words, shouting

* T S Eliot:For last year's words belong to last year's language/And next year's words await another voice./And to make an end is to make a beginning.

* Kipling:We're all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding. 

Voltaire, Frost, Jesse, Arnold, music

* Voltaire: If you want to know who controls you, look at who you are not allowed to criticize.

* Frost: In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life:it goes on.

* Jesse to Walter in 'Breaking Bad': You gotta cut out all your loser cry baby crap right now and think of something scientific.

* Arnold: So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me, because I, too, am fluent in silence.

* I marvel at the professionalism and dexterity of a British military band in full uniform performing/playing while on horseback. Calm horses. 

end, candle, sun, day, sigh, year

* From 'Parade's End':If you let yourself go you'll go further than you wish.

* Knitting by candlelight while watching 'The Last of the Mohicans'.

* 'Does the sun ask itself, "Am I good? Am I worthwhile? Is there enough of me?" No. It burns and it shines. Does the sun ask itself, "What does the moon think of me? How does Mars feel about me today?" No. It burns, it shines. Does the sun ask itself, "Am I as big as other suns in other galaxies?" No. It burns. It shines.'

* A roaring, windy day which rattles the windows, sends the broom flying, quakes the cobwebs.

* Big sigh grateful.

* Headed for the big roundup, a computing of the year.

home, butter, clootie, crunches, rod, op/pro, daughter

 * While moving through the day I mentally listed what walking into the home would mean...a hot shower; dog play; water, water, water, to drink, drink, drink. 

* "knob of butter"

* I want to make a clootie. (Spell check gave that a red dot line--don't they have no culture (Scottish)?

* Tire crunches as they pass in the street.

* I have a rod Christmas tree--8 horizontal rods of decreasing lengths as they rise,  intersecting a vertical rod, to the top star. Empty, I draped it with my jewelry and put a red satin bow on top.  Realized that is what my mother did with a tree branch found after a whooshy wind storm on the Big Island in 1955. Jewelry decorations.

* Resigned to the inescapable operation/procedure, as I lay on the gurney I marveled at the ballet of professional hospital people who held back the curtain to enter. A nurse said she had the same op/pro two days ago (reassuring to me). The gyn knew to announce herself figuring that I would not recognize her (she gets to wear jewelry!). Although each asked the same questions (were they trying to trip me up?) which can be a bit daunting to a foggy brain slowly turning to mush as needed, they all were kind and calm. The anesthetist reassured me that, no, I would be sooooo far sedated that there was no way I would wake up as I did, screaming, during a past procedure. Ultimate delight engulfed me when the tiny assistant anesthetist dashed, raced, careened, my sides up gurney to the OR. What exhilarating fun to feel the air made cool by  speed whizz past my only wearing a hospital gown body. 

* A daughter who jumped out of the homeward bound car for a dash into the hospital to pay the pharmacy, as I did not bring $ or card. 

**** And they did the weight in metric!!!!

time, Guinness, yarn, worker

* H. Murakami: Time flows in a strange way on Sunday.

* You'll feel better when you've had a Guinness.

* At my age I get all my fun by sitting down with a ball of knobbly yarn.

* Every health care worker I have come across lately has been calm and cheerful. 

nests, skin, giving in, willows, dogs, towels, gone

* Nests of squirrels revealed in fallen leaf trees.

* My face skin tight and warm after a day in the sunshine with a book.

* Giving in, giving in, to the necessity of an operation in the time of pandy.

* Red and yellow willow shoots, curly, tall,  standing in a basket.

* The dogs demand their position  on either side of me on the sofa but when I get up and then return my place is smaller. Have they moved or have I grown?

* Washing and hanging out all the beach towels. I sink my nose into them as I fold and I smell the sun and remember summer.

* Donning hat, fluffy slippers, shawl when the sun is gone and I nestle in for the night. 

 

cat, laundry, calm, ggg gf

 * The elegance of a cat. Ballet. Grace. The transparency of a cat. Never concealing what thoughts transpire.

