Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
My grandmother was a dancer, Pavlova asked her to join her troop - she was that good. Unfortunately in 1915, to be on stage was equated with prostitution; her father forbid her to dance and sent her to St. Timothy's Boarding School. Nothing dimmed my grandmother's presence; she was magnetic and great fun. She was also born in the Chinese year of the Rat as is P. (and my brother!)
P. and I let loose the goldfish I brought home - and P. fed them. Then we sat on the deck eating peanuts and crackers. We danced.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
and nanee's back and sillier than ever! P wants to grow up but her nanee is way moving the other way, too much fun making up songs and dancing. P tries to follow me when i do Qi gong. We cooked a Thai meal and took care of babies this morning, then walked up to blue house to play in her more "real" kitchen. There is much more color in my life.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Was spring, still is out the door this evening, 60 degrees, almost 70! Pink came out to the hollar for a walk about, raising some healing energy for Diane if not to our old bones. Not green yet, not like in the photo, but daffodils poking up and crocuses blooming along with the jasmine. Picked some pussy willow branches to force inside. I know it will be cold tomorrow, but how can one shrink from the moving earth.
Well, I'm thinking of expanding the line of greeting cards; back Valentines are fairly tame. The darkness in my soul runs deeper I suspect; in my older days I've become a proponent of Death Panels - real death panels, please. I've always been a fan of NARAL and believe without legalized abortion, too many mother's die prematurely. Now I am wondering if coddling the ill with flowers and balloons is not raising the level of denial - might we dare be more realistic? Hey, statistics seem to agree that if you stay in the hospital long enough, the hospital will kill you by mistake. And then there is the large group of folk who just linger too long; wouldn't it be preferable to chant: die, die, die. Besides there is the fact that the largest costs to Medicare are accumulated in the last days of life. This would give the real warriors something to fight against - and those whose time is apt, the courage to relax and say good-bye. How refreshing to reject the sappy post and to just with a smirk say: "Get out of bed or I'll strangle you." This was my mother's attitude, albeit masked, when I was sick in high school; I only missed one day of school - not ever wanting to be around her nasty attitude which shouted, "this is such an imposition on my time to have to take care of you!" Well, only one day home sick, there were other days my friend Sharon and I went to a movie instead. It's a bummer to be sick - any way to get a laugh on, to drag out of the nausea, the ache, the fever, the pain - is an avenue for the body to heal. I am no doubt in a mood today prompted by what? Fear of what suffering I may have to suffer before getting out of body? Fear I'll be a pain or mental strain to my family? Wanting less suffering in the world and feeling inept at changing any of it! And sorry I am such a bitchy nurse!
Friday, February 18, 2011
This morning Sonrisa is out again, i presume she walks the fence; no other goat is loose. The sun is just beaming over the east ridge and we are about to set out for a walk-about of Red Bud sending healing to friend Diane who is in the hospital after an appendectomy. A rude development after her first round of Chemo for breast cancer. So we're going to walk. I have a song for the doggies now counting down the days til their folks return - I suspect Irie, puli, is beginning to count with me!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
For Uncle Don
turkeys have scratched bare the ground all along the creek
eaten every grub, bug, worm or seed
left open ground for any opportunistic weed;
damn that murder lies within the heart
that we mistake it for a friend
take doppelganger on our boat
heedless of our end.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My friends, oh how they have my number, filled my mailbox with Valentine's day cards from "John." They even got close to his script, but they forgot to misspell every fifth word. I could hardly read I was laughing so hard; the cards were so perfect, a signature alone would have fooled me; but they had to get excessive and I know enjoy themselves so they added touches of pure hilarity: "since your daddy doesn't need me to take care of him anymore, I'm coming "home" to take care of you!" I just hope I can get my imagination sharp enuf for next year!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Cure like with like! Feeling down in the dumps, trip to the dump with the accumulated debris of past month - most of which is junk mail and catalogs - might prove uplifting! One of the goats, Sonrisa, keeps getting out of their yard; just pursued the perimeter and can't find a sure exit, but patched up a few possibilities. Sad about Unc, though I keep reminding myself of his early eccentricities, of his life on his sailboat in the Caribbean (he must have enjoyed much of his life!).
