This Maddest Moment

I still remember the day when I decided to decide for myself. It was a Monday, the start of the week. The sun was shining and the sky was an intense blue. However, I can’t recall if it was summer or winter, or somewhere in between. All I know is that Monday and the sun moved me to take charge of my life. I was ready to listen to my ‘secret desires’, none of which is earthshaking, as you will see. They weren’t all secret, but all of them were things I had never proclaimed to want to do. Maybe the sun just looked me in the eye and said, “I dare you.”

I accepted the dare.

Kind of ironic that we think of Blue Monday as a phrase that denotes sadness. (I’ve written about that. Ask me if you’re interested in the story.)

That move to do what I want to do instead of listening to others was so freeing, because now I can do those very things I want to do. I do not listen to the things people tell me I should - or shouldn't - do. It took courage, but that Monday made it possible.

How did I really reach the point of making my own decisions? That's none of anybody's business and you might think I’m rather odd if I told the whole story. It’s best to give the credit to the sun rather than to any person or persons. Plus, I'm certain they'd prefer to remain anonymous. They know what I'm like.

Anyway, here I am, deciding some more, although there are already a lot of great decisions sitting beside me. You might enjoy hearing what they are. I'm going to tell you anyway, since I'm rather proud of myself.

The first thing I’ve decided is that I’m going to paint my house a mustard gold and give it a deep teal trim. The deep mustardy shade is one I imagine to be on market walls in a Tunisian market or places like that I've never actually been to in person, but there are photographs. Teal is the best match, too, all luxurious and silky-looking, great in ceramic tiles. I'm thinking about sticking a few of those up on the house as well.

Actually, I first saw the shade in an artist’s studio in France and never forgot the sensation of being hugged by the walls. Seriously - the walls were probably some sort of rough plaster, but they came out and put their arms around me. I knew I was fitting right in with the tapestries and acrylic paints, pastels, and brushes that were there as well. It's a wonderful color, but definitely not one you see on the exteriors of houses where I live. (Don't ask me where I live. It doesn't matter.) 

If the neighbors protest, I'll probably pretend I don't understand the language they speak. That's payback, because I doubt they understand me as it is.

The next part of my decision-making is not at all strange. Lots of people do it, but I was always afraid of what others would say if I did it. the day after tomorrow, I will dye my hair white, with a diagonal blue stripe. That would match the flag from a certain place I love to visit. My hair is very long, almost to my waist, so that's a lot of whiteness. I don't want platinum, so will need to consult with a hairdresser. The blue has to be just the right shade as well.

I kind of wonder what it will look like if I decide to wear my hair in a long braid or pigtails. The stripe would be out of whack, but still might work. Not sure how wide it should be yet, either. Probably at least three inches, if not more. Off course, that will be my decision and nobody else's.

Travel. Most everybody travels or dreamsabout doing it. I'm no different, so am planning to go to Lake Titicaca again and ride in a boat made of cattails. The only problem is I get sorojchi, altitude sickness, very badly, and will plan better this time. Also this time I want to get over to Bolivia, which has to be a fascinating place, not for the coca but for the art. It would be a good idea to learn Aymara before going, so although I initially had decided to go to Titicaca next week, after the house was painted, it might take longer to get fluent. The decision still stands, however, and I can book my flight and accommodations (not on the cattail boat, you don't need any for those) for a month from now.

Travel is definitely my thing, and I'm also planning to go to Timbuctoo, or however you spell it. First it would be helpful to know if it's a city or a region or a country. Otherwise it might be hard to get the travel agent to book everything. As to the language(s) spoken there, I haven't a cluse. Might need to get cracking on that also, after my return from Bolivia.

I've also always wanted to go to Conchinchina. In Spain they mention it as someplace way far away. So far there don't seem to be any guidebooks on the place, so I'm wondering if people have just been pulling my leg and nobody really knows where it is. Like Gog and Magog, where some of the Amazons lived. Conchinchina might have to go on the back burner for a while, but I'll get there, eventually.

The last place on my list currently is where el diablo perdió su poncho, where the devil lost his poncho, as the Peruvians say. I think I know where that is, even though I'm not even remotely Peruvian. That has to be way up high in the Andes along with Lake Titicaca, so maybe by doing a little homework I can combine that with the trip to Bolivia. I think the diablo lived in more than one country.

If it's hard to get reservations or it ends up that flights are too expensive, maybe I'll just settle for some place out in the boondocks. Those are lots easier to find, especially in the rural state where I live. Might be able to drive there. I could do that next week as well if I weren't going elsewhere. 

Before heading out in the world, there's another home item to tend to. I have decided to remove all the grass in the front yard (and maybe the back, if there's time) and replace it with herbs to see if I would feel like Sarah Orne Jewett. Also, the herbs might keep out the dandelions and other weeds. Not that I dislike dandelions. I've made some great cookies with the flowers and the leaves are good in salads, but neighbors stare at you if you let them run wild. Maybe I should do the back yard with herbs aas well. Here's my herbs list so far, and I plan to go this afternoon to get some of them: oregano, thyme (five kinds), chives, chamomile, pennyroyal, sage, and another one or two I jotted down on a piece of paper that's in the bedroom. Will need at least twent of each, probably. It's a bit of an investment, but the relief of not having to mow the lawn makes it worthwhile. Germain and chervil. Almost forgot.

