Myrrh of Ember
Dec. 8th, 2020 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI slept late again, but we made a little progress. I think the Sparrowhawk should get the gold star and the biscuit, because he found the long unscrewing handle thingy and replaced a lightbulb in the ceiling, and then fixed the dryer vent. I had noticed that it was slightly coming apart and there was a tuft of lint sticking out. He vacuumed it and then put it back together with duct tape. He had to move the dryer to do it, which I think should get extra points. I started out to get some paper towels to commence cleaning the bathroom. The paper towels were on the top shelf of the closet, in a plastic tub that rattled when I moved it. So I took it down to see what might be in it, other than paper towels. It turned out to be an assortment of cold remedies, including a large bottle of cough syrup and a large bottle of mouthwash, both of which had fallen over, leaked out, and then dried up, encrusting all other contents. So I cleaned all that up and repackaged things that were still usable. This was an achievement of sorts, though not the one I set out to get!
For as long as I can remember in my childhood, there was a kind of a metal basket thing with candle holders at all four corners that sat in the middle of the dining room table. Well, I guess I should say, ever since we had an actual table. During the earlier parts of my childhood, we had a door with legs screwed onto it that served as a dining room table. Once we had the table, my mother put a table cloth on it, and then the basket thingie. I think it was a wedding present. I'm sure there's a name for it, but I'm not well-versed in terms of art for interior decoration. This device particularly came into its glory during Advent and Christmas. My mother deployed some extra wires around the outside, which didn't look that great, but enabled her to twist greens cut from the back yard around the basket to make an Advent wreath, surrounding the four red candles for the Sundays of Advent. In the center of the basket, she piled fruit, and we thought it was very fancy.
When we took apart my parents' house, I inherited this device. Right now, it's sitting on the coffee table that my sister insisted I take from her apartment when she moved, in our front window. I wound it with ivy, two different kinds of pine, and sage, to make a wreath, and put in the red candles, and piled it with fruit. On dark days, I light the two red candles so far, and two fat Crystal Journey candles, yellow and orange. They glow against the grey skies seen through the window, and their light falls on the good round shapes of apples and oranges embraced by pine branches. Those round shapes and glowing colors of red and yellow speak of the returning circles of the sun and the year, and promise warmth and sweetness enough to last through this season of the dark. It's still adorned by my mother's inartistically twisted wires, and I'll never take them off.
I moved a few steps forward with my story. I made dinner--the Sparrowhawk's current favorite, beef stroganoff with mashed potatoes and green beans, and some leftover salad. Then I cleaned up the kitchen, which took a good while but left everything in apple pie order, as they say, for tomorrow. I wonder why apple pie. What would it look like if it were cherry pie order? Or chocolate cream pie order? That would be a kind of order I could be very much on board with!
For as long as I can remember in my childhood, there was a kind of a metal basket thing with candle holders at all four corners that sat in the middle of the dining room table. Well, I guess I should say, ever since we had an actual table. During the earlier parts of my childhood, we had a door with legs screwed onto it that served as a dining room table. Once we had the table, my mother put a table cloth on it, and then the basket thingie. I think it was a wedding present. I'm sure there's a name for it, but I'm not well-versed in terms of art for interior decoration. This device particularly came into its glory during Advent and Christmas. My mother deployed some extra wires around the outside, which didn't look that great, but enabled her to twist greens cut from the back yard around the basket to make an Advent wreath, surrounding the four red candles for the Sundays of Advent. In the center of the basket, she piled fruit, and we thought it was very fancy.
When we took apart my parents' house, I inherited this device. Right now, it's sitting on the coffee table that my sister insisted I take from her apartment when she moved, in our front window. I wound it with ivy, two different kinds of pine, and sage, to make a wreath, and put in the red candles, and piled it with fruit. On dark days, I light the two red candles so far, and two fat Crystal Journey candles, yellow and orange. They glow against the grey skies seen through the window, and their light falls on the good round shapes of apples and oranges embraced by pine branches. Those round shapes and glowing colors of red and yellow speak of the returning circles of the sun and the year, and promise warmth and sweetness enough to last through this season of the dark. It's still adorned by my mother's inartistically twisted wires, and I'll never take them off.
I moved a few steps forward with my story. I made dinner--the Sparrowhawk's current favorite, beef stroganoff with mashed potatoes and green beans, and some leftover salad. Then I cleaned up the kitchen, which took a good while but left everything in apple pie order, as they say, for tomorrow. I wonder why apple pie. What would it look like if it were cherry pie order? Or chocolate cream pie order? That would be a kind of order I could be very much on board with!
no subject
Date: 2020-12-09 02:19 pm (UTC)