not want to sit in our quiet little house looking at white stuff and falling leaves and keep trying to say the unsayable.

But nothing comes to mind. A drive into town for pumpkin creamer and possible adventures? But, Mom, it’s too cold to go outside even for that! (Besides, I admit, pumpkin creamer lost its appeal a couple of weeks ago.)

This is the time of year it’s hardest to transition to walking outside in the cold. Brrrr. But I’ve supposedly learned–time and time again–that it’s the mind that thinks the cold is Too Challenging. Once you open the door and walk outside–quite often it’s enjoyable. Just sayin’. In case any of your minds are trying to convince you it’s Too Cold out there.

Leaves on the 1949 Studebaker pickup truck

Just wanting to say thank you for your kindness and friendship all ye regular readers. Loving your big hearts for taking the time to comment, to share of yourselves. Am feeling such appreciation for this blog space these days–to express what’s happening, to write creatively, to connect with folks during these days of relative isolation.

May you all be blessed with some joy, some inner or outer rays of sunshine, some colorful vistas on this mid-October day. May you creatively say something unsayable–something uniquely you–while you deliciously celebrate the ordinary. Maybe that’s enough for today?