Spring Blog Cleaning

spring cleaning2

Spring Blog Cleaning is like Spring House Cleaning only no major muscle groups are involved in making a blog tidy.  So it should be a lot easier.  However, “should” is a very annoying word.  And so is Spring, come to think of it, not making its appearance or even hinting at pretending to think about doing so.  At least not in my God-forsaken corner of the world where it’s still twenty below.  But as usual, I digress, so just ignore that, or store it away with the other bazillion weather complaints you’ve heard this week.

Today I deleted my second blog, which very few people knew existed.  Sorry to my 3.5 random followers, but I’m pretty sure you won’t even notice I’m gone.  All nineteen (yep, count ’em, nineteen!) blog posts from “Before the Lights Go Out” written over the past two or three years are now pages in a drop down menu in my header here between Home and About.  If you would like to check them out before they sit there collecting dust for the rest of my life, that would be nice.  But no pressure.

I also spent the better part of my Monday afternoon checking out other Word Press themes and trying to make the number of widgets I have less ridiculous.  It was a little like shopping for clothes and trying to de-clutter an entire house all at the same time.  There was something horribly wrong with some little thing on every theme I previewed and something endearing and wonderfully right about the things I couldn’t make myself delete.

From all this hard (brain) work we can now safely conclude that I am a creature of habit, stuck in a colossal rut, and not good with change.  Although, you know, deleting an entire blog was pretty gutsy I guess.

And it’s not the only thing I did today either.  While I was curled up on the living room couch this morning checking my emails and reading blog posts that were several hundred times better than this one, the sunlight caught my right leg at just the right angle for me to notice I’m beginning to look like an orangutan.  I didn’t gasp; it was the opposite of a sharp intake of air, and more like feeling totally incapable of drawing another breath.  I think this is how people die.  Stunned breathless, or something like that.  Anyway, my monkey legs are now shaved hairless and no one else’s life is in danger for the time being.

So, cleaned up blog, destroyed razor, onward and upward and spring is on the way.  I hope your Monday was equally exciting.

spring cleaning

Dandelions for Dinner

Somebody told me that March 28th is Spring Cleaning Day.  I’m just going to pretend I don’t know that.  A thorough cleaning of the entire house from top to bottom, letting in fresh air and sunshine and sweeping out all that winter dust – just thinking about it exhausts me.  Besides, the weather here is not co-operating, really.  Thank you weather.  It’s overcast and a bit foggy and only plus one, and not nearly windy enough to blow the cobwebs away.  So I’ll just add spring cleaning to my long list of things to put off indefinitely.  Or at least until the snow is gone and the dandelions arrive.  Although indefinitely is preferable in this case.

A few days ago I got a copy of Canadian Health and Lifestyle magazine in my mailbox.  I’m sure somewhere there was an explanation as to why, but if I saw it I don’t remember what it said.  What a depressing bunch of articles.  Now I’m sure I have early dementia, diabetes, parkinson’s disease, respiratory problems, and all kinds of lethal deficiencies from not eating enough vegetables.  And I’m almost convinced that I have been completely brainwashed when it comes to carbs.  Plus, my electronic devices are zapping the life out of me.  And as if all that’s not enough to make you suicidal, they sneak in the suggestion that we should all be eating delightful delicious dandelions. That’s where they lost me completely.

dandelion article

There’s the link, in case you think I made that up, and in case there’s a remote possibility that you might feel like whipping up some Dandelion Syrup to go with your buckwheat pancakes.  Or whatever kind of pancakes don’t give you dementia.

I’m going to get back to re-reading the Hunger Games trilogy – it’s way more cheery.

It’s suddenly June and….

…..another month bites the dust.  W. has been gone since the 10th of May (returning tomorrow), and I’ve had pneumonia.  But that’s cleared up and I’m now fighting mere allergies.  Which have my head completely plugged up, ears and all, even with a cortisone nasal spray and an inhaler on a daily basis.  Boo hoo, poor me.  Actually it’s getting better, but I like to milk these things for all they’re worth.

Dream Fairy

Dream Fairy (Photo credit: Alexandria LaNier)

I continue to read until my brain hurts.  I’ve done some amazing spring cleaning, store-room and various junk collecting spots (I’m embarrassed to admit they’re EVERYWHERE in this house…) and I’ve probably developed a severe reaction to dust along with all the pollen in the air.  A little air purifier and a cool air humidifier are supposed to help me sleep, but I’m wondering if all the noise they make is counter productive.  And I’m also trying to figure out why I get my second wind at this time of night so that I don’t feel even remotely like sleeping, and then it’s a huge struggle to get myself moving in the morning.My page a day forgotten English calendar has generally been boring the hell out of me, except for this wonderful little gem from the 18th of May, which was the birthday of Elias Ashmole (1617-1692).  What an unfortunate name.  The word for the day is pigwidgeon – “a kind of cant word for anything petty or small;  a fairy. ”  Since when are fairies petty??  Maybe they meant to say pretty.  “The word is of obscure origin and meaning.  Some have identified it with the name of a fairy knight favoured by Queen Mab, the wife of Oberon.”  (A fairy knight??) That just seems wrong.

Anyway, all that aside, Elias wrote a manuscript titled “An excellent way to get a fairy”, which reads:

“First, get a broad, square crystal, in length and breadth three inches, and lay it in the blood of a hen three Wednesdays or three Fridays.  Then take it out and wash it in Holy Water and fumigate it.  (Sounds pretty easy so far, right??  Crystals, hen blood and holy water being common household items.  I’m puzzled about the fumigator though, but that can probably be googled.)  Then take three hazel rods of a year’s growth, peel them fair and white, and write the fairy’s name, which you call three times, on every stick being made flat one side.  (So if you don’t know the fairy’s name, at this point you’re in big trouble).  Then bury them under some hill whereas you suppose fairies haunt the Wednesday before you call her; and the Friday following, call her three times at eight, or three, or ten of the clock.  (What kind of hills do fairies haunt?  Are they the size of ant hills?  or potato hills? or foot hills?  This is why I can never be good at this.  I just don’t know.)  But when you call, be in Clean Life and turn thy face towards the east; and when you have her, bind her in that crystal.”

Is it just me, or do you think there’s a couple of steps missing there at the end?  And after the mysterious binding, then what?  What exactly do you do with your crystal bound fairy?  Although this all at first seems like a LOT of information, apparently I need more.  And some motivation would be good too.  Otherwise I think I’ll just let the fairies get on with whatever it is fairies do and leave them alone.  Besides, Mr Ashmole never says in so many words that this excellent method actually works, and he does throw in a lot of tricky conditions that set you up for failure.  Like if your hazel tree is under a year old or your watch is wrong, the whole project is doomed.

And speaking of doomed projects, I’ve decided to take up painting again!  So far I’ve bought some new paints and a couple of boards and have drawn two outlines on them.  Whew.  All that in just over a week!  Now I need to decide on a place to start the actual painting without taking up a ridiculous amount of space and making a colossal mess.  Where the light is good.  In a chair that’s comfortable and where the table doesn’t wobble.  And a lot more conditions too numerous to get into.  I’ll get back to you on how that’s going.  Three Wednesdays from the next rainy Friday, if not sooner.