Category: life

Some days!!! If it’s not one thing…

OK, so it’s not even 8 o’clock on a Monday morning and I have 2 big problems and on top of that, some contractor is up nailing on a roof near by and he started like half an hour ago, argh!

Problem#1: Yesterday I changed my bed and took my mattress cover off so that I could wash it and Yum Yum, the dog, threw up something yellow like curry on the sheet without the mattress cover underneath. Now this wouldn’t be so much of an issue except that I have never slept on this mattress without the mattress cover until last night. There’s not a bump or a tear or a stain on it anywhere. Does this upset me? It’s a small thing right? I think what hurts the most is that I rarely have the mattress cover off of it and then here I am with the mattress cover off and Yum Yum throws up on it!

My lovely… now not so lovely mattress

Problem #2: Well, I don’t think I would be as affected by the mattress thing as I am except that I did a big booboo yesterday, and because of it, I couldn’t sleep. I was out grocery shopping, when I saw a message from Dhillon and thought that he had just called me and I missed his call, but no, it was a message from last week on Wednesday. From the message, I thought he was asking me to go out with him again this week. But, no. Here’s where the problem begins: I called him back and said, Yeah, sure, I’d like to hang out with you again. I’m free on Thursday and then, of course, he acquiesced but he was probably confused. This is cringe worthy. When I thought about it later I realized that no, he hadn’t asked me to hang out again. That was an old voice mail. So, now I’m so embarrassed and I don’t know how to correct it. I want to call him and tell him I made a mistake but then how do I do that? “Oh, sorry Dhillon, I thought you were asking me out this week but you weren’t, so we don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.” That sounds so lame, and it sounds like I invited him out. What would you do?

Oh, yeah. I didn’t sleep last night and here’s another reason why.

Problem #3: I’ve been making raspberry trifles for many years. Issue number one is that I couldn’t find my trifle bowl. OK. That’s OK. Not really but I do have another glass bowl, even though it’s not a trifle bowl and it’s not the right shape, it will do. So as is my custom, I make the trifle the night before. Instead of making the traditional pound cake or angel food cake, I make a vegan pound cake using coconut sugar. It tastes identical except because of the coconut sugar it is a beautiful shade of caramel. OK. I can live with a caramel colored cake and not the pure white of angel food or creamy yellow of pound cake. I can accept this. The vanilla pudding turns out perfect and I mix in the whip cream and the frozen raspberries have thawed and I have the fresh raspberries to add in. I layer the cake, the vanilla cream and whipped cream and berries to make a beautiful trifle. It’s not the traditional shape but again, I can live with that. But then during the night all I can think about is my problem with Dhillon and that the cake is going to dissolve into nothing and I’ll have a crumbly mess instead of a beautifully layered trifle. So, I didn’t sleep at all and I have these problems and it’s Ancel’s party tonight. This wouldn’t be so bad except that at the last family party, I managed to make soupy potato salad. Who makes a soupy potato salad? Too much pickle juice, I think.

Not so pretty

Oh, there’s a problem #4: the handyman bailed on installing my new AC because it weighs 80lbs. and it needs to be hauled up to the 3rd floor. Now what? It’s late July and the temperatures are climbing.

The monster AC

My life right now! I just want to crawl under a rock. I need coffee. ☕😟

I guess I just have to laugh. ☺️

What are You Saying When You Fly the American Flag? Think About It.

Just thinking this morning… as you display the American flag for the 4th of July… contemplate for just a moment about what that flag really represents.

Think about being of a global mentality, not nationalistic, not patriotic, not about building walls to shut people out, not about killing people who are not like you, not about who’s stealing your jobs, not about robbing other people of their natural resources and occupying land that we are not invited into.

Think about, just for a moment, how our country was founded on the usurping of land that was already occupied and the mass murder of First Peoples already living on this continent for our (that’s you, white people) own gain.

Think about the Black people who were brought here as slaves, not paid, not free, not welcomed, not loved, not equal. Thnk about the new Jim Crow. Think about, still, how they are singled out for failure and are still not accepted as equals… equal in anyway.

Think for a moment about your heritage… where your people came from… if you are not native. How did your people get here? Weren’t they immigrants?

Think about our young men and women who have been sacrificed because our military and corporate government commands them to war. Think about the making of more and more disillusioned and suicidal veterans every day, every year, every decade, every century.