* Freshly laundered laundry working hard to be dry before I have to haul in the racks as the sun plops down so as not to offer the raccoons playtime amusement.

* Landing on a calm after two weeks of medical questions. Acceptance.

* Discovering the birth place of my great-great-great grandfather. Kirk Ireton, Derbyshire, England, 1788. Also found his middle name. How did he get to Ohio?

singing, crisp

 * What do you do when you cannot sleep? I sing. Supine. If I merely vocalize the words to songs all goes well. It is when I ramble off to envision what the words mean that I find myself wide eyed at the last bar. Intent upon remembering the entire gift list of the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' last night, I paused. 12 drummers drumming? What a cacophony, an eardrum splitting when combined with the 11 pipers piping. 10 lords a-leaping with 9 ladies dancing? There's going to be trouble there unless one of the lords leaves for a smoke. How large is this place anyway? Lots of activity. Do the 8 maids a-milking include farm animals? A lowing moo might fit in but what if these maids are a-milking goats or filching from the master. Almond milking would be quieter.  A-swimming swans necessitate a water feature, unless they paddle around in the punch.  Golly gee, I hope this show has been moved outside. Dinner must include an 8 geese a-laying omelet, huh? Gold rings come in a variety of sizes? As to the 4 calling birds...are they feathered creatures or '60's guys yelling at women? Get the cauldron hot for the 3 French hens. Well, at least there is the correct number of turtle doves to sidestep an altercation. Lonely partridge in the leaf denuded wintertime pear tree. Tonight I'm singin' songs in a language that is so foreign to me that I haven't a clue to the words.

* Crisp celery.

flowers, AML, nests

 * A splurge, indulgence. Every two weeks I order a flower arrangement from a local florist which I collect and enjoy at home. I carry it room to room as I move about the house and it is what I see when I open my eyes in the morning. 

* Sitting quietly in a room to play AML's 'Well then, what do you like?' game. Full sentences using no negatives. 

* Arranging comfy nests for the dogs in each room. "Okay, she's on the move. Let's cuddle up here." One such is by a window where they can guard the backyard.

seat, truth, edge, tongue, fresh, Fred, finished

 * A soft seat by the winder. Sun streaming through cold panes. Dogs beside edging for a spot with a view. The view for me...desert glow shed, round smooth rocks, dried penstemon asleep for the winter, brown leaves dressed trees. For them the view of a squirrel's (or squirrels's) nest way up high in the crabapple tree. The hope of spring and rebirth set on the shelf. The rhythm of life.

* Country music:"three chords and the truth"

* "We never step into the same river twice."

* "talked off the edge of a tantrum"

* Tongue stripping fresh pineapple. "Just another piece." Then, "Yipes!!"

* A fresh pot of cranberries bubblin'.

* Fred Rogers:"Often when you think you're at the end of something, you're at the beginning of something else."

* "The only thing that has to be finished by next Tuesday is next Monday."

leaves, walking, GW, moving

 * The subzero weather and recent snow zapped the remaining leaves-on-trees here. A ginko (I almost typed 'kinko') which yearly enchants me succumbed to the dead leaves hanging story. Not all is gloom however because propelled by the wind the leaves-on-trees shudder to produce a marvelous rustling sound.

* Schopenhaver: walking=a continuously checked falling.

* 'In Vlaamse Velden' Always I am interested in how the film industry of other countries present. This particular series offers the Great War from the viewpoint of Belgium. Several languages are used, as they are in Belgium, and the tension (ethnic?) between the speakers is portrayed. How invaded peoples react is informative. "To the German army and Germany. Soon may they be reunited" is a toast given by the owner of a house taken over by German officers. A bit of a soap opera at times but isn't that a fun way to present history? Fashion and costumely speaking, the Great War is my favorite era. The GW, a time between tightly corseted of previous eras and burn the damn thing (corset) with a great, healthy, full intake of breath. The soft, feminine, embellishments are still on the garments but the drag in the mud and filth length is gone and women can actually get down to productive work, unencumbered. Ghent is the home town of several characters and the sluices are opened to slow the German invasion which I knew happened in WWII in the Netherlands but was interested to learn the Belgians used this defense in the Great War.

