|Hot Pink Chocolate Birthday Queen|
|Ione, WA Train Ride|
So in my weekly thrill through the library, I picked up another book on Feng Shui, to inspire more decluttering and to find out what else I could do to feel awesome in my home and to create awesomeness for everyone who enters it, to allow the flow of awesome to come and go and radiate from my little Shinto shrine of awesomenity. And there were some good new ideas in the book. If you feel ugly, clean out your wardrobe. Certainly, clothes that don't fit and yet you feel obligated to wear because they are perfectly good isn't a way to waltz into the world with your head held high. And torn unders can't do much for you either. I purged chipped dishes (that could still be used for small snacks!) and noticed my purse was old and stained (the toll of time creeps in on these daily implements) and gleefully upgraded to shiny and new and 50% off.
Then. Enter the woowoo-ness. The "put an amythist under your bed to protect your marriage" part of the book. I'm paraphrasing here because I flung the thing back to the library, but apparently there's this Five Fingers of Yellow Death that rotates clockwise around your house, taking up 30 degrees for a whole year and if you touch anything in that area, you subject your home, your wealth (such at it is today), your health and that of everyone you come in contact with to grave danger (ooo-ooo-oooo). And then there's the Sergeant of Deadly Arrows who occupies a full 1/2 of your house every year. No remodeling there. The author admits it's a pain in the rear, but she doesn't mess with it. In fact, in order to avoid the Five Ochre Fingers, she removes ALL objects from the 30 active degrees of Jaundiced Death Digits for the entire year and closes it entirely off. Well, I'm sorry, but at that point we'd officially crossed a line from curious brain-food in to total horse-sh**.
Moving on, I decided to shine up our entry, touch up the paint, refresh the front door, etc. In non-woowoo terms, this is so that when we come home, we do not feel we are entering a depressing pit of dilapidation where entropy is out of control. But in order to do that, I would have to sort through a daunting basement closet where the previous owners left veritable pyramids of paint cans. So there, I'd identified a place of clutter that was gumming up the works. So I cleared it out, toted a load of cans to the dump. Unfortunately, I accidentally took the empty can of dining room paint, throwing the baby out with the bathwater, and now I have no idea what that color is. In order to do "touch up" I'll now just have to buy a whole new color and paint the whole damn thing. And that, my friends, is where F*** Shui began.
|homestead grave yard- ooooh-oooh|
Curious about what Feng Shui might say about it, I discovered that the closet I cleaned out was the ONLY space in our house that was in the Five Fingers of Mustard Morbidity this year. According to this book, it was the only place in the house I should not have decluttered, not this year anyhoo. Had the page about these fingers somehow influenced my subconscious? And yet how could my subconscious tear Huck's calf muscle and double charge me for a doctor's visit? Especially since I hadn't really read the whole page or done the math to figure out what segment of my house was under siege? Or was this woowoo-iest version of Feng Shui the real one? Was there really a Colonel of Destruction residing, even now, in chi-form in half my house? Could these Six Fingers really take down our whole family? Could the power of positive thinking, could the LAW OF ATTRACTION counter Feng Shui? Do the five fingers play paper-scissors-rock with Learned Optimism and Abraham and the Hicks? What trumps what?
|Popeye and kids|
You know that discussion about "If I didn't know about Jesus, would I still go to hell?" And the missionary, compassionate and kind, says, "No." And the proverbial Eskimo says, "They why did you tell me?" So that's why I brought the book back.My thoughts are powerful. My imagination more so. And my subconscious supremely so. I need a sign above my door: "Abandon hope all ye who enter here," perhaps? Nah. How about something like "Don't Feed Inhabitants Superstition?"
|Gun safety lessons (plus can shooting) with Opa|