Evanescence

Rosh Hashanna is the day G-d decides who will live and who will die during the comming year. Each year it smacks me with my mortality. Far worse, it reminds me of the mortality of those I love. It reminds me that my determination to live is only part of the equation. Rather I will be here next year hinges not only on my taking care, but of others also, and G-d. My beta blockers and salt boycott will not save me from a drunk driver or lightening. Enough sleep is no protection against a gun or even cancer. Worse, my prayers, heartfelt and frequent, may not protect my others from those terrible things.

There is a story of a Rabbi who wrote on a slip of paper, I AM BUT DUST AND ASHES; on a second slip he wrote FOR ME THE WHOLE WORLD WAS CREATED. Each morning he placed one slip in his left pocket and the other in his right. On days he felt low, ineffective, unloved, sad he pulled out the slip that reminded him that "For me the whole world was created". On days he felt cocky, confident, invinciable he drew out the other slip and rememebered that "I am but dust and ashes".

Both are true. We are but dust in the wind, energy that goes from form to form, flesh that feeds fires and tulips. Yet, each of us is a unique individual who has never been here before, that will never appear again. Each of us is as precious as any of us. For us the world was made. For us the sky is blue, trees green, birdsong sweet.

On Rash Hashanna G-d weighs us, and decides...

Who by fire?
Who by water?
Who in the sunshine?
Who in the night time?
Who by high ordeal?
Who by common trial?
Who in your merry, merry month of May?
Who by very slow decay?
And who shall I say is calling?

Who in her lonely slip?
Who by barbiturate?
Who in these realms of love?
Who by something blunt?
Who by avalacnche?
Who by powder?
Who for his greed?
Who for his hunger?
And who shall I say is calling?

Who by brave ascent?
Who by accident?
Who in solitude?
Who in this mirror?
Who by his lady's command?
Who by his own hand?
Who in mortal chains?
Who in power?
And who shall I say is calling?

L. Cohen

Belly Rings and Mennonites

A few years back, bellies started showing up. Here a belly there a belly. Unsually the bellies were flat and very young. That combination, even with Cleopatra eyeliner, failed to break the illusion of stupid (umm...innocent)youth. They were just too cute.

My sister, mother of young girls, complained bitterly about them. I defended them. We, I said, used to go about in skirts up to our cracks. We were young and cute then and they are young and cute now. So there!

But over time, more bellies came out, child bellies, not so good. Someone dressed them, just exactly what for is a mystery to me. Older bellies, some with stretch marks and wrinkles, some with belly rings, some with visable hair! I closed my mouth and wished that they would buy a mirror. Then pregnant bellies, some of them with belly rings. Then at last fat bellies and even one senior belly. Have all the mirrors in the land been broken?

Now stretch marks and wrinkles, babies and fat are all part of life and a lovely part at that. But not on public display; framed by low rider jeans and boobs.

Then I met, under sad circumstances, a different girl, young, trim, lovely. She had on "plain dress", a clean face and shinning hair in a long braid down her back. She was confident, well spoken, polite. In my heart, I knew that she was what American girls could be. I felt some little grief for what we have robbed ourselves and our daughters of.

My mother said that American culture and society quickly began to falter when men stopped wearing hats. It wasn't the hats of course. It was the habbit of taking them off indoors and tipping them to women that constantly reminded men of the division between indoor and outdoor life.

The bellies alone are neutral. A belly is just a belly. Fat or flat, wrinkled or smooth, with our without piercings. But the mind is not neutral. Without dignity sufficent to prevent it from putting the belly on display in the public arena it probably lacks dignity sufficent to produce and maintain a citizen, a mother, a wife. A dear friend summed it up thusly: Ain't she got no pride?

Sometimes All I Need...

Lovely weekend. For me it started Friday noon. I close up early so I can go to the Hunter for a few hours of volunteer work. Happy happy I am.

Saturday I felt yucky, but the sky was blue and nothing much called me. Later the favorite oldest boy and favorite only daughter came over to visit. Happy happy I am.

Sunday morning I finished "Joan". Not so good, but hey, not horrible either. In the afternoon favorite youngest son came to see me, went to Mom's, looked at stacks of old family books. Ate cookies, bad girl. Visited the New Moon Gallery, lovely, lovely, smells so good. Bought a hemp bag and a CD. Went home, cooked cornish game hens and rice pudding. Finished West novel. Thought deep thoughts, Happy happy I am.

Morning Has Broken

Blackbird has spoken on the new day.

This morning when I woke the dark was diluted enough for the gentle grayed greens and browns to show against the skies dawning blue. In the quietness I drank my coffee and was content. It seemed that this moment was eternity. The sky lightened, the crows had an early morning rally, and my tree became sharply visable. And still I was content. When the morning was solid I fed the fish and the chickens, took my shower, dressed for the day, and still I was content. Now at the office, the lights on, the blinds raised, the plants watered and the phone answered I am still content.

Today is the day that the Lord has made, let me rejoice and be glad in it.

Summer's Passing

Since I had to write about the extreme heat this summer, I will now balance out the moaning by saying that the weather is wonderful! Cool at night, nice at noon, still bearable at 3:00, sweet sweet sweet.

Now that fall is around the bend I have started my annual autumn program of getting my flora and fauna ready for winter. The dogs get a cup more food each evening and heartworm preventive (ivermectin) every two or three weeks instead of once a month. I also use a second broad spectrum wormer in mid October and after the second or third frost. The old dog gets additional bedding now and the younger dog gets deep bedded when the nights are in the 40's. This chickens will get one more good cleaning of the roost right after the first frost. The window in the coop will be closed when the nights get in the low 40's. The roof vents stay open all winter, no matter the cold. I add starchy vegtables to their diet, defrosted frozen peas and corn mostly. The pond fish get fed morning and evening until the water is too cold. In late September I switch to a special fall/spring food that won't rot in them if the temps drop. We take the floating plants out of the pond and trim back some of the overhanging branches in a mostly symbolic effort to reduce the amount of leaves that fall in it. Cat just gets wormed. He lives in the house, and eats as much as wants all year. Except for one more round of flea drops and a worming there is nothing to be done for him.

Houseplants are another matter. Some need to be repotted before they come in. In early October I will spend most of an otherwise good Saturday trying to decide where to keep them all during the winter. The bulk of the issue involves two huge pots of split leaf philos that take up entire blocks of whatever room they are in.

Fall also makes me happy because I can open doors and windows, turn off the AC, and pretend that I live in a simpler more primitive time. It takes me a while to get used to the absence of AC noise, especially at night, so I do keep the vintage style table fans on, at least until it actually gets cold. This year I would very much like to have a nice clothes line in the back yard. There is not much nicer than fresh line dried sheets.

I am not sorry to see summer going, even though it means that I have used up one of my alloted seasons. The heat was bad, I had some upheaval in my life mostly caused by mid life, my business partner left for a job, I only finished one painting (and it nothing special). I have been plagued by headaches and joint pain and too much sitting. Autumn always makes me happy in a pleasant bitter sweet sort of way. I have activities that I anticipate with great pleasure and glee for every season except summer. Summer I just endure. Goodby summer.