Think about how, instead of us being the salvation of the world… a great country that others can look up to, we are becoming more and more feared and hated and becoming a political laughing stock in the world.

Think about how worried you are about corporate greed and the destruction of the environment for economic gain for a few. Think about how hard it is for us to find well paying jobs, affordable housing, affordable health care, a decent and an equitable education for all. Think about the failing infrastructure, not just in your city but, nation-wide.

Think about big pharma and the drugging of America. Think about GMO and the poisoning of our food and water and how we don’t seem to have any control and how our sustenance has been usurped by Monsanto and other large corporate chemical companies.

Think about a lot more as you raise that American flag in the next couple of weeks. Think about whether you are really proud of what we have become. Think about the future of our children and our grand children and future generations. Think about whether we can heal the wounds of the American people inflicted by the wealthy and powerful.

Think about what you might do to change this; change this with your neighbor, your colleagues, your co-workers, your family, your friends… Think about how you might help to open a few eyes, to open a few arms, to open a few hearts.

Think about speaking up when you hear hate talk. Speak up when you see injustice. Speak up when more war is begun and more war continues. Speak up when sick people want to rule America.

Think about what you are saying when you fly that flag. Think about what our flag means to the other… the disenfranchised, those who stand at the end of a loaded weapon held by an American on their own soil… in their own houses, those who are suffering war at our hands. Think about what the other might think that we deserve…

Think about it…

Night Sky, Night Sky

Night sky – night sky

Endless night sky.

Mountains and hills

Holding the glow of the sun

As it falls behind.

Earth that gives rise to life

Feild and sand

Bluff and slope.

Birth dies

Gives rise to life.

I Can Hear Crying

Good morning. I woke by 6:30 with the moon shining in my window. Then shortly, there looked to be an orange ball of flickering fire out my other window. I got up to find that it was the sun. So, I sat for awhile in the moonlight to the west and the sunlight in the east. It was mesmerizing.

Finally I made a cup of coffee. The moon’s light was overwhelmed by the more powerful sun. It’s so warm outside that I can’t feel the air. Not a leaf is stirring. The only sound is an occasional hushed voice and a car going by. The coffee tastes good but it could be better. I’m thankful for so many things but is it possible to have such tremendous heartbreak at the same time?

Right now, in my small room, everything is beautiful… from my furniture and deep carpets to my many art projects. A new day is here.

“I’m so lucky”, I’ve always said. Now, I know that I’m not lucky, I’m privileged. It hurts to think in what misery others are waking up to.

I’m being torn in two. I can’t close my eyes anymore, not even for one brief second. I used to be able to close my eyes most of the time but not anymore. I can hear crying coming out of the earth.

Written in the summer of the year 2019 and I still feel the same.

Does This Alarm You?

I was talking today to another about a conversation I was having with a friend about the meaning of dreams, of spirituality. She thinks that I should not be talking about spirituality because my perspective is not spiritual. She thinks my friend would be better talking to someone who is spiritual. Perhaps she is right.

It’s not that I do not acknowledge spirituality, it’s that I stand there, face to face with it and am not afraid to ask questions of something that, to me, does not exist. Why do I need something to believe in?

I see only the stories made by men. I acknowledge the stories. Yes, I acknowledge that others put faith in them. I can acknowledge the creative beauty of the stories but I also recognize their sinister intentions, their dark, shadow side. I put faith in nothing. I believe in nothing.

This is a great comfort to me… that I can live in this world, with a beating heart and understand, that my courage consists of this: I know, only, that I am. I know nothing for sure, not even that and that is OK for me. I know that I am vulnerable and that I will not be here for long. I know that my existence consists of both joy and sorrow and that I have no control over my experiences and that is terrifying but true.

I will talk to you about anything but know for sure, that I do not live with belief or faith in belief. My perspective might frighten you. You would not be the first to be alarmed.

The Cost of Consciousness

One of the advantages of having a house that is three stories tall is that I can look down on all of the plants in the garden. From my vantage point I can look down on the tops of the dogwood trees that are still blooming. The hummingbirds are feeding this morning from the blossoms. From high up here the entire yard looks green. Yum yum, my sweet dog, is lying in a pool of morning sunshine on the lounge. The water is hot and I’m ready to make my 1st cup of coffee. From high up here, I can almost forget what is happening in the wider world.