* I have been away from the alphabet tapping here due to switching around rooms chez moi. A paint job, book moving, and more produced exhaustion and diversion from the recent voting in which (the vote) I did not participate. All is settled now and I am able to walk around in the dark without bruising (me).

candles, fallen, hair, wreaths, Rhett

 * Three candles sit side by side, lit. Two flames are constant, unwavering. The third flame dances to unseen, unfelt tides.

* The freshness of fallen snow when I stand outside. The city rattle and hum is muted. A humidity in the air quenches my arid pores.

* I have a Sunday assignation on screen which is a golden appointment. Not wanting to miss it, I log on with fiercely straggling hair. (No aroma screen yet so I am safe with the smell part.) He:"Your hair, your hair!" And he laughs because his hair is a wreck also!

* I splurged on two wreaths. Their aroma permeates my bedroom and I wake to lavender, eucalyptus and thyme.

* I did not vote. Rhett Butler's parting words hum in my mind.

out, booksellers, Fran

 * Out! Out! Wearing five layers and a pink frozen nose I and he go forth into the clear sky arctic cold. We return much refreshed.

* 'The Booksellers' on Am.

* Fran got booted out of school for "nonspecific surliness".

days, lights, mouse, lavender, vaporizer

 * Days of sulfur colored skies, the sun blocked. I search to find gems. My mother's quiet, orderly influence. The medical equipment lady who calls to find out why I have not picked up supplies. A pledge to keep fresh flowers on the table. Books. Two frisky dogs who force me out of bed and do not allow me back into it until late at night. A boarder who 'touches base' throughout the day.

* I string fairy lights through the dark hallways, keeping them lit 24/7.

* An intruding mouse (the first of the season) caught.

* A friend who unexpectedly tucks a bag of lavender between the doors.

* The trusty vaporizer.

Ingrid

 * Ingrid Michaelson:The storm is coming but I don't mind. People are dying, I close my blinds. All that I know is I'm breathing now./I want to change the world, instead I sleep. I want to believe in more than you and me. But all that I know is I'm breathing. All I can do is keep breathing. All we can do is keep breathing. Now.

PO, socket, drone, power, rain

 * She: The canyon is being evacuated. The fire is coming closer.                                Me: Oh! Oh! I've got to go get the mail.                                                                She: I'll drive out to get it for you.                                                                        Me: Can I come with you?                                                                                    So we rode out country just the two of us. What a kind thing for her to do; drive an old lady. The old lady wallowed in the bliss of not having to drive, looking around at all the delights she misses.

* The wind socket dangling from the tree disconnects and takes a jaunt in high winds to the perimeter of the yard. Someday it will pop right over the fence never to be seen again. As I was sitting out yesterday surrounded by another day of high winds I noticed it had wrapped two of its arms around the tree from which it hangs. Did not want to travel today, huh?

* Photos of Vermont via a drone

* I have the power to bring rain. While being blown about by the wind yesterday I noticed that the white plastic drain thingy casually connected to the drain pipe at the side of the house had blown across to the back fence. "It's not going to rain, I can reconnect it tomorrow." Ha! Today I woke to gently falling rain.

* Rain...Rain...Rain...Luscious air cleaning rain.

opener, fires, silos, barns, Dolly, cd

* I bought a new can opener because mine became a can't open her.

* Having experienced  fires from the west, I drove away out east onto the prairie to view them from another perspective. Our valley is socked in with smoke and I could see where the fires are now from this easterly vantage point. Eerie.

* Brick silos.

* Dilapidated, weathered, unpainted, wooden barns.

* 'Dolly Parton' on NF. Insightful. Just as I see her.

* CD's as the fires yellow light fades.

pie, wasted, St Anthony

* Pie tops decorated with cut out dough.

