the errand days

Monday, April 21, 2014

This weekend was the kind of weekend where you clean the spiderwebs, metaphorically, out of the corners of your home. An errand weekend.

On Saturday we got up and made biscuits for breakfast. I've never actually made biscuits and it was so easy and so satisfying, patting down that floury dough on the kitchen cart and cutting circles out of it. Steele was supposed to go to the studio, but instead we puttered around the house and finally I said, don't go to the studio. Lets go buy plants. So we did. We went and bought some houseplants for our house. And then, believe it or not, we went to the Home Depot and got some wood to fix our dresser drawers. (They were having problems closing.) and at the Home Depot I bought a piece of whiteboard (Which you can buy there! What?) for all of my ideas and lists to become large and in front of me. So then, I mean, we had to run to the Target to buy dry erase makers. And they're hard to find in Target, apparently. So we ran around Target, and also acquired a candle. And then finally, blissfully (for Steele) we left and drove home. 

Man, this is all really boring to write out. But it wasn't boring to do. For as much as I tout the everyday, sometimes I get caught up in it and forget why I'm doing all this: why I'm living the life I'm living, why I care about houseplants and homemade biscuits. Sometimes, a day seems like something to push right through. But it's these silly errand days that remind me that I am building something. That maybe it's rising up so slowly, it's just an idea now, but the ghost frames of my life are appearing before me. It's the errand days that make them a little more solid, a little more real. And one day It'll be a whole framed out house, and then one day, you know, there'll be walls and doors and best of all, windows. 

I especially like the plants. I like to imagine that in 20 years I'll still have these houseplants, but they'll be really big and tall. And that I'll hardly remember what it was like to repot them on the tiny porch, getting my feet and hands muddy in the process. That I'll hardly remember how small they were and how they were so new, once.

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