Do you form whole sentences in your mind as you go about your day.
An essay that runs through your head in a gentle voice as you form and reform commentary. Not like hearing voices. This voice is your own voice, searching for just the right word with just the right sound. A running dialogue as though there is a friend next to you who listens and nods. Yes, yes. I know. And you want to get it just right so they understand.
Do you frame and reframe pictures thinking why did you leave Camera House inside. Taking pictures with your minds shutter. Click. Reframe, tighten, click. Zoom. Tuck. Adjust. Wish I had my camera! Oh I know you all do that!
Do you have a soundtrack that plays in the basement of your mind, often just out of earshot like the whine of a mosquito in the next room but sometimes it escapes through the smudged door of your lips as a hum, and other times as a verse of a song and other times is finished with a shout of “Get behind you useless excuse of a dog! Good Boy Ton Ton. Good boy. Sit Boo Boo …SIT!
I hope it is not only me who does these things.
Do you imagine meeting people you have not seen for years, maybe they are even dead already and then you have ordinary little conversations with them about cabbages or planting trees or cakes or how you both despise pink icing, but there are no sounds only smiles on your lips that someone else may interpret as happiness but really they are just smiles.
Do you look at the sky and see the vapor trails of planes flying so high you cannot hear the engines. Carrying all those little people and all their important dreams and they do not know that you are watching the vapor tail of their plane and you wish that soon it will be you going home. But home is a vapor trail. Nebulous in its whimsical sandcastle construction. Home is not where the heart is, home is where the child was.
Do you ever think what the hell am I going to make for tea tonight. It feels like every single day of my life since I was 15 I have had to decide what to have for dinner, plan it, time it so it is all hot and cooked at the same time and on the table for dinner when someone else wants it. Because I don’t. And then clean up after it. Of course I have not had to cook every night but sometimes it FEELS like it. It is not the cooking that bothers me it is the deciding WHAT to cook. Do you ever think to yourself, if I have to do this one more time I am carting myself off the loony bin. i will make the call. I will wrap myself in the straight jacket. At least they give you four square meals a day there and then you wonder why they are called ‘square’ how can a meal be square. Does it come on a square plate? Is the food arranged in a square? Why four? Are you mad already?
Then you think something else but it is so fleeting that it is gone before you can take a mental note but who reads mental notes anyway. They perch yellowly, stuck to the walls of your brain, fluttering just out of reach. On the tip of your tongue like litmus. And then do you think I better not be thinking idle thoughts, that would be a terrible waste of time. The devil makes work for idle hands and idle thoughts seem like a natural extension.
And you try again to think about what to make for dinner and end up making an apple pie because you have apples. And since the oven is on you make some bread as well.
Do you ever think like that or is it just me. Do you ever wonder, like I do, why my food shots just look like food. They have none of the sharp moody charisma of the real food shots.
Do you ever think about a person then wonder if they are thinking about you?
Do you ever wonder why the males of the species in the animal and bird kingdoms are the most flamboyant and colourful but not in the human kingdom.
Do you ever think in words. Do you dream in colour. I dreamed once that a man gave me a gate. A big wide farm gate. This is an old dream. I walked down a pot holey country road in my city and short skirt carrying a wide green heavy gate. Though in the dream it felt more unwieldy than heavy. 
Askance. That is the word that accompanies your look. You look at me askance, but you see – it is OK not to get it right all the time. It is OK to sit down and think what am I doing. Am I doing it right. Can I do it better. Do I need to bother. It is OK to say – what do you think? It is!
Are you sometimes very tired as the autumn approaches. The time for moving animals off to the abbatoir, the weight of the choices that are mine. Their eyes sit in my eyes. We blink. The time for closing the gardens and windows. Ticking down into our hibernations. Our caves full of wine and tomatoes. The time for counting your stores and laying in the layers, hoping there is enough.
Do you sometimes wish you could undo life’s silver Thought Domes, guiltily clicking the snaps apart with deft fingers, and slide the thinking off for a minute and lay it folded neatly on the chair to breathe on its own for a wee while and then you step out of your thoughts so you can be the light again, just for a moment. In the moment. Just for a moment.
Good morning.
