"It'll be fine," I told myself as I popped two NyQuil late last night. After a full day of sitting in my comfy orange chair, I knew that I'd be ready to conquer the day ahead of me.
- WRONG -
I arrived to work, huffing and puffing from the physical exertion of walking the block it takes to get from the parking garage to the storefront. I unlocked the already-unlocked door, clammy and disoriented. Standing two or three minutes, I realized that this was not, in fact, a good time to be returning to work. I schlepped myself home and here I've been since: on -- no -- IN the couch. I couldn't tell you how many glasses of water and cups of tea I've had by now. And the bathroom breaks are the only thing keeping me from permanently melding into my blanketed nest.
So, I've been relaxing in the best way that I know how... surfing the net and tacking onto inspiration here and there. Here's what has resonated with me today:
1. I don't know what it is about the print on this tote, but it reminds me of my grandma. She has all these cool printed things around the house. It reminds me of my precious, introspective, solitary days as a small person, rooting around the house and looking for hidden treasures. I'd often find myself checking out the dark, narrow space between the refrigerator and wall. I'd find long-given-up-on bouncy balls, fallen magnets, and tin trays. The trays were so cool! This print took me right to those trays.
2. Something about the color of this scarf (and the way that it looks so light) makes me think of a carefree spring day. An adventure with Mike. Windows rolled down, warm air blasting through my wild hair and good music singing through the speakers. Mike is always good for that! So, this one is to bare feet propped on the dash. May those days return soon.
3. This print reminds me of wonderful, hilly, other-worldly, dear, sweet Galena. I've been to Paris and this little hilly town in the northwest corner of Illinois is still my favorite place. Since I can remember, I'd run down the steep hill leading down to the little townhouse settled on a far-flung area of the golf course. In the woods just behind the back door, my grandpa and I used to hunt for long-lost golf balls, reclaiming them in a big white bucket we kept tucked away in the owners' closet. My memory of the smell of that townhouse will always keep it real, even if time takes it away from me.
4. What I might love even more than the picture is the caption the artist offers: "Noticing the delectable weather that had arrived outside, the curious couple buttoned their coats and went for a ride..." It reminds me of the time a few springs ago that Mike and I enjoyed a full day off together. Near dusk, the sky turned an electric green, and the smell of the air threatened rain. For whatever crazy possession that consumed us, we got out on our bicycles and took it all in. It never rained, but the scenery we got felt so private and special. While everyone else ran inside for shelter, mother nature gave us a private show of her best colors, smells, and sounds.
5. I feel like I need to keep something just like this on hand. I don't know what it is about antique things. Sometimes, they have the power to take you somewhere else. It's like they had this secret life, and they bring a little piece of it to whoever the next owner is. Maybe that explains my collection of old Pyrex mixing bowls?
