Make things

I don't know about you but I have various areas in my life that need to be kept in balance - money, family, work, that sort of thing. One of them that I find often takes a back seat is creativity. I need to make things and if I don't that need grows and niggles at me until I do. Sometimes though I am too busy to realise that things are out of balance, I just feel wrong or out of sorts. And just lately that is how I have felt . . .

Updating the look of my soup blog has helped but when I read this by Pherenike it just struck a chord deep within me - this is what I need!

so here goes . . . . I will make something and pass it on to the first five people that comment on this post and agree to the following -



1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I make. Whatcha get is whatcha get.

2. What I create will be just for you, with love.

3. It'll be done this year (2009).

4. I will not give you any clue what it's going to be. It will be something made in the real world and not something cyber. It may be weird or beautiful. Or it may be monstrous and annoying. Heck, I might bake something for you and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!

5. I reserve the right to do something strange.

6. In return, all you need to do is:

7. Post this text on your blog and make 5 things for the first 5 to respond to this.

8. Send your mailing address - after I contact you.

Shopping

Sunday 11am

I like the city. I like it's anonymity. Like a lot of dentists I spend all day talking to people, but underneath there lurks an awkward shyness. I am quite happy with my own company which at work is useful because in between the "hello" and "goodbye" bit the person in front of you cannot talk back past the mouthful of instruments and numbness. And if you wish to be alone there is no better place than the city. You have everything you need all around you but nobody expects you to speak to them. It does have a down side as well - my loneliest times have been in cities, having all those people around just makes the feeling of isolation much worse.

Supermarkets wherever they are are just like a part of the city. You can do all of your shopping, you can read every label and poke and prod things as much as you like and not have to interact with anybody, not even the checkout girl if you do not want to.

But now that Nicola has broken her ankle I am doing more of the shopping. And I have to shop where she shops. And being a country girl she likes to shop the old fashioned way, the way it should be, in real shops. Which here means the farmers market. I'll be buying real food from real people, the ones that actually grow the stuff. It is a good feeling. I might even talk to them as well . . . .




(When I got the farmers market had moved inside for the Winter and I could not get a good photo. So thanks to Nicola for this one.)