You know when it’s late and you turn the lights off and the only thing you can see is this weird greenish black darkness because your eyes haven’t adjusted yet?
That’s what this week was like. Not in the way of total darkness, but more in the way of fumbling around to figure out where all of the furniture is in a room you’d swear you know by heart. One season ended on Friday and a new one began on Saturday and it was kind of like turning the lights off. I didn’t wake up on Saturday morning with a spring in my step and a song in my heart ready to embark upon my bright future, Broadway style.
In the style of real life, I woke up on Saturday morning and made a bomb… completely by accident.
I decided to be a pioneer and clean a glass water bottle using a homemade concoction I made up on the spot. Doesn’t that sound so industrious? Doesn’t that sound like something someone going out into the wilds of Hinterland would do? Of course it does!
So I combined baking soda, salt, and vinegar with a little bit of dish detergent and some water, screwed the cap on, and shook it all up (twice). Then I went upstairs to change out of my pajamas and basically all of you know what happened next.
There was an apocalyptic explosion that loosely resembled fake snow covering every imaginable surface of the kitchen and the surrounding areas. Remember that James Frey book A Million Little Pieces? That book was our kitchen (minus the controversy; this event was, unfortunately, entirely factual). The only remaining portion of the glass water bottle was the metal cap, which had been spewed from the bottle with so much force it cracked the ceiling and bent the metal archway over the sink.
I did not take pictures of the kitchen pre-cleanup because I couldn’t remember my name or anything I learned in 4th grade science, but Jenny had the good sense to document the ceiling damage (probably because she’s planning to attach the photo to my eviction notice).
So there’s that. The bright side, clearly, is that no one was in the kitchen at the time of the explosion. And also I was hoping to clean the kitchen on Saturday morning, so that happened, just with about a thousand times more vigor than anticipated.
And good news! Lots of less-explosive things happened too (and some of them live on Instagram). There was a monarch and a road trip and a treehouse and a big group dinner with the best kind of friends. There were logistics and taxes and invoices and all of the things that come with treading your own small path in a system built for interstate highways.
I think I would have preferred to have had something deeply meaningful to say today, or at least something insightful and funny, but really, my eyes are still adjusting to the dark. So instead of making some sort or proclamation or judgment call on the status of Hinterland, I’m just going to keep writing about it as it happens, accidental bombs and all.
In the theme of Things That Are Not Bombs: There have been a bunch of songs on my mind over the past week or so (some circumstantially relevant, others not so much) and I bet there will be more. So just in case you’re in a similar season and want to sing along, I made a playlist for Hinterland and it lives here.