02-02-2020

Yesterday I joined several friends from qigong class at the Riner Fire Department's oyster and turkey dinner. We had wine and appetizers at Jill B's first, in her wonderful newly renovated open kitchen. But as good as the fried oysters were (not nearly as tasty as Gulf oysters), Ezra's photo posts from Vietnam of the delicious meals he is enjoying, unintentionally mock my taste of seafood here in the winter mountains! Do wish there was a good Vietnamese restaurant here, I would love some Pho. I think I need to try to make some (buy some pasture raised beef and/or buffalo bones). 

Had to post an ocean photograph, tide out. The shadow of the palms striking; the clouds handsome - and my grands making a perfect scene. Miss them! True has survived the first week of the cast on his left arm; he fell at school from a jungle gym. Doctor said no soccer - and, of course, no swimming/ surfing. 

Had a very delicious dinner at Ann's, her Christmas gift to Web+. We began with a gin and grapefruit/lime juice cocktail (probably another ingredient i am forgetting) and cheese, seated in front of a fire in her great room. Diane and Susan had picked up Pat (they had given her a message first!). What energetic conversations at the table, recounting tales of our children, eating an appetizer of stuffed portobello. A main course of deliciously tender roast beef with a spinach sauce, roasted potatoes and Kathy's brussels sprouts. Ann even made a flourless chocolate cake and we shared gifts. Although Pat is using a walker, she is driving and looks very good. She does have to have surgery soon to remove the metal rod in her leg - she is not looking forward to that. Oh a dear wonderful evening. 

What became of January

I left out January because in January I had flu, and the Arctic temperatures prompted a hibernation. It was so cold that the heat pump working all day could not raise the heat in house to 62. I slept and when necessary bundled up (3 hats, etc) to open and then close the chickens. Having to bring out the tea pot of boiling water to break up the ice in their water basin. Alma seems to have caught flu at nearly same time; she had the flu shot (which has proven nearly useless this year) while I did not (but I did have remedies which helped). Hardly went out for two weeks, just to avoid spreading flu to others. I couldn't visit Meghan as I couldn't risk giving her flu. This late fall she was diagnosed with 4th stage cancer of unknown origin, having ended up in ER with fluid surrounding heart. Meghan was just 60 last year and last year nursed Carol thru treatments for uterine cancer. Meghan wanted to fight her diagnosis as Carol had, the doctor ordered a chemo treatment which poisoned her nearly to death. Her legs swelled and oozed, she could hardly walk and the fluid began to fill her lungs quicker and quicker. She spent almost 2 weeks in the CCU in Roanoke, now diagnosed with CHF and 4th stage lung cancer. I went by to see her before I left for Dominican Republic, sensing I might not see her again. Carol took my note and eggs, but Meg was sleeping. She died on January 30, rode out on a giant blue moon.

Tomorrow about 5 AM I'll turn 72

It is big into spring here. Baldwin tilled in my garden and I planted potatoes - pouring some water with silica onto each potato, hoping to combat the potato fungus which has devastated my crop for the last several years. Need to research some other possible remedies. Garden is coming along, the weather unusually warm so soon in April. I have beets sprouting up and needing thinning along with greens.
Somehow 72 doesn't seem as old as 70, 6 x 12, year of the Rooster returns.

"I'll Miss Me," she said

Ruminating on walk up to collect the mail, what I was trying to say in my last post talking about Susan's videos, was that the video prompted me to see myself as another might, as a sister, or dear friend might and to realize that I am my closest friend. We might treat ourselves better, well, those of us who tend towards obsessive self-criticism. There was a Hospice patient who said something I will never forget: "I will miss me." I think I am beginning to understand her words, now having lived at least fifteen years beyond her age when she died. I guess one inherits bad practices; my mother, for instance, hardly appreciated anything about herself - and then my father killed himself and my twin sister so detested herself that she, too, killed herself. Not much to boost ones confidence. I suppose I feel fairly good about me, at least I haven't snuffed me out. And I do enjoy my company; I even like the things I like to eat.  Well, it took me awhile to figure out what I like to eat after having cooked what my husband liked for years. But Susan's video caused me to see me as a likable being! 

