A Hoarder Of The Knowledge Of The Existence Of Things

January 15, 2012 by

 [toast with a dash of salted butter, avocado, poached eggs with a dusting of grated Parmesan]

 Morning here was the long and the short of it.  I made like the wee housewife I am and wrangled laundry, cleaned all kitchen surfaces and badgered about the yard a bit tending hens and the such.  The highlight was breakfast.  Boy howdy.  Breakfast was delicious.

I’ve been suffering the most drastic chill, deep in my bones, all day long.  I usually get chilled in November and then finally warm up again in May — it’s most annoying and prevents me from wearing pretty clothing which is a deplorable curse.  To warm up, I went running, I was thinking in slices of poetry as I moved up and across the mountain.  To my ever living frustration, I write my best poems into thin air — everything about me is fluid while crossing the country at a run.  Why does it have to be that way?  Why can’t I light a candle in the living room at night, play some quiet music and weave some words together?  It’s enough to make me snap all my black pens into little pieces of kindling.  At any rate, I came off the mountain and was instantly chilled again, so I whipped up a batch of honey, lemon and fresh ginger root tea which tends to warm me beautifully from the inside out.  I am playing this album while I cook spaghetti to accompany my canned marinara garden sauce for a scrumptious early dinner.  However, what I really wanted to tell you about this afternoon is the fact that I am (mostly infrequently) a hoarder of the knowledge of the existence of things.  It happens most often with books, rarely with anything else.  If I read a book and fall in love with it on a cellular level — to the very marrow of my bones, I tend to not want to share it with anyone.  I want to pretend that I’m the only person on Earth that knows about it and that it was, in fact, written just for me and only me.  It’s hideous and selfish behavior.  I can’t help it,  I can’t.  I think it’s a genetic flaw.  The most recent book I have hoarded the knowledge of the existence of is the collected journals of L. M. Montgomery, volume one.  Yes!  This is the woman who wrote Anne of Green Gables.  My mum (on RW’s side of the family) gave me a copy of these selected journals about two years ago.   I tried to pick the book up on a few different occasions but it didn’t stick with me.  In late November, I picked these journals up for a third time and gosh, did they ever stick!  The timing was finally right.  I loved this book so well that I found myself stalling, I didn’t want to finish!  I read three other books and a fluffy trilogy to put off the ending of Maud’s personal diary but alas, finally, I finished late one night while in the bath.  I closed the book, shut my eyes and submerged myself entirely in my bath water simply to listen to my heartbeat thrum and remind myself that Maud was once alive and real and…oh…I don’t know how to explain it fully but when I read the final page of her journals and shut the book, I felt draped in funeral black.

I felt like I had lost a dear friend.

I know.  You think me silly.  But if you could only read her journals and connect with her, like I did, you might understand.  My only solace is that there are five volumes of her journals to covet, collect and devour.

I think Maud’s collection of journals are a Canadian national treasure.  I cannot recommend them enough.  You know, very well by now, that I am an avid reader of the journals and collected letters of artists, authors and sometimes other mildly famous people.  Journals are wonderfully candid — I feel like I get such an honest feel for creative process, struggles, failures and victories of an individual.  Just wonderful!

Copies of volume one are available here!  Catch them if you can!

Also, read this, if you have a free moment.  It’s an easy skim and it’s a gorgeous breath of fresh air.

And now, I must spaghetti myself.  A bientot!

xx

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Comments

  1. janet says
    January 15, 2012 at 5:11 pm

    it’s disturbing to think of you under the water clad in funeral black… rather ophelia-esque, except she clad in virginal white… sigh.
    most all of my poetry has been composed while walking out of doors. the good ones stick, and when they are fully formed i have but to sit down and allow them to spill out onto the paper. of course, at this point i begin to question them but have promised myself to put them down as they have come to me and not allow the internal critic access to them until much later. it works, actually. i take it as a good sign that your words come to you while running. revisit them on each run until they’ve written themselves into a poem and you just get to be the scribe.
    xoxo

    • The Noisy Plume says
      January 15, 2012 at 5:22 pm

      My gosh. I did a short film called “The Death Of Ophelia” for a high school English class wherein I submerged myself in the Saskatchewan River in early April. It was terrible. The submersion and the film. I rather loved the melodrama of it though. 🙂

      What you have said here about the poems I’m stringing together while I run is very encouraging and of course you are right — they’ll make it onto paper when they’re finished.
      x

      • Michele says
        January 16, 2012 at 11:40 am

        You submerged yourself in the Saskatchewan River in April?!! You must have made your parents crazy!

