enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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This is maudlin. I apologize.

So I have decided that I am going to concentrate more fully and write more thoughtful entries in the future. I have a rush of ideas throughout the day and yet I never manage to corral the patience that I require to put them in print. I'm a free spirit who desperately requires taming.

I had a lovely and productive day. I got to work immediately upon waking and rapidly completed and posted two projects. I then chatted with my mom at length. With all of the windows thrown wide open to the garden I felt as though I was actually sitting in the garden. My flat has such a lovely, peaceful quality about it. I was saying to my mom, in fact, that my last few months of study here will be tolerable given that I can work and study with the windows thrown open. I really am a creature of the outdoors.

Did I mention that a funny thing about the bumps in my mouth is that apparently this particular abnormality is more common among First Nations people than among Caucasians? This is particularly interesting to me since--and I'm sure I've mentioned this--I've always felt that there was a little bit of undisclosed intrigue in my family. In other words, I've always suspected that I have a tiny bit of undisclosed First Nations heritage. I would be delighted if that were true.

The official story is that my family is entirely of English, Irish and Scottish descent, with the first arrivals to Canada having landed in Nova Scotia in 1737. Others made their way to Ontario in the mid-1800s. My paternal grandmother, however, had the look of a native woman, and I have something of her mysterious pigmentation and fragments of her facial features. I never met her mother. My grandmother was born in Newfoundland, where the family lived prior to her father's hiring as the headmaster of a posh school for boys in Toronto in the 1920s. Nothing was ever revealed about her family's life prior to the Toronto years.

Anyhow. It's all a multi-layered figment of my imagination. This is something that I love well.

Will the sky quiver with a colour that I have worn? (ID)

I'm not quite making sense here. My mind is skipping like stones from one quivering, shimmering, fragrant thought to another. My heart is still outdoors, even though the windows are closed for the evening.

I am going to go now and make a cup of tea. I must complete a proposal for a resource service that I am preparing for a social policy think-tank. I have to meet an official from Ottawa for lunch tomorrow. It's a casual networking thing. He emailed me out of the blue that he is going to be in town tomorrow--goodness knows why--and so we are having lunch. Expanding one's contact base is good...and there is nothing much more that one needs to say about this. Well, except that I must get into practise at this again. I look at the process as simple and natural but I suspect that over the last few years I have grown too outspoken, independent, and wrinkly. What I mean by this is that my quirks have taken on a visible life and I am no longer accustomed to concealing them. I suppose this makes me sound a little bit like the old lady who is oblivious to the fact that she is making rude noises in public. I am headed in this direction, although I am not quite there yet.

I made a simple, simple, simple vegetable gratin recipe from my Mod3rn Greek cookbook this afternoon, whilst talking to my mother on the phone. My desperate love of all things Italian and especially Jam!e Oliv3r's Italian escapades--one of which I watched on tv last night--convinces me that there is absolutely no food as beautiful to me as the simplest food, made with love and only a few ingredients. It's like that love and fresh water thing that I love so well. Hardly original but simplicity, simplicity, simplicity is the secret for me to living well.

10:43 p.m. - 2006-05-14

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