This morning, 5am greeted me without alarm and I followed the suggestion of one of our hosts for enjoying garden-side bunny frolicking. Wrapped in a fleecy blanket, I quietly prepared a small french press of coffee before slipping outside to settle into the front seat of an old car by the barn. Steam rose from my cup as a chicken wandered past, no doubt wondering why I was there without it’s breakfast.
After some more sitting, watching the cottontails in the dewy grass, I visited the chicken coop, gave the goats some good head rubs, and went back inside the cottage to my cozy bed. Sleep overtook me once more and I woke a few hours later, sunlight seeping through the cracks in the curtains.
Leftover pancakes were reheated on a charming white dish and the rest of the french press drained while a fresh egg sizzled in the small cast iron skillet.
There’s something so lovely about sitting outside, shaded from the sun, with a cool, fragrant breeze stirring the pages I write on and enhancing food’s flavor. Two, towering, evergreens stand nearby, their branches swaying ever so slightly. Ants file past my bare feet on the smooth wood of the deck. A moth flits from wildflower to wildflower. Oh, what peace.
Do you ever go through periods of time when nothing interests you and you can’t force yourself to care about what previously, was all you thought about? Last week I couldn’t bring myself to do anything, care about anything, be interested in anything, despite the week before being full of motivation and inspiration.
I still don’t have the desire to put effort or focus into my usual interests but I’ve managed to force myself to accomplish the responsible things like laundry and cleaning; still working having an appetite. There are two things that have garnered my attention and interest. Unfortunately, they are not specifically productive to this blog or my creative goals that I can see.
A large amount of brain space has been occupied by the newest series on Netflix to snag my for-now obsession. It’s had the power to make me buy the books only a day after finishing season 1. I haven’t bought books in years, let alone with the fervor of expectant waiting that follows the tracking of my package. I’m both pleased with this outcome and displeased that it hasn’t happened for my other interests or the other books already on my shelves. I guess I’ll take what I can get.
The other object of my interest and excitement: planning a short trip for my birthday this summer. While I had originally been planning on international travel, this trip is just full enough of aesthetic dream content to stir my meh brain. My friend and I plan to stay in a lovely little cottage on a farm where there is plenty of opportunity to live out the associated fantasy. There is still much to be done for this trip but the knowledge that we will be able to stay at the gorgeous Airbnb and that I’ve gotten the minimum time off work approved, gives me that lift that I could really use right now.
Are you feeling oddly blah and kind of down despite Spring pushing through and things looking up as far as returning to “normal life” goes? What are some things that have caught or held your interest?
Our negative degree weather has finally caught up to us here in the Midwest. As I am striving to eat out less, make healthy options the only ones available at home, and enjoy the process, soup is a main staple! My great grandma used to make this amazingly cozy, ground beef and vegetable soup. While, unfortunately, we don’t have the recipe in our possession, my mother found a similar one on Pinterest and we modify it. I recently made a couple large batches and brought some to share with my coworkers. There’s just something about a warming, homemade soup and validation from non-family that it is, in fact, delicious. Chopping vegetables can be oddly therapeutic, not including the onions of course, and pretending that I live in a cozy cottage in the woods doesn’t hurt either.
Let me know if you want the recipe and modifications! Otherwise, here is a little video of happy soup-making time.