        I’m starting to worry more about my future adventures/challenges with the children …

        • The Noisy Plume says
          January 16, 2012 at 12:13 pm

          I did!
          It was cold.
          There were little icebergs drifting about.

          By the way, one of the highlights of my Christmas holiday was the impromptu tuba recital at your house! LOVED IT! I’m in the market for a used tuba now. 🙂

  2. Catherine Chandler says
    January 15, 2012 at 5:14 pm

    You beautiful being.
    I have been putting off the ends of books because I love them so much. But, alas, I must finish them so other people can experience them as well.
    I’m very curious about these journals! I haven’t written in mine in far too long. Poor, neglected thing.
    Thank you for sharing!

  3. Desiree Fawn says
    January 15, 2012 at 5:47 pm

    Mmm a lovely post to read as I contemplate how to spend my chilly January evening.

  4. deanna may says
    January 15, 2012 at 7:23 pm

    Have you ever been to Cavendish? You can walk down Lover’s Lane at Green Gables through the woods. They’ve placed little signposts with quotes from her journals about wilderness here and there. It’s lovely to stand in her own woods and read her own words.

    • The Noisy Plume says
      January 16, 2012 at 8:40 am

      I haven’t!
      It’s on the list of things to do though.

      • deanna may says
        January 16, 2012 at 1:18 pm

        I’m not going to lie: it’s pretty touristy. If you have a National Park Pass, it’s free to go, but if not you have to pay admission (and exit through the gift shop, of course).

        However, I loved PEI with all my heart. I’m an Alberta girl with deep roots, and I think I liked PEI best of all the provinces (besides my home). It reminded me of an Alberta by the sea. Little farms, small towns. And I loved wondering the woods with Maud.

        We camped in the National Park outside Cavendish and our tent faced the ocean in all its glory. I’d recommend it to a friend.

  5. debbie says
    January 16, 2012 at 12:46 am

    I feel like I also write my best writing into thin air. It’s incredibly frustrating…you described it perfectly.

  6. pencilfox says
    January 16, 2012 at 2:25 am

    i so know what you mean: my best words come to me when i’m bundled up and out snowshoe’ing in subzero weather, or when i’m riding my bicycle in summer. [much easier to stop and write in summer….pencil and paper in bicycle basket….don’t have to remove 5 layers to get at anything stashed away….]

    GIVE ME YOUR BREAKFAST. NOW. [please.]

    xx

  7. Lizzy says
    January 16, 2012 at 5:33 am

    I will read them. (I will also scrounge up some avocado for breakfast. And run. God you’re inspiring.)

  8. Brandi says
    January 16, 2012 at 7:40 am

    I do not think thee strange, I do the same thing. Though more with places than books. I find a good, quiet, lonely, lovely, secluded spot of earth and I hoard it. I want to believe I’m the first to discover it, and I’m greedy with it.

  9. Kate says
    January 16, 2012 at 9:48 am

    I love hearing about what other people read and connect with, so thank you for the recommendation. I think I can get my hands of this book. (Thanks interlibrary loans!) I find it interesting that you can put off finishing a book you adore. I’m the very opposite. Regardless of wanting a story to go on forever, I just can’t seem put it down!
    By the way, that plate is beautiful, and reminds me of Russia. Not sure why; something about that band of blue conjuring images of ice and tea.