The advantage of being older is that I can do what I want when I want without being scheduled. This I love. From this vantage point I can look at my life and see the incredible life it has been. And I can also see what a wonderful life I am living, despite the chaos in the world.

From this vantage point I can also see the disadvantage of living in such a priviledged country. We are living on blood soaked land. We are living this priviledged existence because we are able to militarily overcome all other countries. We are only privileged because other countries have knelt before us at the point of a gun. We are only privileged because we have caused others to fear. People say this is the most wonderful country on Earth. What they don’t understand is that we’ve only been priviledged because we have insisted that others submit to us. We’re only priviledged because we have made it so that others have been brought to their knees.

What I hope for now is that we are being brought to our knees. Our powerful greed and hatred have been our demise. Our “democratic/capitalist experiment” is failing.

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this. It is hard to be the privileged person that I am knowing that my privilege has been bought with blood money. It is hard to be the privileged person that I am knowing that my privilege has cost another’s suffering. It is hard to be the privileged person that I am knowing that the leadership of this country consists of wealthy, hateful warmongers and have always been. It is hard to be so joyful and peaceful and comfortable knowing that the majority serves the minority. But so has it ever been. This dichotomy of feelings is the cost of consciousness.

My privileged life breaks my heart.

Te quiero muchisimo. I love you so much.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

I’ve No Apologies to Make

I’ve done many things in this life, it’s been long. I may have hurt a person or two and maybe it was you,

But I’ve no apologies to make.

I’ve looked death in the face, and while others died, I’ve escaped,

But I’ve no apologies to make.

Lovers I have lost in a maelstrom of words,

But I’ve no apologies to make.

Friends and family left for a time, it was just to find some peace of mind,

But I’ve no apologies to make.

Memories fill my mind and searching my heart, no regret I find,

So, I’ve no apologies to make.

Every Last Thing

Every Last Thing

Every last thing

158,000 will die today.

What memories and secrets do we hold heart-side and in our bodies.

Do we let them bind us? Do we let them flow through, cleansing wounds long neglected.

Let’s find joy in adventures we thought were painful, when in fact they were our wild ride.

How fortunate we are to have these memories that sweep through our souls.

Remembrances of days long past. Let’s look at them, share them, revel in them.

We were and are fully alive. That means all of it.

Every last thing.

I Am Here but Peripheral

I Am Here but Peripheral

I have no importance here. I try to talk to everyone. But no one talks to me. When I join in conversation, I feel their disdain. I have nothing authoritative to say because I am not an expert on anything, they say. Look it up, they say, with a slight sneer contorting their lips.

When I explain that my education and experience and research gives my opinion authority, I am scoffed at.

When I talk I am ignored or am made to feel foolish or am misinterpreted

I sometimes feel loved but that changes moment by moment. I reach out to embrace. I have been told not to embrace. I embrace too much. No one reaches out to embrace me.

No one consults me and if I offer the wrong advice, words chastise me.

No one tells me where they are going nor if they are going.

I don’t feel welcome at the table.

I ask all the wrong questions. Words and looks say I sound stupid. I have been told that my questions are stupid.

Sometimes none of this is true. Sometimes I want to run away.

I am not needed. I am peripheral.

A Cup for Promises.

A bit of love remembered:

I finally retired in October 2014. My sister, Kristi, had retired about a year before me. One day we met for coffee at an intimate cafe in Woodstock to celebrate.

Kristi’s
Mine

We bought these cups as a symbol of our promise to be companions as we aged, to take trips together and maybe even one day to live together. Little did we know that within just two weeks, she would die in a terrible car accident.

Two days ago I was drinking coffee out of my cup and I thought about these promises we made to one another. I wondered if Kristi’s kids had found her cup amongst her things.

I sent them a message and in a short time, I got a message back from Sharon, her oldest daughter, with a photo of the cup saying that she drinks out of it often.

I cried for loss but also for gladness. A girl could not have had a better sister. My memories of her span 64 years, so they are many.

When she was only 3 years old, and I was only 5, I contracted polio, and for the rest of our time together, she did for me what I could not do for myself. She was my confidant. She was my buddy. She was my heart.

I miss her so. When I drink from her promise cup, my heart fills to overflowing. I’m so happy to know that my promise cup to her still exists.