details

Lately I've been picking up on my details in my everyday life. I think I've always been pretty good about this (the writer in me), but lately a couple things have jumped out at me and made me smile.

One: my House on the Rock coffee mug. The House on the Rock is this funky, quirky, spiritual, kitschy, magical, loony home in Wisconsin that you can tour -- it has dolls and hidden doorways, an Infinity Room and cobblestone walkways leading to barbershops with mannequin re-enactments, a mechanical orchestra made of lions, panthers, other creatures of the jungle, all playing instruments once you plunk your coins into the little metal box. I've often thought I'd like to get married at the House. My favorite room is the Carousel room, where hundreds of animals swirl around on the never-stopping carousel with thousands and thousands of Christmas lights glowing all around them, and NOT ONE of the animals is a horse....you'll see a griffin, a pegasus, sea horses and unicorns....Strung above the carousel are dozens and dozens of mannequin-angels, wings strapped onto the old antique women, flowing dresses hanging from their limbs. I've been to the House on the Rock twice, and I love my cup, and the other day I was sipping from it while writing and I noticed a peacock tucked into all the sensory-overload. He faced forward, in that circular part above the creatures you would sit on, and I'd never noticed -- or really taken in, on a conscious level -- that he was there before. You might be thinking, "Cool, a peacock. But what's the big deal?" Well, peacocks have been on my mind a lot, and in other people's dreams that they've shared with me....I've written about some of this. Slowly, this interesting bird has been moving through the cracks and working its way up the ladder of Nathan-Notice. I love that I found a detail in this cup that I hadn't really paused and admired before. It was a brief, wonderful, pure moment.

Two: my mother collects antiques, and in another case of sensory overload, our home is just filled to the brim (coffee cup-like!) with buffets and lamps, picture frames and grandfather clocks, statuettes and silverware and Oriental wall hangings. My description doesn't do it justice; if you've been to the Buck Motor Inn, you know EXACTLY what kind of sensory overload I'm talking about. Over the years, everything has formed a nice, comfortable place in my heart; it feels familiar, and -- at times -- I take it all for granted. Recently I walked by one of Mom's china cabinets, and peeked at the top shelf. Sitting there was something I've noticed time and again but never really put two-and-two together. It's an old wind-up music box, from Germany, and there's an old woman and two children in front of a cottage. I moved closer to the music box and realized....this was totally a scene from Hansel & Gretel! Those children are, indeed, the title of the story, and this woman is the witch/crone/taker of innocence. Hansel is handing her -- hmm, taking from her, I guess -- something that looks like taffy or cinnamon toast (!). She's leaning into him. Gretel hangs back. The cottage, with its sloped, thatched roof, beckons the three of them a touch ominously. Later, I held the music box, dusted it off, tried to get it working (it didn't), and then placed it in my room for the time being. How wonderful to have a depiction of a fairy tale right there, and I've walked by it thousands of times, and for whatever reason my heart went, "Time to notice!", and I did.