The best New Year's exhortation I've seen--maybe ever:
"Believe in yourself like visitors who believe they can pet a bison."Unless you're already one of those people who believes they can pet a bison. Then, doubt yourself a little.
("Bison injure more people in Yellowstone than any other animal. Bison are unpredictable and can run 3x faster than humans."--NPS)
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THIS, below, is what Big Boss would like the thrift store to look like. He went and picked up a load of donated new (floor model) Home Goods. BB believes in the ministering /charitable side of the store, but he doesn't care about cool old stuff (thrift!).
I'm happy to have new stock to put out––and clean!––but could you get more boring?
My father's relatives, including Auntie Vi, liked decorative stuff like this. My father and his nine siblings had grown up in poverty, and they told stories about boiling water to kill cockroaches in an old house they moved into, wearing damp clothes because their one nice set hadn't dried after they washed it the night before.
Useless, generic objects symbolized resources and cleanliness to them as adults, I think. One auntie had white carpet, with plastic runners where people walked, to protect it. She never let a cake of soap get very washed away before she replaced it.
Some went the other way though. My father was a cheapskate, excited to tell you how he'd found the cheapest off-brand ON SALE.
But he'd spend real money on cool old toys (books, records).
My mother grew up middle-class and loved antiques, but my father was the one with quirky taste that I share. He'd think Toys Recreate Paintings was nifty. My mother would appreciate the art history but wish I'd do something more . . . culturally elevated.
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I didn't much enjoy Christmastime this year. Setting up Winter Village was nice. Recreating "Hunters in the Snow" was a highlight. And, weirdly, another was spending four hours at the art museum café with my sister. Surprising because we're not close. Not surprising because we're the only people who've known each other since babyhood. (She's the elder, by less than two years.)
We talked about the books we most enjoyed this year. Hers included Lessons in Chemistry.
My stand-out was Lytton Strachey's Eminent Victorians. But once again, I FAILed to keep track of my reading and couldn't remember many titles. Sister tracks hers on Goodreads. She has less to remember--I was surprised she'd only read a dozen books last year. Mostly of the book-club caliber.
I am indiscriminate--picking up odds and ends from thrift books and Little Free Libraries, nibbling and rejecting most of them. I quit Lessons in Chemistry: it felt like those Home Goods above.
So--THIS YEAR I intend to try, try again to keep better track of What I'm Reading.
Right now I'm on page 38 of No One Is Talking About This.
It's almost entirely references to social media---and I can follow it because I've been watching lots of TikTok and reels on IG etc. They are sometimes excellent--like Nike ads or Dutch still lives, they are sponsored by, arise from the Culture of the Times.
Our Times!
For better or worse.
It's also funny--I've laughed out loud--so I'll post something later, but that's it for now--I'm heading out into the sunny cold (single digits) to go to work. I have options--today, it's a combo of bus & walk. I decided it's better to walk a mile than to stand in the cold, waiting to transfer to the second bus.
Tootle-oo!