2020-10-05 A Day at Waubonsie

What must it be like to have your day defined by the hunt for firewood.. or searching for viable acorns? I had a lot of stray thoughts yesterday as my mind tried to walk away from the conversations in play. Someone would say something and I would think about that for a second and then I would follow that thread away and stop paying attention. It’s not that the conversation wasn’t interesting. On the contrary. I was very interested in these other people’s musings and talk that was at the front of their mind.

It’s just that I haven’t opened my mind in a while for new thoughts. The classic broken record on repeat (those who visit frequently to read what I am thinking know all too well). So having a whole day with new thoughts and ideas from other folks was a lot to process in the moment. A thing I’m not great at anyway. I even had to pop my phone out a few times to make a note of something I wanted to research more on or think about later so as to not lose track of it as one topic was quickly stacked onto another.

There was a lot of talk about academia. A subject I’m pretty ignorant about so I don’t have a lot to contribute. Things like what systematic problems exist and why someone might choose to stay in the field versus leaving to find something else. And my mind wanders away.

Talk about career. These are things I’ve beat like a dead horse and my opinions are clear. Working for your life for someone else or some organization. I’m on the side of it not mattering as long as you find yourself doing something you get satisfaction and value out of. Something that makes you feel fulfilled and like you have a good purpose.

There will always, always, ALWAYS be issues and things you don’t like about it. Frustrations, or people, or company politics that suck. That’s life. But does it pay the bills? Can you live the way you want with the moneys provided? Is there enough time at the end of the day to breathe? Time to do something else you enjoy? Time enough to give yourself to other people you love?

If so. That’s better than a lot of folks. Which is another good point. That it’s more important to have a measuring stick built on your own ideals than to fashion one that’s a replica of someone else’s. Or worse.. what the world at large has decided it should look like. Yeah, that standard issue stick is definitely not right for most.

I can’t directly give people advise. I just can’t. But if I could, I would say all of this. My fear is that people would look at my life (now) and say, “easy for you to say.” Which might lead to me getting defensive about the path of my life. And I’d have to start at the beginning and explain everything and nobody has time for that.

As Jack and Robert talked about their hunt for firewood, I could not help but think about the fact that I’m so conservative about everything. Something buried in me from my upbringing compels me to save things. I try to eat every bit of leftovers in the fridge (and am strict about not throwing food away). I save dryer sheets cuz I can’t bring myself to throw away something that has so much purpose left in it after one or two runs in the dryer. I wash out plastic bags because I don’t want to contribute to the piles of plastic that won’t decompose in the world. Is there nothing we can do with these super soft plastics? I need to look into that.

As of late I find myself slipping a bit, changing ever so slightly and letting something go into to trash that I previously would not. And am ashamed of myself. I don’t want to change that part of me.

Robert talked about sleeping out in the cold in his tent and how with one quilt, tucked just right, he got better sleep than he’s had in a great while. It made me want to try it. No space heater, no fire, just a blanket and my own body heat.


The primary goal of the “Shack Simple” day is to be restorative and just get back to a simpler way. Perhaps spend more than a day, cleanse the body of toxins, cleanse the mind of toxins, and just exist. Rediscover what it feels like to just be a creature that is a part of a grand ecosystem without all the fuss that comes with being human.

Of course it’s tough not to talk about current events. Politics, the president, and the coronavirus. Those were the topics I had the toughest time staying with the conversation. I want to cleanse my mind of toxins and not pump more in. Also I’m just tired of it all and have built up a wall to protect myself from it. Yes, of course I’ll vote, but it does me no good to get riled up about it. So I just sat there and tried to listen. I like to just listen (most of the time).


Today is the first Monday I don’t have to work. Yesterday it was decided that what I am is retired. Retired and ready to give my life to Poetry. Yes, Poetry, I’m open and ready to receive.

I don’t yet have words to describe how I feel. But I’ll keep working on that.

Thanks Michelle, Gina, Robert, and Jack for a lovely day yesterday. And cheers to having another soon.

Until next time,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-10-04 On Days Like Today

On days like today I’m reminded how my son never wants to go outside. He resists it each and every time that I’ve suggested it, reliable as day turning to night as the sun slides down the sky. It always frustrates me because the outdoors has so much to offer. I ask myself as much as I ask him “why would anyone refuse it?”

The breeze and the sun.
The joy of stopping a fast moving soccer ball before it hits your opponents goal.
The mysticism in breath turning into fog on a cold morning.
The bounty of squirrels and birds busy with their own intentions.
That same cat that comes slinking around the porch at dusk that always makes you wonder if it is going, away from home or towards it. It must have a home right? You think about putting out a bowl of food or water.
And trees. Trees! So many different stories waiting to unfold there in the shade. Or perhaps just a good nap.
Have you ever slept outside?
You really can’t say you have lived unless you’ve slept outside. Exposed and open to every sound. Every star in the sky whispering the dreams they had on the way to greet you in the night. Their big plans for the future.

But he always says “no.”
Tells me he’s in the middle of something or has some excuse or another why not. Too cold. Too hot. Too tired. Too busy.

I try my best to be a good mother and so press a little harder. Coax with promises of fun. Press with my well rehearsed speech about living a balanced life and how important it is. He remains unimpressed. Sometimes he’s looking me in the eye and other times his back is turned.

