The bread machine works. It actually works! I made a delightfully sweet whole wheat loaf today and couldn't have been more pleased. There is a domesticity settling in to my bones now that the crackling cold wails outside (wanting to sap moisture from my skin and brittle my hair into straw.) My only comforts being my children's laughter, my family & my music. It plays on, warming the very air with each note. I found this photograph of our old office space, it reminded me of a dream-a watercolour awash with it's own notes of green and hazy happinesses. The swirly 85 year old glass still intact and hosting a paper solar system, but minus Pluto sadly. The kids found out about dear old Pluto and so therefore have left it out of every collage, drawing and paper scale model. But let's not forget that star. After all, it is still a star right?
Melancholies seep into my bones too, future ones. I'm already reminiscent of today and tomorrow, days which are filled with joy & an ease that is expected when ones children are so very young. The world's problems have yet to weigh that heavily on their shoulders. I laugh at work when talking with my friend about retirement. We both smile big whenever we think of it. We expect to retire soon and why not? I'm tired of the old model of waiting until you are 65. I will retire and then become enveloped in the joys of my family and my hobbies and my life. I'll travel with them. I'll travel without them, pop a postcard into the mail for them. We'll paint, hike and journal. Bake more breads. We'll do these things because we are young enough to enjoy them without the aches and pains of being past our prime. Hey, it is only a dream right now. But tell me, wherefore would we be if we didn't plan the manifestations of tomorrow? Toiling out our days as per our forefather's notions? Still sadly and unnecessarily believing that money doesn't grow on trees? Well it does. In plenty. Take your bucket to the tree and go fill it, you'll see.
Then climb that ladder to the stars, the ones that sparkle and shine with the promises and seeds planted of your tomorrows.
xoxo
Glad to know you like the bread machine. Ours works great, too!
As to early retirement...we did, and we haven't looked back...no magic age!!
Posted by: Sioux | December 28, 2010 at 01:04 AM
now that is music to my ears Sioux. xo
i'll follow your lead ;)
Santa brought the bread machine, so happy it actually works, and well too.
Posted by: Gillian daSilva | December 28, 2010 at 01:14 AM
the future melancholies . . . these i know well, from a different perspective. in my 50s, with no possible retirement ever, there are days the overwhelming-ness just makes me want to stay in bed, pillow over my head. lol! i am looking for that tree you describe. that will be me you see wandering around with a bucket and a ladder. :)
Posted by: Debi | December 28, 2010 at 07:38 AM
yes well, the feasibility of my plan has yet to be hatched :)
but one can dream, yes??
i think talking about it makes us smile. kind of the same logic that makes one smile thinking about the one ticket that it takes to win the lottery. someone has to have that ticket.
why not us?
if i find a money tree Debi, i'll make sure to call you immediately. i believe in sharing.
xo
Posted by: gillian | December 28, 2010 at 10:21 AM
Lovely writing, dearest Gill. So much going on at the moment; will catch up soon! xoxox
Posted by: Tara Bradford | December 29, 2010 at 01:29 PM