I love Smart cars, little Volkswagen Beetles and the sweet little Minis. Yes, I like fuel efficiency and environmental economy… but, the main thing is, I love cities with little cobblestone lanes and streets. And that means big cars are just a nuisance because they don’t share well; they certainly don’t share those sorts of charming little roads with bicycles or pedestrians well. Also, you could park a Smart pretty easily on a crowded road in a country with more relaxed road rules.
Some of you know how I just love whimsy and quirkiness. 🙂 They make me smile. Stumbled on these today and realised that it was World Wide Knit in Public Day, known where I live at the moment as Journée Mondiale du Tricot. I love these wacky “Days Of” that remind me that the rest of the world exists. In parts of Germany, I’ve seen them knit these around trees in cities to protect them from the cold and frost. I thought they were so adorable, these tree-sweaters. And so colourful!
I’m grateful for random and quirky days like these, for they remind me to maintain a sense of humour!
… for the search for the right questions is the first important task, or we’d never get to the best answers for ourselves. I owe two entries! But I don’t want to miss out on the grand finale fun so, I’ll have to write two then. NaPoWriMo to the rescue again (I know these are a little dated, but I’m having fun with them):
Today’s prompt (optional, as always) is a little something I’m calling “Twenty Questions.” The idea is to write a poem in which every sentence, except for the last one, is in the form of a question. That’s it! It can be as long or short as you like. The questions can be deep and philosophical (‘what is the meaning of life?’) or routine and practical (‘are you going to eat that?’). Or both!
Have you ever wondered if you were really capable of love? Are we simply born with different sized hearts? Why did we build a world where vulnerability = exploitability? How did kindness become a weakness, and love a liability? What happens to the tired and the broken? How does love find the shy and soft-spoken? Why is it that those who need love the most, starve most for it? Why is it that those who have everything simply get more of it? How do we know when we’re ready for anything? But, “if you’re not ready for love, how can you be ready for life?” For the un-twinned souls, what does tomorrow bring? When did we split our bodies from our hearts? When we change “too much”, at what point do we part? Why is it so bad to want to die? Who does the judging– the wretched left to cry? Where is meaning found in a fleeting existence? How did we manage to complicate this world this much? Why do we rip fish out of the sea and stick them into walls of cans? How do we make such elaborate things but starve of love in the dark? It’s ironic that the thing we need most can kill us and leave no mark.
I’m going back to one of the first NaPoWriMo quotes, from Day Three, because I think I missed out on the fun of this one:
I challenge you to write a charm – a simple rhyming poem, in the style of a recipe-slash-nursery rhyme. It could be a charm against warts, or against traffic tickets. It could be a charm to bring love, or to bring free pizzas from your local radio station.
A Charm Against Ageing
A needle from a pine tree
A year-old Oreo cookie
UHT milk and freeze-dried spice
Sugar and all things nice
Hair of cat for its nine lives
Honey from Egyptian beehives
Gold from pirates plundered,
(Oh, yes, and E300…)
As these things never grow old
So may I be young, and never turn cold!
Despite having faced many of my fears head-on, I would never have the guts to do this, even though I know it’s probably the precise fear that I should tackle with the same crazy-enthusiasm as I’ve tackled all the others. It’s probably the one fear that could change my life: the fear of embarrassment, of what other people think. They heard the music; they had the moves– so, who cares if those who couldn’t hear the music thought them insane? Who cares? I love how free and happy I felt watching this video– a vicarious sensation, but such a light and lovely one.