* And in the end all I am able to dredge up of our bond is strife, keeping my mouth shut, giving in, keeping my guard, protecting myself, swallowing deeply, my mantra:"You're okay. You're a good person.". What a wasted time together.

* St Anthony of Padua invoked for finding lost things.

Geraldine, Fred, bugs, relief, pass, MO, gee, dictionary

* Geraldine Granger dancing in a pink tutu.

* Fred Thursday.

* Ambushed by the flowers at the market, I succumb.

* Three Terminex vans in a row at a traffic light:"We're gonna get them nasty bugs!"

* Relief that someone I know decided not to travel.

* 'Pass Me By' "So tell the whole wide world, if you don't happen to like it; deal me out, thank you kindly, pass me by." I sang 'damn world' in the shower this morning.

* Molly. A dog with an MO.

* Being content and happy for no reason. "Hmmm...Why am I happy. Golly gee. I just am!"

* I have a live dictionary in the basement.

* So weird..Later I watch a video of a little boy with a chickpea stuck up his nose. The doctor wedges it out. I dissolve in tears. Any little victory means much today.

vine, do, Harvey

 * We all are quite affected by unplanned step changes/quantum leaps currently. I considered mentioning paradigm shifts but evidentially that term refers to mental changes only. I am going to use it anyway because I like how it sounds:paradigm shift. (No, that is not 2 old fashioned nightgowns for ten cents.)Floating around in this miasma (noxious atmosphere) of surprises I find many, many constants. The stars remain, as do the sun and moon. My cravings for coffee ice cream and cola persist. For thirty falls the vine leaves on the fence by the post office have become in October a brilliant heart stopping red. This vine covers a fifty foot long wire fence. At last week's visit the northern four feet of the fenced vine had become red leaving the remaining footage summer green. Today, today, the entire length of the fenced vine was red, really red, red, red. Although I have a working relationship with plants, until today I never sought to identify this vine. The red has mesmerized me for thirty Octobers to a numbing. On this visit I popped off leaf clusters for identification. Achieving this popping meant creating a close relationship with the vine (I wore my mask). I found light green pea sized berries  connected to the leaves. Off to the plant nursery went I, a not boring excursion because the tree leaves have begun to mutate color and it is fun to drive around. Virginia Creeper!! Sounds like an east coast serial killer. No, no, a constant October green to red vine.

* "The dog ate my bra. Thank goodness I don't wear one with an underwire anymore. I think the underwire bras gave me cancer." Says he,"Underwire bras have killed more women than any other garment." After quiet contemplation I could not think of a refutation.

* Elwood P. Dowd: Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.

* Dr Sanderson: I think that your sister's condition stems from trauma.                     Elwood P. Dowd: From what?                                                                               Dr Sanderson: Uh, trauma. Spelled t-r-a-u-m-a. It means shock. There's nothing unusual about it. There's the "birth trauma"-the shock of being born.....                     Elwood P. Dowd: That's the one we never get over.

* Veta Louise Simmons: Myrtle Mae, you have a lot to learn, and I hope you never learn it.

* Elwood P. Dowd: Wouldn't that get a little monotonous, just Akron, cold beer and 'you poor, poor thing' for two weeks?

* Regarder 'Harvey'!!

October, vapor, disagreement, Sitwell, Van Gogh, sunflowers

 * I dream of collecting  tangly, viney, delicate bittersweet, in home to drape it around my rooms. I want to reach, stretch high for persimmons. Persimmons to be carried home for puddin'. I long to open milkweed pods to set free their pure white  silk. To watch the silk float on the October air. 

* Hugging the cool mist vaporizer for a soothing of wildfire smoke irritated membranes.

* Reading 'How to Have a Disagreement Like an Adult'. Nine items but at the end of the first 'If you decide to do this item you do not have to read the remaining items'. I decide on the first but continue reading, with curiosity.

* Edith Sitwell:My personal hobbies are reading, listening to music, and silence.

* Michael Lipsey:If I say Vincent Van Gogh, do you think of 'Starry Night' or the bloody ear?