I hope you have a lovely day. I do.
your friend on the farm, celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
133 responses to “Do you ever think in words?”
This resonates so much with me. When I’m driving in particular, I’ll compose articles and letters in my head. I just wish I could vocalise it – but opening my mouth stops the flow!!
Morning Sally, funny how vocalising something makes the words sound different. Maybe we should be talking to ourselves! c
Ah, home is where the child was. Yes. I have a lump in my throat and a strange prickle behind my eyes, remembering the last time I went home. It wasn’t there… it was a stranger’s house and garden and I couldn’t even stop the car to look at it, it hurt so much.
I do think in words, and I do dream in colour, oh yes! I am lucky in that I’ve taught my hubby to cook and he likes it, so even when it is my turn he decides what I’m making. Ahhhhhhh.
I’m also going to consider it a form of luck that I don’t have to experience your heart-heaviness when it comes time to make food out of animals. I would, if I could, but until and if that happens, I’ll be grateful that others like you have to make those hard choices. Thank you.
It is funny – going home – isn’t it. We are such a messy collection of emotions – people \Holding onto images of what we long for. But unable to ever properly retrieve them. c
I can, from a distance. But faced with the reality of what it is ‘now’, all my memories looked dusty. I really realised what is meant by ‘you can’t go home again.’ Best to stay at home, like my husband has, and share all the decades of life and stories and laughter, and him help make more of all three – or leave forever and remember home as it was, those moments forever crystallised as if in amber.
dusty memories! the best kind, I know what you mean.. my mothers favourite stone was amber.. c
I always have a little running commentary going in my head. I like the way that when I write about my days they become something composed, the way that I remember images I have photographed or drawn differently. But the thing that really leapt off the screen for me in this post was cooking meals every day. Deciding is absolutely the worst part. I agonize over it. Conversely, when I have a nice stack of ideas on the back burner I feel safe and secure. It is not unlike garden work for me; sometimes one thing leads to another and it all ticks along nicely. And other times nothing seems to lead anywhere and I feel like I’m just left holding a lot of loose ends. I lived reading this. Thank you!
You are a kindred spirit Siobhan.. holding all those loose ends is how i feel today but tomorrow maybe you and I will have sewn them all back in! c
I sometimes rehearse whole conversations in my head.
I’d like to see more of your food pictures, though we do get to see a lot of cute dinners running around the farm 😉
Most of my food pics are too awful for words, but the light is lower now so they are turning out better. Soon things will be less busy and i am going to really study everyone elses food shots and work out why they are so good. There is something I am missing and i can’t quite put my finger on it. c
My recommendation is to use natural light and make sure it’s in focus.
There are an awful lot of people out there shooting pictures that imitate M&S catalogues – that’s not necessarily a good thing.
Have a look at Tessa Traeger’s food photography for examples of really outstanding work 😉
http://www.tessatraeger.com/
Thank you Mad. and yes to the focus too, I need to use my tripod much more than I do! I shall check out tessa.. thank you.. c
Her work is fantastic, something to aspire to for sure.. beautiful use of light.. c
Yes to all of your questions. But what eloquent words and colorful pictures you’ve used today to take us all on that journey of the mind. My mind is very tired today. But to stop and appreciate those thoughts and those images was a respite. Lovely celi.
I am glad your mind is tired too,i am not so alone in it, maybe we all need to undo the snaps, and hooks and zips and relax our minds a little.. c
Deciding what to make for dinner! Ah! I hate it. My husband has heart disease and diabetes which means no sugar, no fat, no sodium. City folk that we are we buy from the grocery store. Everything has either fat or sugar and TONS. of sodium. Ain’t got no garden neither. Health is EVERYTHING. Plus–and here’s my greatest excuse–I’m Irish.
Celi, what is so so wonderful about you, your life extremely busy, and yet you take the time and EFFORT to share yourself with others. I love the fact that when you look back on your life you can truly say you didn’t waste a minute of it. You were in the moment, every moment. Know this book? WHEREVER YOU GO, THERE YOU ARE by Jon Kabat-Zinn. Well, Celi, you could have written it.