After traveling, I have decided to start reading and keep going until I’ve finished every book I want to read. Like Scheherezade and her stories, you know her. Only instead of telling stories, I'll be reading them. The only problem is I'm addicted to reading and might have to set a limit on the number. That'll be my decision, of course.

Something else I've been wanting to do I can start now, right this minute. I have decided to wear only black for a year, then only French blue for a year, then maybe black and blue together, whether they match or not. (You don't need to know the reason for that either, but it's nothing I'm ashamed of.) I would also decide never to wear a skirt again, but I never wear them anyway, so it makes no sense to say that. I threw out or donated every skirt I ever owned. They look funny on me.

While we're discussing planting things, I am planning to plant a huge field of woad, in order to dye the above-mentioned blue clothing a nice shade of blue. I don't have a huge field on hand, so that means I would either have to a) rent one; b) buy some land somewhere up the road; or c) move to the sticks. All of these are good options. Woad is sort of like indigo, in case you didn't know, and it can be raised in this state which is a bit farther north than I'd like. In addition to being used for dyeing clothing, it can be used to make house paint or paints and pastels for art. 

I quite like the idea of having tons of woad. It's got a fascinating history. This decision stems from my imaginary trips to Toulouse, France. The only wrench that might be thrown into the monkeyworks is that it might take two years to get a good crop. 

Here's an easier decision: I want to have only five outfits in my closet, not counting scarves. The scarves could be as many as a hundred, but no more than that. A hundred and one are too many. Overkill, as they say. I'm not sure if cowls count as scarves, so will have to consider that. Nevertheless, the idea of a closetful of scarves is very pleasant. Also, two pairs of shoes, no heels, and one pair of boots in case it snows.

Because I'm feeling a bit guilty about doing away with the dandelions, I've decided to paint the basement dandelion yellow. That will make it bright and cheery.  

No, forget that one. It's not worth the time and effort, partly because I kind of feel claustrophobic in basements, unless they get a lot of light. Mine doesn't. I might think about getting better lighting. It might be easier than all that painting, and a lot less messy. It is still very unlikely that I'll spend any time in the basement except to go through some old boxes of correspondence. You know they're old, because nobody corresponds on paper any more.

The next thing I must do is to hang something from my bedroom ceiling. Not sure why I'd want to do that. The cats would probably start jumping and eventually jump high enough to pull it all down. It would be better to stick some of those plastic fluorescent stars. I know cats and you have to be careful around them. Plus, I've been wracking my brain to think what Ii'd like to have hanging there. Guess I should stick with the stars.

Donate 5000 of my books to the local secondhand shop so I can have room for 5000 more. That's half of all I own. It would leave a lot of wall space. The problem lies with the new books I'm not sure if I'd then have to read them or could just sit and look at them. That decision, while great, might not be the best of all those I'm making in my status of newfound freedom. Still, if I can cut back on clothes I can cut back on books. Might try audiobooks or ebooks. Some people like them, but I'm not there yet.

Now here comes one of the most important decisions and it's one I'm going to start tonight, right after supper and a glass of wine or few. I'm going to tell all my exes what I think of them, what I really, really think of them. It won't be that hard, especially after a few bottles of wine, but I deserve it. The telling part, that is. My tongue has scars from biting it. As far as how many exes and how long this might take, that's irrelevant and, frankly, none of your business. If I want to start with little Billy from kindergarten and work my way up to the present, it's my decision. Billy might have been the worst, because he couldn't even learn the names of the colors. He will be hard to locate, I suspect.

While I'm at it, I'll tell my former coworkers the same thing. (Note to self: Make sure you're armed when you do.) It might mean another night, because the exes are going to take a while for sure. I'm so glad to be getting all this off my chest. If anybody's interested, I could record all the conversations. They might make a good book.

I think I have also decided to go back to college and major in Home Economics, if that still exists. I'd consider a double major, and Marine Biology would be my second choice. No good reason, except I like fish.

Forget that. I will take an online course in how to make bobbin lace. Have you ever seen it? Very complicated. You need special threads and... bobbins, of course. Pretty little sticks you can personalize. You need a pillow, some common pins and patterns. Check the internet. Maybe I don't even need a course and can just watch some youtube videos. I feel like I need to make up for lost time, for all the years when other people were making up my mind for me.

I'm getting a bit tired now from all this decision-making. It might be easier to just paint a nice picture. It wouldn't have any people in it because I dislike people in pictures; they ruin the scenery with their fake smiles. When I get out my phone to snap a shot I always try to wait until there are no bodies in it.

I've also decided to write my memoirs. There would be two of them, one about this and one about that. Maybe even three memoirs, the third being about the other thing. Edit them in a single volume. You know what the title of the tryptich would be: This, That, and The Other Thing. Rather catchy, in my opinion.

One last thing I've decided to do, which is something my mother dreamed of doing and never could: I want to build a kitchen and put the house around it. Not sure if that means the house would have to be round or not. A yurt might be fun, though. Not that I've ever been in a yurt, but the name and the outside are cool. I think a yurt is round. I also wish my mother could have done what I'm foing to do.

Now I need to finish this story so I can start a new list. Make more decisions that are mine, nobody else's.

I wouldn't want anybody to think I'm mad. It's really just this sense of independence that has swept me off my feet, don't you think?