In case you haven’t noticed, I seem to be prone to metaphors. In fact, I can’t bring myself to write a blog unless something in my daily life appears metaphorical to me, causing an epiphany and creating the urge to express it. I haven’t written for a while, and suddenly, yesterday, too metaphors came at once.
One was a poppy blooming in our front yard. I noticed it as I was driving away to visit a school that I’m hoping Joseph could attend next year. One flower, one bit of orange at the top of a spindly, pale poppy plant that has been trying to survive despite inadequate sun and water, and hard soil.
Yes! I thought to myself. I’d been watching that little plant for weeks, hoping it would pull through. And it doesn’t matter that the neighbors have thriving clumps of poppies blooming luxuriously around their yards. Our plant had a lot more to overcome, and it did it! It bloomed! At least a little bit. And I’m not going to expound on the metaphorical significance of that. If you know us, you’ll understand.
The second metaphor came as I was attempting some harpsichord maintenance. You may recall that we have Jean Janzen’s harpsichord in our living room. It’s going to make a performance debut at my student recital on May 16, so it needed a bit of work, at least the replacement of the two strings that were missing. I’d been avoiding that. It felt scary. I don’t know how to fix harpsichords. But I told myself, after all, it’s just a physical object that needs some stuff done to it. I can figure it out. So I looked at how the other strings were attached, and I tried to do the same thing. Then I tuned it, and tried to adjust the little plucking things (plectora, or something like that). I was moderately successful.
Then, feeling happy with my success, I went around the house playfully striking my tuning fork against my knee and holding it up to Julia’s head, Silas’s shoulder, just to be funny. Julia said, “that feels funny,” and Silas, in answer to my comment that I was tuning him, said “I need it.”
I don’t think I need to explain that metaphor any further either.
So, until the next metaphor strikes, that’s it for now.