Another beautiful, like spring, day - sun warm, windy. May have to postpone dump until tomorrow when I'll be going that way for qigong; why make an extra trip? Here's a picture of Alaska, one of my furry valentines!
So blustery today, we sat by the green house, the dogs and I, listening to the wind in the trees on Red Bud. The wind threw patterns wildly blending on the pine floor. The dogs find much to bark about.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
I would say that Unc loved his dogs as much, if not more, than my mother loved hers. I always wanted to be reincarnated as one of my mother's dogs. I hope Kuna is with Don, in however way "with" can be, in this or other dimension.
Mindy has an excellent post/meditation on Unc Don on their blog today. I haven't wanted to write that Don is probably dead, murdered; I have tried to steer away from it. But the latest Panama-Guide clearly suggests that Don has been a victim of Javier Martin (panama-guide.com).
Friday, February 11, 2011
Maybe there is a slight wisp of the bleakness that will follow my brother's birth in the look in his eyes. Unlike the birth of my sister and me, my mother was not so engaged in mothering and hired a nurse; my sister and I at 15 were delighted by our little brother and took up mothering. Within my brother's first year, my mother's mother died and my mother developed pericarditis. Under doctor's orders she could not leave her bed for one year. I recall a year of TV dinners and a sister growing more strange. By age 17, my sister was manic at times and excessively preoccupied with her grades and her boy friend. I must have sensed the craziness building in the house and withdrew. My brother was 2 and 1/2 when my sister shot herself; everything changed. I had the luck to go away to college in another year; but my brother grew up in a bleak house of fear and tragedy, with humor that had to be black! It is amazing and wonderful to me that my brother has survived and grown into an endearing man with a dear family and a successful business. The resilience of the human can be amazing or tragic - and just humdrum! more later...
Thursday, February 10, 2011
What fun some old pictures are! In this picture my sister and I are with our mother, her mother and her mother who is in the middle of us all. I think we are on the back steps of 2508 St. Charles. I'm so serious in this pictures. Will post one of Dadz next, enjoying the hunt.
Ezra is flying to Panama tomorrow to file an official report with the authorities there about the disappearance of his Uncle who has been missing along with his sail boat. I am between other things, like composing an obit for Dadz, attempting to imagine Don in a salubrious state under blue skies.
Out there sailing I suppose; or perhaps he is treating everyone at the bar to several rounds. This is a photo from my wedding under one of the oaks in Rivendell in 1968; Dadz commiserating with Bill North, Grampsie's back to us. I knew he'd go soon after I left; I'd thought yesterday. Glad he didn't have to linger any longer. We've got an inch of powdery snow; I am sweeping it off the deck and path. Going to open chickens and hang up a filled bird feeder (the finches are growing more gold!). When I get back to Ocean Springs my brother and I will find a good day to bring Mom's and Dad's ashes out to Horn Island -
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
This is a picture of Rivendell which I took after Katrina, the concrete slab that you can just see on the horizon, is where the pool is. The new owners have cleared the land and cleaned pool. They have chairs set by the pool! They were planting more live oaks the day Ez and I drove down the road; they did cut down all of the tall loblolly pines, which seems a bit radical. But the grounds look fantastic and the couple is lovely. I'll have to find pictures to scan for them as they asked for old pictures of the place.
Skyped Thailand this morning; good to be able to see them.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Dad's friend Stewart is helmsman, dad's checking the sails with his cigar as telltail, mother is scratching her dear lab, Doc. Picture from my brother's wedding 1994. My brother has asked me to come down and I want to be there for him. Dad's not very responsive. Now praying the weather will allow for the trip! Susan is house/animal sitting, a big order. Arriving on the evening of Dad's 90th birthday! Busy today trying to make animals comfortable for several days to cut down on chores - hope Andy, Katy or/& Stefan join her this weekend if she wants company. And I do hope that we don't get any SNOW/ice. just heard from Ezra, he's got a free ticket to Gulfport - going to get a room at one of the casinos so we can watch the super bowl!