Hello friends,
I had to turn the heat back on. I know it’s not nearly as frigid here in Florida as in other parts of the U.S. being blasted by snow, but Florida's cold is unique. It comes and goes, often bringing swings of ten or twenty degrees within the same day. There’s no time to adjust. The chill leaves you just long enough for warm relief to creep in. Then it returns like a gut punch, one that numbs your fingers and toes and says, Don’t get too comfortable.
At night, I curl up under my comforter and listen to the wind. My cat, Nyx, curls up in the C of my body. We lend each other our heat. Our breathing syncs. With heavy eyelids, I watch the endless dance of light and shadow that my lava lamp throws on the ceiling. Spotify plays quietly as a complement to the wind. I save the songs I want to listen to later. I wonder if they’ll sound the same when the wind is gone and the lights are on.
Old towel. Bowl of water. Whetstones of varying grits. Truing stone. Double-sided paddle strop. My aunt’s dull knives that have probably never been sharpened. Find the angle. Back and forth. Back and forth. The steady scraping of steel on stone becomes TV static in my ears. Splash of water. Back and forth. Back and forth. I don’t know how much time has passed. All I know is I have four sharp knives and a sense of peace.
There’s something special about watching sports live. For a few hours, you and the tens of thousands of people around you become one organism. You all hold your breath when things get tense. You moan and groan when the other team scores. You scream with one voice when your team makes a comeback. You buy beer that’s too expensive and stand in bathroom lines that are too long, but you make friends when you do. You forget, for a while, all the bullshit of the world because here, for a moment, it doesn’t matter.
I start a new book and instantly become lost in its snowy desolation. Words on a page never cease to amaze me. Ink and paper combine to form life, to create a universe where you are simultaneously a guest and a native. The scent and feel of the pages transport me into this and every other narrative world I’ve ever inhabited. I am here but not here. I am there, even though there doesn’t really exist. I am myself, and I am all the characters that sprung from someone else’s mind. I turn the page and continue.
Until next time,
Yardena
WEEKEND POTPOURRI:
Currently on repeat:
Kayti Christian, who writes the beautiful newsletter Feelings Not Aside, shared some poignant words about grief. She also wrote a lovely look back on her year, arranged by seasons.
Serotonin boost: A young capybara walking slowly through water at a zoo
A poem: “Today” by Victoria Chang. If you enjoy reading Thirty-One every week, you’ll like this one.
The LSU dance team absolutely crushed their performance of “Are You That Somebody” by Aaliyah at the College Dance Team National Championship.