Sixty degrees, really!

If the sun would keep its perfect face in the picture, the day would be even more amazing. Nevertheless, dogs and I have made our way thru the slick parts up the road this morning to put mail in box and just returned from a trip to swimming hole. Still fueled by Thursday's party for Diane and thinking over stories shared and tasting again Chris's lemon curd cake (of my, so good). I keep reflecting on the wonderful photographs Susan collected and made into a video for Diane - how fleeting can a life seem and at the same time how rich and full. Susan has made videos for each of us, and I was amazed at how I could look at my video and like myself - when in body, I don't seem ever to stand back and look at me as I would a friend. But, who is this person, me, if not a friend? And I felt empathy for this person. It was quite a gift from Susan. 

leaving on a jet plane..

Below sea level

step on a crack, break your mother's back

I walk carefully to Dr. Thompson's office

in an ugly one story building

with a garage that flooded in the least New Orleans deluge

my mind fixed on a boy friend who lived nearby,

not on talking to a psychiatrist.

My mother catching me before I left,

wanting to know what I talked about;

I didn't tell her that the subject was her.

There was aching demanding silence

in his office filled with books,

I made up dreams to fill the space

that moaned inside. I know I lied

and tried hard not to say, fucking shit

or that I wished to die.

4/4/14

mhnorth

wanting to post something before I left! Had a wonderful day with rain storms and soccer between; for once I tied P. at soccer on the front lawn! Played so hard I fell on top of her - well, caught myself - but barely. flying to the Gulf coast to drive with good old friend to Houston to baby sit Fia while her parents take their first trip alone since her birth. When I began to pack, my dog, mr. lee, turned his eyes big and cruel with anticipated sorrow at me - it's hard enough to leave the spring hollow with out that look. I'm old and attached and comfortable, it is just such an effort! 

summoning the last year of my 60s

OK, I suppose I am ready for this; a friend is telling people she's 70 before she's 68 - I thought of that. Decided to wait it out. The most challenging part of my 60s so far has been combating my urge to stay home and forgo travel. That and figuring out what to wear, or what you can wear, or how to abort the urge to dress in dots and stripes like my grand-daughter who has by far the most fun wardrobe of anyone. Come to think of it there are other challenges, such as deciding on a new computer - the decision  is made more difficult because the longer one waits the better the technology. Why decide? Well, because I want to preempt the possible slow down of my present model (don't want to jinx anything).
Several people have told me that coffee has been shown to stop the growth of melanomas; one person, with a PHD in biology, claims that can't be decaffeinated. So I made an espresso this morning - got a lot of work done in the garden! Even sanded and painted two metal deck tables I've meant to get to for a year!  Pruned the red buds, weeded - spread hay in the garden between the beds. Even found a dress that i could wear to Trinidad wedding if I can't find something new - that was a desperate matter. There should be a loan-outfit-for-wedding shop - especially for over 50 year olds.

  

Irie's in the sky

The last puli in the hollow has gone on to where all good dear dogs pass and we miss her. Irie or E-ya lived the longest of all the pulik and even survived cancer in spite of being OCD  and having a rock fetish. She was my first grand child! Just crazy sad is what the state is of missing dog. I am bereft.
Mr Lee and I circumabulated Red Bud in Irie's honor; I kicked a few rocks on the narrow path in remembrance. It was my first hike about the mountain this fall, since the underbrush has allowed for an easy ascent.  We have now many more dogs buried than alive and this place such a fine spot for dog. The ticks, however, are making a dog's and, for that matter, a human's life a bit more difficult. Doesn't stop me from the land walk. I want to like, Irie, walk to the river the day before I die!

the North Fund

My assignment is to find a picture to send Lexi at the Community Foundation which represents the North Fund. I am blank. So I am looking thru my pictures for something which might trap my imagination! With "Heavy Boots" and P.
or maybe this:

