white

It was a grey day yesterday, but warmer than it had been for the last week, and no snow (to speak of) falling from the sky, so we decided to drive into the city to look for stoves. I’d been putting this off for perhaps a few years, but after the New Year’s Eve fiasco we decided it was time.

My current appliances are white; my kitchen cabinets are white; I wanted white. Have you been appliance shopping in the last few years? No white, all stainless :-( Stainless and black. Not white. Oh sure, there were a few basic stoves in white, but they weren’t convection and that was a must have. So, I settled on a mid-range range in stainless. Passed over the higher-range stainless which had some nice features but was mega expensive (could that have been the right one despite the expense?) I am underwhelmed and underexcited.

The earth is all white outside my window… the sky is white… everything is white except the freaking stove. I think I’m overthinking this and worrying too much about matching and how it looks.

As I walked around the showroom I couldn’t help but notice the fingerprints and smears that were so visible on the ss. Carm said he’d look after it.

I unearthed my copy of Alice Munro’s ‘My Best Stories’ from the bookshelf and have treated myself to one short story already. Even though I’ve read it before, maybe even multiple times, her turn of phrase continues to astound. In one paragraph she’s talking about murder…

“Does the thing have to be carried through, in the end, partly for the effect, to prove to the audience of one - who won’t be able to report, only register, the lesson - that such a thing can happen…”

The victim can’t report, but will register, seems to give the victim a voice, even in death. I love the way with words she has.

I’m a slow reader though as I savour and try to absorb each word, phrase and sentence. I study the punctuation and note that even dreaded comma splices are put to work. Semi colons, commas, and periods move then slow then speed the story along, creating a rhythm that adds a depth to her words.

The birds have finally found our bird feeder and none too soon as the temps are forecast to drop into the deep freeze range again. This morning the bright red feathers of the cardinal contrasted with the blue jay’s plumage. Christmas ornaments on the tree.

“The problem, often not discovered until late in life, is that when you look for things in life like love, meaning, motivation, it implies they are sitting behind a tree or under a rock. The most successful people in life recognize, that in life they create their own love, they manufacture their own meaning, they generate their own motivation. For me, I am driven by two main philosophies, know more today about the world than I knew yesterday. And lessen the suffering of others. You'd be surprised how far that gets you.”
~Neil deGrasse Tyson