26.

A short list of satisfying things I’ve seen or done lately: - Shovelling snow off pavement, it formed a perfect curl on the shovel, and left completely clean pavement behind. - Pouring out the kettle, I had boiled exactly the right amount of water for my cup of tea. - Looking at the cat, asleep in her bed, she filled the centre completely. - Ripping a piece of paper in half, it went perfectly down the fold I made. - Looking at the sky at night, the moon and a star. - Looking up during the day, the sun. - Taking the first step in new snow.

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25.

Something I’ve been doing recently to help calm down is imagining myself arriving to my childhood house, coming through the door, and heading upstairs to my old bedroom. Each time I do it, I seem to ‘notice’ new details…remember, I suppose. I try to ‘look around’ in my mind’s eye as I walk through the house. I see small things I haven’t thought about in years, like the view out the window on the third floor landing (to the neighbour’s roof), or the linen closet where the cat would sleep, that smells like soap and has a fancy glass doorknob.

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24.

Also in the Breakfast Room (why not continue our deep dive…) were drawers full of crap. Probably every family had/has these. Our crap drawers had a lot of ancient and intriguing stationary supplies: fancy paper for tracing or elegant writing, drafting kits from my engineer dad and grandfather, calligraphy pens/nibs/ink, too many protractors, ugly Christmas cards that you’d never send someone, but never – never – a useful pen that worked. While visiting my parents I saw a certain permanent marker I recognized from childhood. Could it be the exact same one? Odds are pretty good, honestly. Nothing is ever thrown out.

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23.

Also in the Breakfast Room was a parquet floor. 5 small wooden rectangular tiles going this way, and 5 going that way, back and forth across the room. I always liked it, even though now I know it’s supposed to be “cheap” or whatever. If I ever have the good fortune of a house, maybe I’ll put in a simple parquet floor. The Breakfast Room floor wasn’t shiny, and was pretty worn down in many places – not well maintained, honestly. But it was different than the boring straight long boards of the wood floors in the living/dining rooms, and I appreciated that!

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22.

In our ‘breakfast room’ there was a sliding door that opened to the deck and backyard. When I was 9 or 10, a curtain was installed to help keep the draft out. I remember it being laid out in the living room so we could string strings through little O-rings in the hopes that it would raise and lower. But the fabric (vertical stripes in late-90s purple/grey) was too heavy, and the strings weren’t strong enough. So it mostly just stayed down, and we never had a view of the yard. The cat always went behind to look out – I’m kinda jealous.

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21.

I like the idea of Auntie/Uncle. They fit me better. Slightly removed, but still caring. Someone once called me the ‘Choir Mom’ while we were on tour because I happened to be the oldest in the group. I said, “Absolutely not! I am the Choir Auntie…I’ll remind you to put your sunscreen on, and then we’ll go get a beer.” This not-quite-parental role. One sidestep removed. It’s just enough space from parents for special relationships to form. I don’t have any biological nieces/nephews, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to be a family tree that makes me Auntie Katy.

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20.

The thing is that I think too much. I gotta think less do more. Action first, think later. Not drastic things – I’m not going to jump off a cliff without considering the consequences. But simple things – messing around on the piano and playing REALLY LOUDLY then mashing as many keys as possible all at once and LAUGHING about how silly it is – sending the text without rewriting it eight times – saying yes if I want to say yes – turning left instead of right and SEEING WHAT HAPPENS. I need to find adventure! Adventure needs to know that I am ready!

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19.

My calendar is starting to fill in a way that it hasn’t since it emptied all at once, and suddenly. Rehearsal. Gig. Concert. Dress rehearsal. Show. Dinner. Meeting. Words that were forbidden from my planner for so many months. It seems strange that it feels so full and so busy, and yet, it’s definitely still less than before. It is exciting to be doing things. But I’m also guarded. I have enjoyed doing less. I don’t want to get back to the over-fullness that was the normal. I want to protect the time and space I’ve learned is so necessary.

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18.

patterns for your sunday:
k1p1 ribbing:
knit purl knit purl knit purl
knit purl knit purl knit purl
knit purl knit purl knit purl
knit purl knit purl knit purl
k2p2 ribbing:
knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl
knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl
knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl
knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl
a lil checkerboard pattern:
knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl
knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl
purl purl knit knit purl purl knit knit
purl purl knit knit purl purl knit knit

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17.

this is an “oooooooooooooooo gotta get it done and then i can fall asleep” kind of 100 words. throwing words on the page and assuming that they will make sentences. why am i tired? because i got to sing sing sing in choir tonight. and tomorrow and the next day. with mask. with space between. but singing singing nonetheless. imagine your voice is coming from two feet in front of you. imagine everyone can still see your whole face and keep your eyes alive. imagine we haven’t been here in so long that we’ve almost forgotten what it’s like – oh wait.

