palace of winds

This is how it works: Comment on this entry and I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter in your journal, including an explanation what the word means to you and why, and then pass out letters to those who want to play along.

I was given F! And like Sarah, rather than having trouble coming up with ten things I had trouble limiting it to ten. So I just went with the first that popped into my head.

1. Fairytales – I’ve always liked fairytales, fables, myths. There is a section in my book-shelving system just for books of and about fairytales. Often when I am struck with the odd impulse to write I turn to the classic stories and wait for the characters to whisper their secret other lives to me. And of course there is our fairytale, Sarah‘s and mine, which I hardly ever talk about except with her because I have this weird fear that speaking it aloud will jinx it or scare it away (though I suppose after all this time and it only being more firmly lodged in my head there’s no fear of that; still, I have a deep superstitious aversion to talking about anything I’m thinking of writing).
2. Fragrance – I love the smells of things. Not typical perfume; people who bathe in too much of that make me cringe (and usually flee). But I love natural smells — dirt and rainstorms and green growing things. I’m as liable to stick my nose in a hedge as a flowerbush. Horses, god. God. A barn and that broad warm neck. I love the smell of books; I can’t pick one up, new or old, without opening it to smell down near the spine. Wood. Paint. Sweet clean skin. BPAL. Ripe fruit. On second thought, I’ll stop there; I could go on forever, especially if I let myself stray into food. Or clean laundry. Or — yeah.
3. Fall – Autumn is one of my first thoughts whenever I entertain the notion of moving. I would miss fall. Trees gone a riot of red-orange-yellow, flaming briefly brilliant. Everything crisp, the air sharp and cool, brisk about the business of putting all to sleep for another season. The smell of clean decay. Nightfires. Just needing jeans and thick sweaters, a hat or scarf. Kicking through heaps of dry leaves. The world feeling dark and secret, nights crackling magic. The sun over the end of wide Ferndale with its bordering of trees so orange-leaved they seem alight from within — the breathless beauty of it for those brief weeks. Hot cider and the best of the apple harvest.
4. The Firm – The Firm is a system combining aerobics and strength training; I have the Transfirmer, a set of two steps that can be variously stacked and inclined to kick my ass, and a handful of dvds (which also kick my ass, but are most useful when played rather than stacked or inclined). It’s been over a year now since I started working out with the Firm, and I love it. I love the post-workout euphoria. The healthy exhaustion; that heavy well-worked feeling. I love feeling strong and accomplished. I’m proud. I almost never let myself say it, but damned if I haven’t put in my time and earned this.
5. Firefly – When Firefly first aired I didn’t watch it; I had enough on my plate, and I was bitter at Joss and his little punk ass for abandoning Buffy after making me love it so damned much. And then I got a subscription to Blockbuster online and remembered how much Jeremy had always said the show rocked and thought heck, might as well give it a shot. (Yes, I thought ‘heck’. I’m Minnesotan, shut up. [And you know, one of the best compliments I've gotten in a while was someone asking if I'm a Quaker. Totally flattered.]) Anyway. Instalove, of course. I imagine Joss like King Midas, everything turning to gold in his wake. Only we’re the ones left bereft and starving when he frolics on to some other project. (Or when UPN gets its head lodged up — okay, okay, letting it go.) The show and movie are both wonderful; the characters beautifully imagined and executed, and the story growing up around the interaction of characters rather than the other way around, which is how Joss always does it and how I like it best.
6. Foxes – I love the keen faces of foxes. Their slim sly feet. (In fact, when my sister and I were girls we collected these tiny rubber animals, about fingernail-sized. There was this little shop we’d go into that had a big bin of them, and it was a particular treat for us to go in and pick one out. In retrospect it was very smart on my mom’s part to make it an occasional treat because the process was very elaborate [and so very long] — we had to go meticulously through the entire bin before we could make a choice, and we of course couldn’t ever have the same animal, and we had to make sure the new selection would fit in properly with the existing herd. When we played with them at home they most typically would be going on long perilous journies through the house, which involved them being strung out in a very long line which was then shifted carefully through imagined snowstorms and across raging rivers and over the enormous mountains of furniture. The two lone fish usually got left at home, because they couldn’t very well trek cross-country with the rest. Um. All of which is beside the point — the point being the leader of my herd of rubber animals [and my secret favorite; one could never admit to favorites aloud in case the rest got jealous] was a little fox named Sly.) Of late my dream dog is a small-medium size with fox ears and that sharp-looking face.
7. Fantasies – I love wild impossibilities. Daydreams. Ideas that are so huge or silly or sudden there’s no pressure to take them seriously, to plan, no taint of practicality. There’s a wonderful freedom to them. I’m often very serious about things, too serious sometimes I think, too intent, an over-planner, so I especially like the times I can set that all aside. When things can be vague and futureless.
8. Fennel seeds – Oh so wonderful, both the fragrance and taste. Whole or ground. Delicious also eaten straight out of hand.
9. Forms – I work with them so much and yeah, sometimes they get tedious, but some of my favorite times at work are being in a groove with them. I get a lot of satisfaction out of all sorts of organization, and a form that’s well-designed and filled out precisely is delightful. I love the few clients who take the time to fill them out correctly, and I love the clients who know themselves better than to try. (I love much less the clients who fill them out incorrectly because they can’t be arsed to read the barest of instructions; salvages are messy.) If I’m feeling a little frazzled or crabby I love being left alone with some forms to finish filling out; the monotony and preciseness is soothing. I like knowing someone down the line will be able to process them quickly and efficiently.
10. Florence – There are some parts of my first trip to Italy that I don’t like remembering; I have regrets, and so when I think of Florence it is first with a pang of guilt that I didn’t enjoy it more fully. But overall we had a wonderful time, and after a moment the good things come. The view over the sea of red roofs. Little cafes. Street merchants rolling up their wares and scattering in an instant as a lookout dashes through warning of police. The smooth creamy cool taste of gelatto on a heavy hot afternoon. Cats drowsing on every buildingtop.