began before breakfast again
with the dishwasher running in the background, which means I did not do my customary reading … third day in a row
I love sounds: mainly music, but trickling water (not from a pipe or the roof! =), steamer, essence oil container, whistles (which I cannot produce), the rustling of nature, even the wish-wash of the washing machine or the whirling of the drier. Then, after the revolutions stop: the sound of silence. It is almost a marvel, one that causes wonder, like plain hot water. Solitude, stillness, silence, at the proper time, are lovely. So I read after breakfast (homemade pancakes with homemade syrup — a story for another day, maybe when we do it again this spring), then went back to adding my scribblings to the manuscript. Piling it on.
Took a stretch break and began the other at-arms-length-I’ve-been-avoiding task of weeding through the typed scribblings to form a cohesive body of work, A to B kind of thing, but instead wrote longhand and interspaced the new scribblings with others. Hours later, upon returning from the vagaries of home life, a certain peace rained around me (tinkling almost, like water on metal — another favorite thing of mine), and I at last rearranged and made a bit of sense of the words. I did almost all I wanted to do.
va·ga·ry | ˈva-gə-rē = an erratic, unpredictable, or extravagant manifestation, action, or notion. Exactly not what I meant, therefore I did not know the meaning of the word! Perhaps because vagancia means laziness in Spanish, I have always thought (obviously not known, as I never inquired until today) that it means something akin to HUMDRUM.
hum·drum | \ ˈhəm-,drəm = monotonous, dull, lacking variety. Not exactly what I had in mind either. Hmm. So-so is what I meant, I guess, but it is not a noun! So, mundane — for which HUMDRUM is a synonym. Ha! What a circle. Common, ordinary, routine. Sigh. I’m done.