    • The Noisy Plume says
      January 16, 2012 at 12:21 pm

      I’ll only delay the completion of books that I PAINFULLY adore. If I simply adore them, I’ll plough through to the final word. I can’t explain the difference between the two sides of the hair that I just split for you here….except there was, on a personal level, something kind of holy about these journals for me. You might read them and hate them and think to yourself, “Huh? These journals are the pits! Why did that crazy plume girl make such a big deal of them?”

      Perhaps, in part, I read them at a time when I was deeply homesick for Canada? Perhaps her journals took me home. I don’t know. I just found the raw humanity of Maud’s recorded experiences, emotions and thoughts just so beautiful and wonderful and terrible and REAL.

  10. Christina Rosalie says
    January 16, 2012 at 10:38 am

    I am exactly this way. I loved this title and understood what it meant even before I read the post. What is this inclination from? This desire to keep shards of beauty just for our own private hearts? I admit: I felt this way when I first found your blog. I didn’t want to tell another soul just so I could relish your beautiful photos and jewelry and words… 🙂

    • The Noisy Plume says
      January 16, 2012 at 12:24 pm

      Perhaps our little hearts crave unique beauty?
      Perhaps sharing really doesn’t come naturally for most humans!

      And, you put a big smile on my face. Thanks for hoarding me:) I hoarded you too. xx

    • Alicia P. says
      January 16, 2012 at 6:23 pm

      I think, too, it’s kind of like when you take the risk of playing your favorite song for someone else. And they’re all, “Oh, it’s . . . good.” And then . . . you’re all . . . “Hrmmmmm, *nevermind* [harumph].”

      And then, on second thought, you’re like, “You know what, gimmee my song back, fool!”

      Not that that’s ever happened to ME, or anything like that. . . .
      🙂

      • The Noisy Plume says
        January 16, 2012 at 6:50 pm

        HA!
        Totally.
        It’s that too…smart lady:)

        Our tastes in everything are personal! I’m sure that someone here will pick up this book and loathe it and think Maud is a real FREAK……but I don’t care…or perhaps I WOULD care, if someone told me they didn’t care for this book. You’re right. Sometimes, for some weird reason, sharing can be scary.

  11. Piia says
    January 16, 2012 at 11:36 am

    You are silly. In a good way 😉

    xxx

  12. brooke says
    January 16, 2012 at 12:09 pm

    you may like some of these peering at me from my bookshelf, all about women and their writings and solitude. they are ones I re-devour each year. ‘a new kind of country’ by dorothy gilman, and ‘a country year,’ by sue hubbell, ‘plant dreaming deep’ by may sarton (and her ‘journal of a solitude’) and ‘I opened the gate, laughing’ by mayumi oda.

    have you ever explored the marlena de blasi books ~ ‘a thousand days in venice,’ and the others? she is a rich writer.

    thank you for recommending the journals, I’d not heard of them.

    • The Noisy Plume says
      January 16, 2012 at 12:25 pm

      I do know of Dorothy Gilman and Sue Hubbell.
      I’m going to go take a gander at May Sarton and Maumi Oda as well! Thanks for the recommends, you kind woman!

      • brooke says
        January 16, 2012 at 5:39 pm

        I know you have read daybook, have you anne truitt’s other journals, turn and prospect? I have almost every corner turned down because she says something that I didn’t even know I was searching to say.

        I am not a hoarder, I am a sharer of books. If I find an author who unfurls my private inner thought through their words, I want to share them with anyone who might appreciate and be freed by it too.

        • The Noisy Plume says
          January 20, 2012 at 10:39 am

          I’ve read all the Truitt journals and Daybook is the one I most connect with right now. I love Daybook because of the lessons in humanity Anne writes about — I was learning MANY of the same lessons this summer past, and nearly every page I turned held some sort of affirmation for me. I had a sense of solidarity while reading her journals…

          And again, thank you for sharing!

  13. candace morris says
    January 16, 2012 at 2:59 pm

    Dearest me,
    Did you know that pregnant women have to have boring old FULLY COOKED eggs? It’s stupid and I’m tempted to break the rule (just like the rule about soft cheese). I miss poached eggs, which actually only recently started sounding good again.