You are Irish! Then you will be able to make anything with potatoes! That’s what my Mum reckoned anyway. Diabetes is such a trial but as you know responds well to a good clean diet. But good clean diets are often repetitive, I remember my Auntie (who had 8 kids) saying Oh how I wish i could just give everyone a pill three times a day.. I did not understand what she meant at the time but I sure do now. Though i am eating fried potatoes for breakfast and loving them! Have you come across those ceramic saucepans yet? You can fry things (like potatoes or eggs) without any butter or grease. This might be useful for the no fat side of that diet. c
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Me too. Yes. Not just you. You are not alone. Yes again. And yes. And yes. More “yes” than you thought. Yes is not enough to say how “yes” the answer is.
I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then!! Have a gorgeous day darling girl. c
As I read all the comments, I see that there are many of us who can relate to the voice in your head. I think that is a big part of what draws us to your blog. I, too, have a notepad beside my bed and have learned how to write on it in the dark so that I don’t write one thing on top of another. Until now, I thought I was completely alone in that. Thank you for taking the time each day to share your inner voice, and the beautiful photos of a life well lived. Even on the most difficult days, it is an inspiration.
Good morning barb, This then is what makes us a Fellowship. Like minded people have collected here in the comments lounge.. it is like a little bit of magic really.
I just wrote a long and lengthy post hit enter to realize I had lost the internet and everything disappeared into the ether never to be seen again!
Anyway I was congratulating you on a very profound post and saying that from the replies you can see you are not alone with your internal commentary! As for holding conversations with someone that may or may not be around any more, do it all the time with my Dad, both silently and out loud. He died 18 years ago in my arms, very sudden and he was only 69. Miss him so much. However our ‘conversations’ are never sad, in fact sometimes I laugh quite loudly as I now having the same sense of humour he would see the same fun in the things I do! He is the reason I love the earth and gardening. Also he came from a very simple background, his family being coal miners, but had a share mind and knew so many things. He would get 5 library books out every fortnight, 2 fiction and 3 non fiction. So I get his love of wards too. In fact I cant count how many times my Mum has said (in a nice way) “you are just like your father”, which makes my day!
As for meal times, I am now living on my own for the first time in my life so meal times are very different. Yes I can eat what I want, when I want or not at all, that is the plus side. But I miss the company around the diner table, and making special meals for a special person.
Doesn’t that bite when you write something and the cosmos gobbles it up. But your words about your father are so lovely. They ring so true. I know about living alone. We develop little coping ways. I am reminded of a joke if you can bear with me! I hope I have not told you this one. (I am paraphrasing) “A man walks into a restaurant. He holds one finger up to the Maitre d’. A table for one it is understood. The rather distinguished Maitre d’ reaches for one menu and turns to look into the restaurant then back to the man. Well sir, he says, I have a table by the bar, a table by the palm tree, or would Sir prefer a corner in the kitchen where he can dine standing at the counter looking out the window?”
That always made me laugh. I used to do exactly that when I was by myself. I either stood and ate or sat at the table with a book held open with the salt shaker. Like you I was alone a lot in those days,and also like you I was never lonely. But i did enjoy cooking for company! c
LOL oh that sounds so much like me – book (or Kindle) propped up on the salt shaker!! At least with my animals my thoughts voiced out loud can be said to be directed at them, so it doesn’t look like I am talking to myself!!
true enough!! c
Oh, yes! I have cried when I had to send those little animals to the locker plant…it would always, and it still will, break my heart. So I would love them and tell them good-bye and whisper in their ears how much I appreciate all they do for me. And then wish them well with a pet and sometimes a kiss on the nose.
It is hard, I so understand.
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
http://deltacountyhistoricalsociety.wordpress.com
I am so glad that you understand and that feeling bad is ok. i know it is the way of these things .. we are strong of heart but we will never be hard of heart.. have a lovely day Linda.. c
“Are you sometimes very tired as the autumn approaches. The time for moving animals off to the abbatoir, the weight of the choices that are mine. Their eyes sit in my eyes. We blink.”
“Askance. That is the word that accompanies your look. You look at me askance, but you see – it is OK not to get it right all the time. It is OK to sit down and think what am I doing. Am I doing it right. Can I do it better. Do I need to bother. It is OK to say – what do you think? It is!”
