The last few weeks have been quite stressful. I have a very nice life and so I am not complaining about its downs or stresses. I understand and acknowledge just how lucky I am. So, this isn’t a whine. It’s a celebration.
Circumstances have arisen that afford me almost four days alone. I love alone time. To paraphrase/steal from Ms. Woolf: Everyone needs NOT ONLY a room of one’s own, but a house to one’s self every so often. In addition to the bacchanal with a certain “Dancing With The Stars” pro – which debauchery will pretty much take up, oh, five or ten minutes – I plan to do many wild and crazy things.
For example: thus far this morning I have opened all the windows and turned on the self-cleaning oven. Once that was started I gathered all the towels in the house and started a load of laundry. After which I dusted and polished the furniture. After which I wet mopped all the wood floors with Murphy’s Oil Soap. After which I vacuumed. Then I moved on to the bathroom and scrubbed all the fixtures and then really, REALLY worked on that wood floor. The house smells deliciously clean and the floors are sparkling and the oven is STILL cleaning itself – it takes four and a half hours.
All the while this was going on, I switched back and forth between listening to NPR and Joni Mitchell – who is 70 today. 70. Joni Mitchell.
I am not in the mood to write a long, introspective “remember my twenties” sort of thing today, because I am very busily trying to stay in the moment, but the songs of Joni Mitchell were DEFINITELY the soundtrack of much of my life. I am still reliably moved to tears every time I sing along with “The Last Time I Saw Richard” and “For the Roses” and “Conversation” and … well, enough.
Happy Birthday, Joni Mitchell. Genius. Icon. Lifelong smoker. I’d write more but Derek Hough is on his way over to teach me some rumba moves to a Cher tune – YES HE IS SO. Shut up. And when he’s gone I’m going to start reading through the stack of books and magazines and newspapers I have waiting. Or, clean some more. Or, go to a friend’s for dinner. Or … dance around in my underwear – alone! Going now.