And all I ever meant to do was to keep you

And under the boughs unbowed
All clothed in a snowy shroud
She had no heart so hardened
All under the boughs unbowed

Each feather it fell from skin
Till threadbare while she grew thin

–the Decemberists/the Crane Wife 3

 

Sound the keening bell
To see it’s painted red
Soft as fontanel
The feathers in the thread
And all I ever meant to do was to keep you

–the Decemberists/the Crane Wife 1 and 2

 

Sometimes you love someone and end up hurting them without meaning any harm. Maybe there is something fundamental about them you didn’t understand,  Maybe you didn’t understand what the cost would be to them or to yourself for letting something continue.

 

I only wanted to…

I just meant to….

All I wanted was to…

 

Followed with the almost inevitable

I never meant to…

 

Keep you. Not lose you. Stay with you. Be near you. Love you.

Love you.

Not

Hurt you. Kill you. Break your heart.

 

In an English class, about a million years ago, a teacher once told us that what makes a merely  sad story tragic is  inevitability.  Romeo and Juliet have to die. There’s no way around it.

I’m not sure that’s true.

Is it the inevitability that makes it tragic, or the heartbreak?

Certainly a certain amount of heartbreak is inevitable if you have a heart that feels anything at all.

 

Isn’t it?

Inevitable.

 

People come together and offer each other their gifts, and their flaws.

We don’t always knows what the gifts are really worth, or how much the flaws draw from us.

Sometimes, we find out and it’s too late.

 

 

 

 

How were my eyes so blinded?
Each feather it fell from skin

And I will hang my head low.

–the Decemberists/the Crane Wife 3

Misinterpretation, anyone?

There comes a time when you swim or sink so I jumped in the drink ’cause I couldn’t make myself clear.

Maybe I wrote in invisible ink, oh I’ve tried to think how I could’ve made it appear.
Aimee Mann/Invisible Ink

 

 

Aimee Mann is the Queen of Misunderstanding Angst.

Or maybe she’s  the Queen of all Angst.

(Didn’t you love her when she was on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and performed at the Bronze? Me, too. Also, I miss Buffy.)

But that is not what I want to talk about.

 

I am easily distracted. Did I mention that?

Oh.

Well.

I am.

Squirrel!

 

Misunderstanding. Misreading. Misinterpretation.

Mistakes. Misremembering.

All the shit that goes along with trying to communicate.

It is easy for people to talk, but ohhhh.

Not so easy to make ourselves understood.

Between word choice, inattention and the tricks played by memory, it’s a miracle that anyone understands anything anyone says.

 

Did you all see this article about scientists implanting false memories in mice? I really need to stop reading shit like that. You know that feeling when you just know for certain that something is true? They can reproduce it by putting a certain protein in your brain and then shining a light on it (I am simplifying a bit).  So on top of the problems we already have with communicating, we now have to worry that we’re trying to communicate about something that may not have even happened? That’s all I need. I mean, I know that memory is unreliable, I do, but it’s another thing to have folks working on a how-to.

 

I suppose I can worry about it once scientists have found a less invasive way to shine light into our brains.  At this point it isn’t exactly something your kids will be able to do just to mess you up.

 

 

Watch Aimee sing “Invisible Ink”  if you want…

 

Oh, and many invisible inks will appear if you hold the paper over light.

A lot of things get clearer with light.

Bad skin.

Books.

Flaws in knitting.

 

Thankfully not flaws in logic.

 

If you hold me up to a light, will I be any clearer?

 

 

A very incomplete list of things I am thankful for. Very. Incomplete.

Liquor stores, bars and taverns.  All those pretty bottles  make us feel happier, even if it’s only temporary.  Gratitude extends to beer, wine and all forms of adult beverages consumed in bars or in private residences.

 

Blue skies.

 

Trees.

 

The Pacific Ocean.

 

Books.

 

Music.

 

Music.

 

Books.

 

I know, but I really love books and music.

 

Deep thoughts.

 

Smart phones. Instant gratification on everything I am curious about–and I am curious a LOT.

 

Clouds.

 

Rain. Yes, I did express thanks for blue skies earlier.

 

Nacho Cheese Doritos.

 

Popsicles.

 

Asparagus.

 

Coffee. Oh my gosh, how did coffee not get thanks until this far down the list??

Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

 

Music, books, music, books. I can’t let them think I love coffee more.

 

Down comforters in the Winter.

 

Pie.

 

Water.

 

French fries.

 

Ceiling fans.

 

Wool. I can spin it into yarn and then knit and weave garments. You will want to be my friend in the event of an apocalypse.

 

Black eyeliner.

 

Indoor plumbing.

 

Cars.

 

Cute shoes.

 

Northern Italy.

 

Cheese.

 

Pasta.

 

OK let’s just say food and call it good..but especially cheese and pasta. If you had cheese, pasta, coffee, beer and water you would not need a whole lot else. Especially if you knew someone who could knit you wool socks.

 

Fall days where it is just cool enough that you know that you won’t be able to go without a jacket for much longer but you still can.

 

The brassiere.

Air conditioned bedrooms

 

Keyboards/computers. As a leftie, it is wonderful to go through the day without my left hand all smudged. If you write from left to right like we do in English, and hold the pen or pencil in your left hand, it smears through everything you write and leaves the outer edge of your hand all stained. This problem is no longer much of an issue now that we do so much of our writing at a keyboard.

 

Smiling and laughing.

 

Teeth.

 

Clarence and George.

 

Rhett and Scarlett.

 

Hitchcock.

 

The tongue.

 

Amazon.

 

Words.

 

Silence.

 

Hats.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lists.