“And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made.”
“And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made.”—Yeats
Tonight, I made a root beer float because this morning at last I realized what I am all about, what I have always been about. A higher power placed me here to be a maker.
First, I love making plans. I make plans of plans I want to make. In winter I dream of roses to plant. I make plans for vacations, landscapes, the day’s activities, the bills I’ll pay in seventeen months, my supper three days hence. When I make plans, I gaze out of windows and have great fun in my head. As Yeats might say, I could “arise and go now,” and go to the realm of mental plans forever, never to return.
I love making thought-structures: I make English courses in my mind, and I consider th
