Skip to main content
It has been a good week. 

I did a Vampyre Tarot reading last night that helped me re-focus on my own life and activities at a time when I was becoming obsessive-compulsive. The third card, in the Future position, was Eight of Skulls. This card spoke to the work I am doing for comps and gave me focus today as I worked through both the annotated bibliography and more readings. 

The description of the card in Phantasmagoria really spoke to me in how it mentioned not over-focusing on the bigger picture, but instead taking time with the details. I feel that's where I need to focus my energy with the readings for comps. Understanding the individual works. 

My mind still skips ahead to the future quite a bit, while I'm doing the readings. I wonder if I should include this short story or that when I teach the literature course in the Spring. I start to imagine how I would teach it. Then, I wonder if I'll have more opportunities to teach literature courses, or any courses at all, in future. If I'll be able to find a job once I graduate.

Yesterday, I began the fourth book in my Cristalle series, Rose Briar. I can't stick to a commitment other than to be present to some kind of writing every morning before I begin my work. I feel really lucky that I am in a place this Spring and Summer where I can begin the day focusing on my creative work before transitioning to teaching and graduate work. It won't be that way in the Fall, not as a daily practice.

I enjoyed using my spice grinder this week and making za'atar and Jamaican curry spice. The beans turned out okay. Next time, I will use coconut milk as the liquid, rather than the liquid from the beans, in order to give a richer flavor, and I will cut the Jamaican curry spice to two tablespoons rather than three. 

It's been interesting going back and reading through my old entries. I'm able to recall a lot through those entries and photos that I had forgotten. It's like being there again. It definitely curbs my craving to return to a time in the past. I think I yearn to return to those times, because the challenges I experienced then wouldn't be challenges to me now. I've worked through those problems and gotten stronger. Of course, I experience different struggles now, which I haven't figured out yet. 

Popular posts from this blog

The secret to a happy home

I finished Marion Harland's guide tonight and I wonder ceaselessly at two things. 1. She is so down on America! Even more than I am. She complains of things in which I am so well-steeped I could not see them for what they were. In particular, American style and cookery. It is true that our food, which we count as so much more generous in portion than the overseas counterpart, is as coarse and indecorous as it is plentiful, but as an American woman I cast up my hands and declare I would rather spend my time on something else. She makes an interesting point about American women's fashions. In France women wear what looks good on them, and in America women wears what comes off the manufacturing line in the latest style. It is very conformist, and I have to admit I feel it in myself, for I would be embarrassed to wear something that is "out" even if it flattered me better. 2. Harland's other point I feel clearly from last night's experiences. I looked in my journ...

Sprouts

Sprouts Originally uploaded by ladyhildegarde . I am getting sprouts. Hopefully they are carnations. It is such a beautiful spring day. It's good I'm taking the chance to come outside: I have craved a moment to reflect on something beautiful.

Poor sleep and bad dreams

I had a bad time of it last night. Going on two weeks now, I haven't felt right. I think though I don't talk about it that I haven't been right since I found out about Mrs. Mark. Lately I have been awakened in the middle of the night by Jonah's frights. I have to turn on the lights to check on him, and this normally wakes me up thoroughly. I can't not check on him because the thought that he might have hurt himself keeps me awake. Last night he was on the perch and the other two were on the floor, looking frightened. Why's my bird have to be such a pain in the ass? Why do I love him almost more than any other living thing? And I don't dream in my sleep so much as think, and it's never of anything calming: either of an error in one of my projects, or something just gruesome.