The prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS) is “least-favorite word.”
This prompt didn’t really prompt much, so I put “the one” everyone always mentions in my title (it tops every poll for some reason) and will move on from there.
Moist is for cake. Only. Ever.
I’m feeling a bit silly, a bit awash, a bit nostalgic, a bit of a lot of bits. I’m glad it’s a Saturday and I can gather my bits, which is what I will do once I finish writing, which is, of course, one of my bits.
But not JUST one of my bits – writing is a must-bite bit for me. When I don’t wake in time to sit and put thoughts to paper (pixels), the rest of my day is inevitably wonky, and not in the Elizabeth Warren “policy wonk” way.
Speaking of which, what a strange noun/adjective combo… A “wonk” is “a person who takes an enthusiastic or excessive interest in the specialized details of a particular subject or field, especially political policy” and “wonky” is “unstable, defective, unreliable, or wobbly”.
That doesn’t really make much sense, now does it? Yet another reason I love and hate our language so much. And, because I am an English language “wonk”, when I’m done streaming my consciousness all over the place here, I’ll go origin hunting for the apparent disconnect between “wonk” and “wonky”.
Yes, I own an etymological dictionary.
Anywho – if I don’t word-wonk in the morning, the rest of day goes wonky, yet somehow I don’t become “wonkish”.
So I’m learning the things that I need to do regularly in order to avoid having overly wonky days. Why, oh why, don’t I do them religiously (because you can bet your bottom dollar if I am feeling “off” it’s because I’ve strayed from the things I know will keep me centered and grounded)?
Silly, really. But there it is.
There was a time (a brief time, but a wonderful time nonetheless), when I woke at 5:15 AM without an alarm, fresh and ready for the day. That gave me plenty of time to myself, in a quiet house, to think, read, write, and be ready to take on whatever kind of crazy the world had to throw at me that day.
Now, my alarm goes off at 5:30. And many days I snooze it.
And snooze it.
Then turn it off and wait for the 6:30 alarm to go off.
And lie there until I HAVE to get up at 7:00. I still make sure I write, because, you know… #wonkproud, but let’s be honest, you’ve read some of that writing… it’s not good.
And then what follows… well.
Let’s just say I should be getting up at 5:30, whether I feel like it or not.
Which brings me back to feelings. I’ve got quite a flurry of disparate feelings blowing hither and thither throughout my being right now (#wonkproud).
And I’ve learned I can handle that flurry if I take it slowly, give myself plenty of time to apply the brakes without hitting anyone around me, and turn on the wipers so I can see what’s directly ahead (to stick with the snow metaphor). The snow doesn’t allow me to see FAR ahead, but with prudence, I can still travel, move forward, and reach a destination – eventually.
Let’s stick with the snow thing for a second; I’m liking it.
I can choose to stay home and not travel. Safe, warm, dry (not even a hint of MOISTNESS). A favorite book or movie, my robe and slippers, a blanket, a rich cup of coffee. I look out the window and watch the snow fall. In the northern part of Michigan, where I was raised, 3 to 6 inches of it would accumulate EVERY DAY AND NIGHT from mid-November until mid-March (if we were lucky). Each morning, we had to get up, go out, and shovel the driveway and sidewalks so we could go to work and school. It was generally a light snow and removal was not too difficult a task. BUT, if we let it go a few days, it became a much bigger job. 3 to 6 became 9 to 18, light and fluffy compacted to heavy and dense, requiring a LOT more work than if we had done our daily maintenance. So why not just do the daily maintenance?
But here’s the other thing about northern Michigan. In addition to the daily snow accumulation, the specific area I lived in regularly received MAJOR dumpings of snow. 12, 16, 18, 20+ inches of snow at a time. With wind, drifts of 4 to 6 FEET could (and would) form.
Those events meant WORK no matter what.
Shovels – all of us. Snowblower, plows. Or ain’t nobody going nowhere. In fact, in spite of all the efforts, sometimes we were still snowbound for days. Know what you do then?
Play in it.
(still following the metaphor?)
We’ll get out eventually. We’ll re-snowblow what we snowblowed (snowblew?) yesterday, and we’ll do it again tomorrow, and sooner or later, we’ll get to town. School will reopen. Life will go on.
And some day, maybe months from now, it will be spring.
And we’ll have new things that will require maintenance and upkeep – the deck will need staining, the raft and dock will be put out in the lake, the lawn will need mowing…
But what did we choose to do with the winter?
That may make all the difference.
And listen, no matter what you end up doing with the winter, if you go out in the snow – to move it, to haul groceries through it, to build the coolest sledding hill EVER…
Your clothes WILL be moist when you’re done.
#SoCS comes from the website of Linda G. Hill.
Here are the rules:
1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing (typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.
2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.