I Live In A Spiderweb

It has been ridiculously long since my last blog post, and I sincerely apologize to anyone who looks forward to them each week. Ever since taking the mammoth leap with moving to college I haven't been updating. Several reasons come to mind, but in the end I know I could have worked around all of them. Hell, I could've even posted on a different day than Wednesday right? But then again, my blog is called Writing Wednesday's, so that would go against it. But it's a thought, anyway!

Well, earlier this morning, when I was brushing my teeth more specifically! I actually came up with an idea for a blog post! So here I sit, typing it out. It feels good to get into my blog again. Honestly, even when I haven't posted anything for three weeks - or is it more? not sure - I'm still thinking about my blog. Especially the flamboyant flower wallpaper! Man, I would kill for that on the white walls of my dorm room. Then it'd really feel like home! Yeah, keep dreaming, sister.

Now you're probably thinking, oh dear, here she goes again, nudging that ever wandering literary train off of its tracks again. But hey, I've proven before that jumping from one topic to the next can be fruitful and even more rewarding than staying on topic! So I'm not going to set this train on its tracks, but frankly, the edges of those said tracks are so worn from constant derailing I doubt the train would even stay on its original coarse to begin with. So really, what's the point? But nevertheless, I had an idea this morning, and I intend to write about it tonight!

So while I was brushing my teeth I had to refill the Dixie cup dispenser I use to rinse my mouth out, and as I was doing so I thought about the Dixie cup dispenser my grandpa has in the upstairs bathroom in his house. He has it there for the same reasons I have mine, which is so that no one person has to use the same cup, and also they are dispensable. Of course once my mind made this connection it happily skipped across that suddenly appearing bridge and bounded through the rest of my grandparent's house. I saw the cramped upstairs bathroom with its robin's-eye-blue walls, its long, narrow interior, outdated heater, single window overlooking the dark red metal roof, the old wooden door that won't quite stay shut. Then I walk outside and see the dark brown/burnt orange carpet. The wobbly balustrade, the low ceiling, the row of short doors leading to small rooms underneath the eves of the roof. I see the bedroom where my mom and I sleep at one end of the hall, and the other room at the opposite end where my dad and brother sleep. I see the antique furniture, the ever-present layer of dust, the quaint beds, the same small lamp, the window overlooking the bluff across the street. I see all these physical things and also memories, memories that will be made again, and memories that are only in the past, like a masterpiece novel being written but the ink only stays visible for an instant, long enough to imprint it on your mind, so long as you remembered it, and touched it with your fingertips now and then to acknowledge it, like an old friend who lives far away, but with a single phone call can bring them right beside you, distance only a figurative thing.

My point is this, when the simple Dixie cup dispenser next to my sink reminded me of the Dixie cup dispenser is my grandparent's bathroom, I wasn't just taken back to that cramped bathroom, but to the entire house, and my grandparent's themselves, as well as many other things branching off from that single connection. Thus is the meaning behind the title of today's blog post. You see, the spider weaving those first few threads of the spiderweb together were like that Dixie cup and my grandparent's house. But as the spider gains speed and feverishly weaves and intertwines the web, forming a solid mass from simple, thin strands that began with a single one, I find that simple connection, isn't simple at all. But a rather complex bridge leading to a land of hollows and crooks, towering mountains and lush forests singing with the rising chorus of a thousand animals. Anything can take us back to such memories, anything at all.

Like the fall-inspired apple cider drink featured at my college's campus coffee shop reminding me of the horse rescue farm I've mentioned a handful of times in my blog previously. Whenever I would go out there to volunteer in the wintertime the owner, Mary-Ellen and I, would enjoy hot apple cider around her blazing wood stove, warming ourselves with conversation and one of the drinks I consider to embody the very essence of fall itself. I thought of buying the apple cider drink right then and there, just in hopes of getting a phantom taste of that sweet, warm liquid I so treasured at the farm. But I stopped myself, wondering if it would taste the same. You see, that's another thing. When we find something that is similar to something we had in the past, it may not measure up, and we may be headed for only disappointment. I know I'll taste Mary-Ellen's cider again, and perhaps I'll wait until then!

There are many other connections I can think of that remind me of many different things. For example, whenever I catch a whiff of a certain smell I am immediately taken back to my great aunt's farm in Upper Michigan. Her house has a distinctive smell that I find instantly calming whenever I step over the threshold. Of course, it could have more to do with the fact that she lives in an old house...in the country...on a farm...on an isolated, quiet, street of road, but knowing me all these things only add up to...the ultimate perfect home! It's no wonder I feel so at ease when visiting her. Thus the connections I find that take me back to that tranquil setting are all the more sweeter. And each connection that we find along the way, and throughout the day, whether it is intentional or unintentional, is meant to be treasured. For if we hold onto it long enough, and cross that bridge with enthusiasm, temporarily leaving our present lives behind, we may step upon the first tentative threads of our own memory spiderweb, and weave along the glistening maze into our minds, laughing as we're immersed in the blissful memories folding and blending into one another like a water color constantly shifted by the tides as it lays at the bottom of the sea. A new picture forming every time you blink, each one more beautiful than the last.