TELLING OUR STORIES: THE SALT AND SWEET OF OUR LIVES

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When I can’t get motivated to do chores, pay bills or clean house, I think, “what CAN I do that’s productive, that will get me off my duff and up and about?” I have a list of things a mile long I want to do, another I need to do, and I’ve put both off. Some I can’t start because I need more time to devote to them and others I just don’t like doing.

This is where I need a boss voice to light a fire on my resting place and get me excited about leaping up. My boss voice is much quieter since I retired, however. And good riddance, to boot.

The world won’t come to an end if I leave off the dusting for another day. Writing my memoirs while I still have my memories and the ability to put words and phrases together is much more important. The grandchildren, nephews and nieces are too busy growing up right now to sit still for my old stories.

When they finally slow down, either I or my memories will be gone. So I’m writing them now. It’s my story and I’m sticking to it. If I ever thought painting was exhausting work, it was only because I never took up the pen!

This age, as with every age, will never come again. My grandfather told of the first time he ever saw an electric light in a home. I grew up always knowing of this experience. When I came to Arkansas, I met people not much older than I who spent their childhoods without the benefit of electricity. I didn’t realize that some parts of the south were that rural that deep into the twentieth century.

Our stories of our lives and those of our ancestors are the sweet and the salt that add the taste and texture to the blandness of our over processed factory made food lives of today. We all see the same media, follow the same news, and eventually get the same fashions to wear on our backs. Even our regional accents are disappearing, along with our regional food preferences.

Will we lose ourselves and our stories by living fast and over processed lives? Will we reduce our stories to #mylife or 140 tweets? Visit me in CORNIE’S KITCHEN. We’ll slow down enough to have a cup of coffee or tea and have a little chat. I feel more like talking today than being busy.

When I can’t get motivated to do chores, pay bills or clean house, I think, “what CAN I do that’s productive, that will get me off my duff and up and about?” I have a list of things a mile long I want to do, another I need to do, and I’ve put both off. Some I can’t start because I need more time to devote to them and others I just don’t like doing.

This is where I need a boss voice to light a fire on my resting place and get me excited about leaping up. My boss voice is much quieter since I retired, however. And good riddance, to boot.

The world won’t come to an end if I leave off the dusting for another day. Writing my memoirs while I still have my memories and the ability to put words and phrases together is much more important. The grandchildren, nephews and nieces are too busy growing up right now to sit still for my old stories.

When they finally slow down, either I or my memories will be gone. So I’m writing them now. It’s my story and I’m sticking to it. If I ever thought painting was exhausting work, it was only because I never took up the pen!

This age, as with every age, will never come again. My grandfather told of the first time he ever saw an electric light in a home. I grew up always knowing of this experience. When I came to Arkansas, I met people not much older than I who spent their childhoods without the benefit of electricity.

Our stories of our lives and those of our ancestors are the sweet and the salt that add the taste and texture to the blandness of our over processed factory made food lives of today. We all see the same media, follow the same news, and eventually get theme fashions to wear on our backs. Even our regional accents are disappearing, along with our regional food preferences.

Will we lose ourselves and our stories by living fast and over processed lives? Will we reduce our stories to #mylife or 140 tweets? Visit me in CORNIE’S KITCHEN. We’ll slow down enough to have a cup of coffee or tea and have a little chat. I feel more like talking today than being busy.

For the recipe pictured above: TRADER CORNIE’S TRACK TRASH SNACK

http://recipes.sparkpeople.com/recipe-detail.asp?recipe=2715397

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About artandicon

Artist, head cook at Cornie's Kitchen, explorer of both the inner and outer worlds, and tree hugger. My paintings are at ARTANDICON: art at the crossroads of life & faith. Every rock, tree, stream & cloud shouts out with the joy of God! I also write a sci-fi spiritual journey blog about Miriam, a time traveling priestess from the planet Didumos, who visits earth when she has an epileptic seizure, and shares my life. Obviously, my own mind was time traveling when I set up my journey blog! https://souljournieswordpress.wordpress.com
Image | This entry was posted in deserts, family, Generations, Health, processed foods, retirement, sharing, Uncategorized, vacation and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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