what's good : simple joys

Because my gods, we need a least a couple of bright spots.

We’ve been trying [increasingly desperately] to get a new house and my mind has been scattered between trying to not care and very much desiring to care¹, and I have an upcoming convention to which we’re flying at 5am in a couple of days then returning from after midnight the morning that we’ll be driving three hours to get keys to our the new house we finally found [but aren’t yet moving into for a month] so I have been packing for back-to-back trips² while also attempting to purge things from my home of nearly 28 years before the movers come and roll their eyes at me. But I needed to pause and put out some good things because [gestures wildly at the state of our nation]…

In movies: We missed this documentary at our favorite local theater a few weeks ago because, ironically, we were working in Seattle [where the film is centered]. Luckily, the theater decided to screen an encore this past weekend. My husband & I had seen the preview for Rainier: A Beer Odyssey during another show and were excited to watch because we both grew up in the Pacific Northwest and vividly recalled the quirky ads. This movie is fascinating whether or not you’re familiar with Rainier beer³ - it’s really more about how the brand grew to reflect the nature of Washington State, and helped to highlight the unconventional qualities of people here. Beyond replaying our favorite commercials, the documentary dug into the details of who was involved in the clever marketing along with all the whys & hows, including delightful appearances by Mickey Rooney. Bottom line, this is a fun diversion from the disasters of Now, and will help those not from around here to understand the reverence we Seattle-area folks have for that big red R on a bland building next to the freeway through downtown.

In self-care: I try to buy from local or small businesses as often as I can but so far I haven’t found a hand soap that gives me quite as luxurious & satisfying a feeling as GingerBurst from Origins. [Please try to ignore that “Savory” is also part of its name]
It is a silly price, to be sure, but if you sign up for their rewards and treat yourself to some pampering now & then, you’ll eventually run into a sale; I was able to get the soap plus hand lotion as a discounted gift set after the holidays.
*Caveat: Your mileage may vary with preschoolers - my almost 4-year old nephew is not a fan of the scent. I recently replaced the generic soap in our bathroom and when we were washing hands last weekend, he wrinkled his nose and asked “What is THAT SMELL?” Me enthusiastically announcing that it was Ginger, like in cookies! did not move him. Maybe he sensed the distasteful “Savory” part.

In gifts: A glorious Twelve Grackles calendar from Burdock & Bramble that I got for Christmas. They’re simple and sweet, maybe a bit bewildered by their surroundings, all year long. Just like us.

Friday thing : bird mobile

Friday thing : glasses perch

For my husband’s birthday, I bought him a weather vane. If you’re like everyone else I told about this gift, you’re wondering why such a thing, and the answer has been “because he told me he wanted one.” Though apparently that was so long ago because my husband had forgotten about it. But, he likes it and he likes a home project - there’s a defunct chicken coop at our new house that needs to be removed, so the rooster will be staked there in memoriam.

A gardening grackle, rooster vane, birthday boy

In poetry: Here is a truly marvelous find - a seemingly joyous reflection by Philip Larkin, the poet who inspired critics to call him “the saddest heart in the post-war supermarket” and comment on his “lowered sights and diminished expectations” and “"…very English, glum accuracy" about emotions, places, and relationships.” Despite those descriptions, as well as accounts of him being rather misogynistic & “casually racist,” I found this poem quietly lovely and wistful. Not to mention that much of the imagery mirrors features of our new place, from the sunset-bathed house-forehead to thrushes singing, laurel surrounding, and possibly astonished brickwork.

Coming by Philip Larkin

On longer evenings,
Light, chill and yellow,
Bathes the serene
Foreheads of houses.
A thrush sings,
Laurel-surrounded
In the deep bare garden,
Its fresh-peeled voice
Astonishing the brickwork.
It will be spring soon,
It will be spring soon —
And I, whose childhood
Is a forgotten boredom,
Feel like a child
Who comes on a scene
Of adult reconciling,
And can understand nothing
But the unusual laughter,
And starts to be happy.

---

1. About everything, frankly

2. While also remembering to take things like toilet paper, cooking utensils, dishes, and towels since movers aren’t scheduled until the end of April

3. At the risk of sounding like I doth protest too much, I honestly have never had an entire beer of any kind (ick), yet I wept throughout these reminiscences about Rainier.