Sometimes I let it go. And other times I conjure ultimatums. I push to the point he really has no choice. He follows me out the door, slumped shouldered and angry. I can feel his eyes burning the back of my head.

A half an hour later we are speaking to each other in British accents and laughing. We could be walking the block or, if we’re really lucky there’s a snow covered hill and we have our sled disks with us and we can get a rush from sliding down backwards. Maybe we carry our tennis rackets to the court to volley for a bit or, if it’s a hot day, we might sit by the side of the pool with our feet dipped in.

At least I imagine that’s how it would be if he followed me outside. Each and every time I’ve convinced him, he tries hard to resist letting it show that he’s having a good time until finally he gives in. He says something outrageous and I reply with “bloody hell!”

I know it is in his nature to resist but I also know, that even if he will refuse to admit it, these are the good times we’ll both remember. That he had fun when he finally gave in.

Today, for whatever reason, I was resisting my own plan to spend the day outside. Grumbling at myself as I rolled out of bed that I had promised my Sunday to the Sunshine. With no good reason why.


On days like today I need to remember how wonderful life can be, if we just open the doors and let it breathe.

It was a good day; a satisfying day. And I got to meet the grandmother chinquapin oak tree, not too far off the beaten path. Jack says the tree predates white man being in the area. That means that the tree is older than my heritage in America. That’s an old tree.

I’ve got more to say about my outing today, but it did wear me out a wee bit and I’d like to just sleep on all my thoughts a little.

Perhaps there will be more tomorrow. Perhaps not.
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-08-05 The “Hopeless” in Hopeless Romantic

Today I found myself feeling very anti-social and melancholy and consequently walking around Walnut Creek again. I arrived just about 45 minutes prior to sunset and when I began walking I paced myself so that I could enjoy the sunset from the path on east side of the lake looking west.

Most of the music that came up on shuffle tonight was not inspirational, until the very last turn when Soma by the Smashing Pumpkins came on and I thought to myself, “No more appropriate song to serenade the sunset for me tonight”. As I rounded that last corner, still walking east I kept peering behind me hoping I was not going to miss the final dip into the horizon. I didn’t. I even walked off the path toward the lake to have a seat in the grass and revel in the glory of the final minutes and seconds of the suns light as it disappeared from the sky.

I’ve always been captivated by the sunrise and sunset. I’ve always felt a certain tug from nature and a desire to make those events my number one priority in the instances the opportunities are near. I’ll drive in the wrong direction to have a better view. I will go out of my way to get to a higher vantage point or spend extra time waiting even if there is somewhere else I am supposed to be. There is just something special about witnessing the sunset. Something that just can’t compare to most things really.

It’s an acknowledgement of the cyclical nature of things and the significance and insignificance of everything we see and feel in this world. It brings about reflection about ones place in the universe and a peace that is complex and masterful. It’s a reminder of the variability of life and the cynical nature of time. The sun sets ever so slowly but is gone in the blink of an eye. As with life it is both quick and long and as long as I am able, I will continue to seek out these moments, these moments that happen every day but are also so few and far between. I want to sing to the sun “Nothing left to say; And All I’ve left to do; Is Run away from you”. It’s part of the nature of me. Some sort of hopeless romantic.

But what does the hopeless in hopeless romantic really mean? The very terminology is quite ironic as someone who is blessed or cursed with this affliction as I am knows, “hopeless” really means bound forever to hope. Hopeless in the way that there is no escaping from the hope of the grand ideals of romance. The endless daydream of something that is a kin to a fairy-tale story for the loves they may have in their life. Its a grandiose escape from reality. Some notion that the one true love of ones life is a perfect match that will sweep them off their feet and that life together will be bliss.

Not only that, but that every day will be one after the next of stolen kisses and holding hands and long walks and talks by the lake at sunset. Real life persists, but love conquers all. There is nothing hopeless about any of that, save the constant flutter that can’t be satisfied in ones heart at the thought of some of these daydreams coming true.

I blame this quality in myself for my inability to make connections with people I’ve met… because I’m hoping for something more. I described the other night how I felt when I first laid eyes on Matt and how I don’t really want to settle for anything less. If I dial it back a few years before that, I had the same feeling about another person, when they put their arm around me late in the night after driving me home from a party. And going back further still, way back to the beginning of my dating days when I first began speaking to Brian and felt that spark of something more. I know what it feels like and so now I will not settle for less.

I can say I have had it genuinely only once with the new people I have met recently and I’m having a hard time separating that or distilling it down to know if what I am feeling is real, or if it is just the fact that I want so badly to feel it. Are my daydreams getting the best of me or can there possibly be something more there? I’m hopeful and therefore I am hopeless. You see how ironic that is?

So it’s 10PM now and I’ve had a glass or two of wine on this fine Saturday evening. I’d decided hours ago that I wanted to spend the evening alone with my thoughts so I could try and gain some clarity in several areas. Ironic again because clarity does not present itself easily when wine is involved. A good night sleep probably won’t either, but I have all day tomorrow to relax and recover if I don’t sleep well. Hell, I have all day tomorrow and the next and the next and the one after that if I need it. So bring on another glass and let the daydreaming continue.

Cheers,
~Miss SugarCookie