VENT ing in-VENT-ion ad-VENT-ure
No news to anyone, but in these first two weeks of 201l, the breaking news has been overwhelmingly… depressing. (Heart) breaking news. Excruciating.
Not that anyone needs reminding...but I'm going to VENT.
From floods and tragic deaths in Australia to the shootings in Arizona, to a stabbing in Dartmouth, not to mention- no, I won't mention details here but it has to do with children hurting children. The violation of innocents.
& there was the story of a single father of ten whose home burned down in Winnipeg. The teeth-scraping comments posted after the article made me think a lot about class and judgement and compassion or lack thereof. My own included.
& then there is Sudan
the plight of Haiti a year after
MADness. SADness. BADness?
So I remembered a poem about a women named Diana who suffered 'Death by Empathy'. Diana lives on the moon, looks down, ruminates. Asks how we still have “gall enough/ to call ourselves/ a human planet.
I realize creating a blog/video about building a home is a luxury in this sadmad world and yes, another survival/thrival strategy. A diversion. Medicine. Yep. Narrative therapy. One more time, creating is a way to live in a world I might not want
to be in
if I let
In a world that makes no sense to me, making nonsense has always made sense. Telling stories makes sense. Connecting makes sense. Children make sense. Writing makes sense.
Writing instead of writhing?
Writing as All Righting ?
Beat a drum. ( scream) On a trampoline. (scream)
Play music. Make music.
So. Life is mixed. And the first twelve days wasn't all bleak grim hopelessness.
I also: watched episodes of Extreme Makeover ( Yes, I do like those H&G channels ) and blubbered over an amazing couple who fostered special needs children and lived in a trailer with ten. (Where do people like that come from?)
Also: had sneak preview of a terrific book on gardens bloom in my hands
made snow angels
listened to CBC radio /heartened by the series on mental health issues on
learned of two upcoming marriages, one new baby
re-read a poem by Howard Thurman I love
a poem about the work of Christmas just beginning.
Yep, I sent up some prayers. Beams. Wishes. Whispers for Sad-glad-ness.
So on the home building front? The metaphors? Well, I discovered the word vent also refers to the slit in the back of a coat or a jacket. I digress. All is a digression. Writing /rewriting building/re-building or in this case --- "re-route-ing".
We also discovered that before the wiring, which goes before the installation of insulation, ( I mean the upcoming art exhibition) in what will e-VENT-ually be the family room, we had to re-route a vent. It’s not that the DDFM forgot, he just had his mind on other things.
First, we had to clean sawdust from cracks and then, well, watch and squirm? (Nowwearehome : Episode 2.) Maybe, smile a little? The Frenchman plays with words too.
Line of the week: We're too young to be old hippies and too old to be young hipsters.
Singer of the week: Mary Boyoi
Soup du (many) jour(s): Black Bean Leek and Turnip Stew
Quote du jour: "When you’re safe at home you wish you were having an ad-vent-ure, when you’re having an ad-vent-ure, you wish you were safe at home." ~ Thornton Wilder
Rebuttal: Not necessarily. Sometimes home is not that safe. Sometimes the adventure is home. Sometimes you gotta VENT!