Ice and Sun

The lawn and the rooftops are covered with ice and the air was clouded with a cold mist this morning, but now the sun is out and the sky is clear blue.

Erika, that I met at the workshop, suggested that once we had ice on the ground here I should find a big empty parking lot and practice driving on ice. She and her friend then proceeded to suggest the best parking lots, which were all far from my house. I told them if the parking lot to practice in is too far from my house I am going to end up practicing on ice on the road to get there and that defeats the point! I'm thinking that the parking lot for the bowling alley down the street is the ticket, or else there is a big hospital around the corner with a big parking lot. Maybe the hospital would be better, then if I get in an accident and hurt myself I can just walk on over.

Several people have told me they have allergy problems here year round, but the frosty weather seems to have put an end to mine.

Cruiser is driving me nuts every morning this week and sitting at the computer is a battle. He's on the chair, then the desk, then knocking over the lamp, then back to my lap. Yesterday he was whining, whining, all day, so I went out to get away from him in the late afternoon. (If he's having trouble with the cold weather, then it is going to be a long Winter.) Mary Kay invited me for Thanksgiving and I told her I would come if I can bring an apple pie. I make one every year and I was wondering if I made one this year who was going to eat it, so that problem is solved. I was thinking of using Honeycrisp apples this year, although if I am going to show off I may stick with the usual Golden Delicious. Honeycrisp apples are fairly new and popular here. They are similar to Golden Delicious and according to what I found on-line, they are excellent in a pie.

The next enlightenment topic is Fear and Risk-Taking, with an excerpt from In Memoriam A.H.H. by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

I envy not in any moods
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods;

In envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weeds of sloth:
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'T is better to have loved and lost
than never to have loved at all.

The poem was written in honor of Arthur Henry Hallam, another poet and friend of Tennyson, who died at the young age of 22. At the age of 18, Hallam fell in love with Tennyson's sister, but Hallam died before they could be married. This is pretty much the same topic as yesterday. There is nothing that inspires growth like failure, so make growth a goal. If you think of failure as teaching you something and getting you closer to your goal, then it is really not such a bad thing. If you don't try, so you can't fail, then you stagnate. I'm wondering if we should let people fail more, so they can grow. Growth is painful and I tend to avoid it as long as possible.

I am painting first thing every morning, but the painting I'm working on now is slow going for some reason. Luckily, Cruiser can't get up on the drafting table and he does not enjoy walking around on the paint palette, although Spit likes to drink out of the water jar. Yesterday I went to wash my brush and there was Spit with her head in the jar and I had to wait until she was done.