 Mostly the fund is my attempt to try to lighten the difficult load that single moms have, especially minority low income moms or fathers. This year we were able to help fund grants to the Hensel Eckman YMCA, It's All About Jesus Ministries Outreach and Help Center, Montgomery-Floyd Regional Library, Planned Parenthood Health Systems, and the Women's Resource Center! I do feel good being able to help, especially agencies which helped me when I was a single mom such at Planned Parenthood. I don't know much about the YMCA in Pulaski, but the grant is for their low to moderate income child care assistance program. I suspect that my cousin Emmy who no doubt occasionally prays for me (being her pagan cousin) influenced my choice in helping the All About Jesus ministries - they help lots of folk in Radford! The library was seeking a grant for their oral history projects. I really must credit my grandmothers and my mother for enabling me to give to my community.

John

John died Saturday, June 23.

He wanted to hug and touch. I grew tired of that. I wanted compliments and talk. Twenty years we lived together, though the last five were more convenience than couple, longer a pair than we'd been with any others. My old farm house thrived, we built a studio and a shop. I stopped smoking 17 years ago egged on in part by his "old people can't stop!" He never did and it slowly conspired to bring him down. 
We split over care for my father. John moved to Ocean Springs without my input. It was past time to split, he was right. And it seemed a good plan for my dad, only John grew very ill, hardly able to leave his room. My father died; John has suffered over a year longer - fortunately under the dear care of his daughters. 
I learned how to kill a chicken. I learned about building from footers to roof beams. I learned to abide pintos and mashed potatoes in stead of red beans and rice. I grew fond of butter milk poured over corn bread. But I never liked his Thanksgiving stuffing! 
Enough, I want to go work in the garden before it grows too warm; I will come back to this! 
Walked to the swimming hole thinking of wild mushrooms, thinking of the fun John and I had in the fall looking for mushrooms. Found what I call a "red hairy", suillus pictus", and marked the spot so that I would find it on the way home. Walking home I found another and Baldwin found another - so I've a celebration dinner in John's memory tonight.

Furthermore, John set the standard for blackberry picking; I can see him in a flannel shirt, his old work pants, belt around his neck with a bucket cut from a milk jug - setting out early in the morning for the bottoms. He had pretty good nerves, drove a dynamite truck all over West Virginia for the mines (lots of two lane roads which consisted of one center paved lane and fairly wide gravel shoulders). I must have grown more volatile than dynamite. 

John could sit in a chair in the shade of a tree with his shot gun waiting for the ground hog to show. He was an amazing shot. He shot a wounded deer in the river, in the fog. Baldwin had run home to tell us that he had just been joined on the logging road by a limping deer who veered off into the river. John hustled fast and we got to the river in time to see the deer trying to cross. 

About the time that John's ashes were being interred in Beckley, Elizabeth sang "July, July" - a song she wrote which had us in tears at Ann's while reading through our show. Borrowing from Elizabeth's lyrics, John did a good job in his life. As Mindy said, "he taught Baldwin how to build." Ezra, tonight, added, "he was great to play golf with!" (He saved Fred's (my second x-husband) life on the golf course!). He was a fine masseuse. 
Need to toast him with some Jack!

what i am doing, i think

No groundhog in the have a heart this morning; must have chosen the wrong hole under the fence - will try second choice in Mahoney's territory with the hens. Carrying a bucket when I go to the chicken coop to collect black walnuts which I toss in a pile away from the yard for the squirrels. The walnut tree's lower limbs touch the ground with the weight of nuts this year; down by the river one of the large walnuts has the largest green globes I have ever seen. Does this imply a cold winter or just remark on the rainy spring?
End of September so soon. Leaves on the deck which I sweep as they fall again and again. Soon I will move the lime tree into the green house (20 limes dangling from its spindly limbs). I love fall and savor the last of the fresh dinners from the garden.
And as I bend to collect another green walnut, I smile with the flash image of myself at 90 doing this or sweeping the leaves over and over again from the deck!