Rattling my chain
Its been one of those… eh… I want to say weeks, but really, its probably been longer. I’ve been struggling to get my #$%@ together.
I really don’t know what I should be doing with myself. Having a job, even one that you don’t like, at least serves to anchor you in reality. Being adrift, while initially seeming like the ideal free-form life… and lets be honest, this was a serious goal that I worked towards, its been embarrassingly hard for me.
I’m loathed to even whine about it, because it seems so ridiculous.
Vaguely I wonder if its my nihilism that has gotten loose, and is now running around the cavernous interior of my mind, rattling his shackles and generally causing all manner of mischief. Life is, after all, pointless. But I like to ignore that inconvenient fact (by chaining it to the wall near the back)
Which makes me think of Jacob Marley. But not (weirdly I suppose) in the original Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol context, but rather, its the Hellboy… eh… in Hell version that comes to mind…
Googling it I find Mike Mignolia (the artist) posted these panels on his twitter for Christmas one year, so I don’t feel particularly bad appropriating them here.
Hellboy has ‘died’. And gone eh… home. Sorta. Ha ha. Trying to explain comic books to people… especially Comic books that have had iterations spanning decades becomes quite difficult… anyways, somewhere on the outskirts he comes across this puppet show…
I love Hellboy.
That’s not to say I’ve been a miserable git of late. (well… I suppose I might have been… its difficult to judge ones own cantankerousness. Which is… strangely, not underlined in red. Which leads to me to believe its a real word. I mean. I’m not sure why that surprises me… its just that I usually have a bad track record when it comes to turning adjectives into nouns)
I’ve been busy with… stuff.
Making broth. From chicken feet.
I’m on this whole Fergus Henderson, from snout to tail crusade at the moment. I like my celebrity chefs cut from a certain cloth… Henderson, Bourdain… Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall. They all tend to have a more… honest, maybe, relationship with (murdering) their food.
In any event, it was quite good. There are a couple of things I’ll add to it next time. Cloves maybe. And Bay. I ‘pruned’ down my Bay tree to the ground last week. It was completely and utterly ‘scaled’ and I won’t use pesticides. Hopefully it will come back pest free. Or at least in a more manageable form.
Speaking of things growing in my garden…
My Cannabis sativa has sprouted and is going well. I wasn’t sure initially if they’d survive a coating of frost, so I was bringing them into the workshop every night (along with my other seedlings), but they’ve been living outside for the last two weeks now. Winter is basically over, I doubt it will dip below freezing again. I’m already wearing flip-flops during the day again.
In any event. We are burning daylight… and I have to spend some time wandering around the house aimlessly and maybe snuffling around in the refrigerator.
Need to check these things off my list.