    I felt similarly when finishing Plath’s journals and letters to her mother. It’s as if I was experiencing the loss all for me instead of for all mankind. I’m still not over it and I miss her steady, droll voice in my head.

    Words come to you while outside, same for me. I think I just try to put a mental picture around them so I will remember them to jot down later. Wouldn’t it be remarkable to have a poetry fairy on your shoulder whilst running? She would furiously scribble all your most inspired thoughts onto her sketch pad for you.

    I owe you ever so many letters. I am just now waking up from this 10 week hibernation. Thank you for your gentle patience.

    xx
    crm

    • The Noisy Plume says
      January 16, 2012 at 4:36 pm

      You preggers people can’t eat anything but baked potatoes. It sounds dismal.

      I’ve missed you. But I’ll wait forever. Get in my mailbox, sometime soon. xx

    • Michele says
      January 17, 2012 at 12:18 pm

      If it helps you to decide, only 1 in every 30,000 eggs is contaminated with salmonella and you can reduce that further if you wash the egg shell before cracking the egg.

  14. MJ says
    January 16, 2012 at 3:03 pm

    Anne of Green Gables has been on my list to read forever, but something else always ends up cutting in line! But after reading your post, I know it will be next, and then the volumes of journals–you have sold me well!!! And I had to laugh about your muse arriving while running. Mine arrives when I drive. I think to myself “really?? NOW?” I realized the other day–record myself!!! With my phone I can voice record, or bring along an old handheld tape recorder in the car. It’s slightly safer than writing wild I drive, right? The sensible thing would be to pull over, but that never seems to happen. By the way, I remember reading another blogger, who’s grandmother was Maud’s neighbor for awhile growing up. She was reminiscing about the stories Maud would tell her grandmother, then just a girl :).

    • MJ says
      January 16, 2012 at 3:03 pm

      oh and that breakfast, w.o.w. :).

      • The Noisy Plume says
        January 16, 2012 at 4:34 pm

        How on earth is it possible that you have not read Anne? There’s a series you know? I think those books are timeless and charming. You need to read them.

        As for recording your ideas while you drive, I tried that once but I hated the sound of my voice on tape and never did a thing with my recorded ponderings except CRINGE! You may really like it though. If I have to write something down while driving, I pull over. OR I scribble while I drive which is a true danger.

        • MJ says
          January 19, 2012 at 10:25 am

          I know I know, I am ashamed to admit it! I’m so ready to fall in love with another series though, could this be it!

  15. Karen says
    January 16, 2012 at 4:20 pm

    I don’t think you’re silly at all….. although, I would say that you -savor- your books, not hoard them, or that’s the way I would describe the way I hold onto something I’m reading.

    I love when you recommend something to read, and I am so very curious about those journals now!!!

    The image of your running as you exhale your poems: lovely!

  16. Jordan says
    January 16, 2012 at 10:37 pm

    The funniest thing is that I was just thinking of Anne of Green Gables today because i was trying to calm everett down in the car by singing to him and one of the songs that came to mind was ‘icecream’ from our Anne of Green Gables musical from Silverwood Heights! And i seem to remember a skinny little blonde girl having somewhat of a lead role….

  17. Hannah says
    January 17, 2012 at 4:15 pm

    Yummy!!!! I can’t wait to trade egg toastie recipes with you (while wearing cowboy boots of course)! I also wonder why my prose juices flow better while I am partially oxygen deprived :), but I thought I would look silly if I was running or skiing with a recorder attached to my hat like head gear!!! PS- Tater is huge and adorable!!

  18. Helen says
    January 18, 2012 at 3:11 pm

    Thanks for the shares! I’m going to heat up on the stove the above-mentioned titles and read me some serious avocado and poached eggs in the very near winter future : ).

  19. miss crowland says
    January 18, 2012 at 6:44 pm

    Seriously, I have been enjoying nearly the exact recipe lately for lunch! My eggs are over easy rather than poached, but it does not get any better.