OK . . . here’s what I think.
I could NOT do what you do. Raising animals for food makes no sense to me. If your heart is heavy at the idea of taking your animals to the abbatoir . . . maybe your heart is telling you that you are “not doing it right”?
“If a man aspires towards a righteous life, his first act of abstinence is from injury to animals.” ~ Albert Einstein
“Life is life ~ whether in a cat, or dog, or man. The idea of difference is a human conception for man’s own advantage.” ~ Sri Aurobindo
The fact that you call it an abbatoir, instead of a slaughterhouse, might also be a clue that you need to reconsider your farming practices:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slaughterhouse
Thank you Nancy. We take our animals to a very small abbatoir that only deals with a few animals a day, it is a very clean and decent place run by good people. If I were not farming I would not be here. But I do take your point.. I do hope you have a lovely day.. c
1. Being a “farmer” is not synonymous with raising animals for food.
I know lots of farmers who don’t have animals to care for. Instead, of raising chickens and pigs and cows for slaughter, they grow fruits, veggies, grains, nuts, seeds, berries, herbs. As an added bonus: during the winter months, they don’t have to slog through the ice and snow at 4 am to care for animals in the barn. Instead they sit inside, fireside, to plan their gardens and wait for spring to warm up the soil for planting.
2. I had to laugh at Lyn’s defense of your practices:
“You have to eat, and whilst I respect those that believe Vegan, or vegetarian is right for them, we are omnivores and have manged to outlive most other species of animals because of this.”
I expect that we have “managed to outlive most other species of animals” for reasons far afield from the fact that some humans choose to be omnivores rather than adopting a vegetarian or vegan diet ~ habitat destruction, deforestation, recreational hunting, pollution, etc., all spring to mind.
3. Since you have chosen to raise animals to kill them, I’m glad that you slaughter them as humanely as possible.
Do listen to your heart if it asks you to make changes. Consistency is over-rated.
Nancy, What i think is most important about the Comments Lounge is that people feel free to expound their own thoughtful and intelligent ideas and their processes and ways of doing things. And I am so grateful that you have joined in with your ideals. We are all different and that is lovely. And i respect all opinions, we all come from different backgrounds and cultures and it makes us no better than each other only different. I like that. And the wonderful thing is that we can all get together and exchange these ideas in an intelligent and thoughtful discussion right here so that we all have plenty to think about and can nod and say thank you. So once again, thank you for wading in. Have a lovely Sunday. c
Right back atcha! Have a farm-tastic day! 😀
Yes, I am a words person. The whole visual thing is new to me – you, and other bloggers, have encouraged me to see differently and for this I love you!
And you are surrounded in such colour! c
You opened the flood gates. You lifted the veil. You uncovered the secret door to the mind. You unleashed thoughts we had tied down. Hidden away. Scribbled black over the words we thought we had forgotten. Then you shook the book hard and tumbled out words we have never spoken., You released time rusted memories. You did the brave, remarkable, unspeakable. You shared your unspoken fragile stories strung together like pearls. You wear them proudly and gave others the strength to do the same. V.
Good morning Virginia, I don’t mean to shake things up. I just puddle along. have a lovely day.. c
Celi you are doing the right thing with your animals, and don’t let anyones comments tell you different!! You have to eat, and whilst I respect those that believe Vegan, or vegetarian is right for them, we are omnivores and have manged to outlive most other species of animals because of this. I believe nothing truly ever dies, because the box we are walking around here at this precise moment is not who we are – we are more than that and so are animals. So we/they shed the outer trappings, which are used either by others or the earth itself to keep the circle going, but the spirit lives on!! And happy spirits they are that have been raised and cared for by you!!
Thank you Lyn. I do believe that if I gleefully or thoughtlessly sent my animals out then the cycle of care and goodness would be broken. If I were to stop farming then my whole lifestyle would stop.. and I would go back to living in a little house in the middle of a corn field waiting for my husband to come home from work. c
The garden listens
Even the leaves stirred by light
Strain green ears to you
🙂 x
What beautiful healing words.. have a beautiful day veronica. c