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16.

Does it ever happen to you that you thought you had no expectations, but then you do something and nothing happens, and you realize you kinda did have some? A cryptic way to say: I sent something vulnerable out the other day and got no response (yet). Even though I didn’t think I had any expectations, my disappointment at the complete silence clearly shows that I did. That throws me off. I am working to be more aware of my own patterns/mind/emotions, though. Next steps: sit with whatever it is for a moment, and experiment with letting it go. Goodbye!

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15.

I’ve been lucky to have some wonderful mentors so far in my life. There are the obvious ones…teachers, professors, conductors, and such. But who do I overlook, and who else is a mentor, even if they don’t hold some kind of ‘official’ role. Who has taught me through their interest in me and my life? Or even just by being who they are, unrelated to me in any way? [a long pause] One possible answer: nature and trees. A bit of a cop-out answer: everyone I meet. [another pause] Am I mentor to anyone? Am I ok with that responsibility?

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14.

I sit quietly all night, waiting for the morning and my time to shine! I am built for this! Holding tea is my life’s work (I suppose it could be other liquids too, although that has never happened). When she comes into the kitchen, and turns on the kettle, and brings me over to the counter, I can’t wait for that first drop to splash down. I almost jump for joy - but I don’t - this is serious business. I do this job so. well. There are others in the cupboard, but she never chooses them. Therefore: I am the best.

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13.

After a vacation, a return. I was thinking about circles and cycles and wheels. The seconds inside minutes inside hours inside days inside months inside years. The moon goes around earth goes around sun. And I dance around the whole thing, never quite getting to the point of it all. I try to explain to myself that I am not going in circles. Instead, I am going in a spiral. Each loop around is [infinitesimally] shifted from the previous time. Eventually, I’ll be somewhere different without even realizing it. Spirals can move us forward. Circles will always keep us stuck.

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12.

Today has been a day of seeing birds playing. Chickadees chasing one another from branch to branch. Blue jays chasing one another from tree to tree. Mourning doves playing tag as they shuffle through the fallen leaves. A seagull picking something up in its beak, flying up, dropping it, and diving to catch it before it’s lost entirely…or miss it and watch the thing fall into the water, then go find something else and start again. Crows being crows, who are always playing tricks on everyone (we love them for it). And a hawk…but he was too serious to play.

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11.

Her house is how I’d like mine to be one day: comfortably lived-in and a clear reflection of everything that makes her who she is. There is no question of whose house it is when you walk in the door. The objects, unconsciously or consciously chosen, are extensions of her life and activities and family. That’s what I’d like. Someone should be able to come into my space and know that it is mine without question. They could see me imprinted on that place in ways that can’t really be expressed. Wouldn’t that be a nice legacy to leave behind?

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10.

[November 8]
“Welcome home!” Except this house really isn’t my home: it’s theirs. I once spent some months here in transit between one terrible life experience and one wonderful life experience. I don’t have foundational or important memories in this place. Fond ones, sure, but nothing that inextricably ties me to it. The old house, the one I would consider ‘home,’ is gone – torn down by people who couldn’t see its value and built an ugly thing in its place. So then, where is ‘home’ for me? This is my big question these days, it seems. Slowly, I’m finding it in myself.

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9.

Compline: In the stillness of the evening, we call to mind the day that has passed. What did we do? What did we not do? What will we do again tomorrow? What will we never do again? Who uplifted us? Who annoyed us, and do they deserve that label? Who helped fill our cup (literal or metaphorical)? Where did we go? Where should we have gone? Where will we go from here? When did we offer ourselves kindness? When did we rest? When did we take action? When did everything happen? And, of course, the biggest, most eternal question: Why?

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8.

Missed a day, but I’m not concerned. The whole point is just to write (hopefully) every day. The only one who would punish me for falling briefly behind, is me. And I’m not going to do that. It is a test of my commitment to myself. It’s all fine and good to say that I’ll show up every day, but it’s even better to show up again after missing a day. Too often, I miss an iteration of something (a workout, vitamins, flossing) and then throw it all away, instead of just picking up again the next day and continuing.

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7.

Once upon a time, Katy sat down to write 100 words and couldn’t get past 15. Oh look. Up to 18 - a new record! First, she started writing about two characters named Gerald and Reginald, based on the giraffe and bird pictured on her desktop wallpaper. In the story that wasn’t to be, Gerald would agree to give Reginald a lift (because he’s so tall and Reginald so short), and then Reginald would fly up to Gerald’s head. So why did he need a lift in the first place? We’ll never know. That story never got written, this one did instead! The end.

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