* Me, I see the sunflowers.

tricks, window, visits, real

 * Ruminating, reflecting, turning over in my mind the Jedi mind trick and 'Make the lie big, keep it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it'.

* Upping the window of my office so I can just barely see the bottom of the dancing wind socket and the rocks punctuated with dying weeds. No one can see into my world but I benefit from the fresh air.

* Early, early visits to food stores with empty aisles. Home for a proper fooding. Books in the sunshine.

* Another movie/life in which someone says, "Was any of it real?".

trim, furnace, trim

 * The tree trimmers have gone, leaving much open sky viewing.

* Our furnace has been inspected and is ready for winter. He was the first person since last year to enter our house. Perhaps another year before anyone enters again.

* To facilitate tree cutting activity I removed dividing fences. Think I will not put them back.

Atlas, differences, existence

 * Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier:the world or its people's hearts? Howling at the Moon Suresh

 * Ruminating about the differences between diary, journal, and memoir.

 * "Writing became for me a way to prove my existence." a 12 year old Sierra Leone soldier.

    

    

life, season, shed, uke

 * You lay life on a table and cut out all the tumors of injustice. Marvelous. Ah, but cutting out the tumors of injustice, that's a deep operation. Someone must keep life alive while you do it. By living. Isn't that right?  Doctor Zhivago

* The season of soft paws transferring dead, crunchy leaves from out to in, the sweeping of them from in to out.

* The newly painted shed glows in the dark.

* "So many things to wonder." The only movie in which I can bear to watch Adam Sandler, so much do not enjoy him. Maybe the uke helps.

shower, dog, hair, vet, nose, put, forgive

 * A new showerhead.

* The dog sat on my glasses. You do not want to know.

* I got a haircut. First since Feb.

* The ruffling sound of a dog rearranging the bedding (mine).

* A trusted vet who diagnoses using an email photo.

* "You have Grampa ______'s nose." Looking at the small screen at the bottom, by golly, I do. He had his mother's and she had her father's. Did her father have his mother's?

* "Don't put off 'till tomorrow what you can do today." What?? Putting off is my favorite thing.

* Forgiving, mostly dead people, helps me breathe more deeply. Still living people have the chance for, "I'm sorry" still. Yom Kippur next week.

dark, eat, chores, trees

 * I have been sitting in quite dark rooms lately. And quiet ones, also. This began several months ago not to conserve electricity especially but just as a happening one night. I put down a book, switched the light and just sat. My arid eyes accustomed to the dark until I began to distinguish shapes. I have thought that one has finally come home after a new move when the mover-in can walk around in the darkened house with no clothes on and not bump into things like great aunt Harriet's prickly sideboard or, lets say, the sleeping on the floor dog. That night I just sat, enveloped in the gentle hum of the air purifier and, since it was rather late, the quite nice lack of traffic noise. I did not mentally list things to do on the morrow. I did not really think about anything. Have you ever done that? Just sit?

* As the punkins pile up in front of stores I begin to wonder as I masticate (I had to look that one up to make sure I spelled it properly.) "Am I eating the last watermelon for 2020, the last mush melon?"

* Summer chores have melded into autumn chores. I painted 2/3 of the shed yesterday. 'Desert Glow' Lovely to view in the falling snow.

* I was quite embarrassed the other day when my usually excellent sense of direction failed me. Truly, I navigated Paris without a map. Perhaps it was the excitement of having my trees trimmed and the wondering of how in the heck it would be accomplished. Anyway, I went to a door  I thought was that of my across the fence neighbor to get permission for the trimmers to attack their limbs which overhang my trees and (blush) it was the wrong door. I nervously bounced through my litany of why it is a good idea to trim, the man signed and I tottled on home, pleased with myself. Fifteen minutes later he appeared at my door saying that really was not his tree but belonged to someone further west. A few days later the blush went away and I was ready to sally forth to find the correct door. I was saved from expedition when I heard the sound of my across the fence neighbor dishes clanking through her open kitchen window. Yooohoos. Introductions. Signing. Completion. I was speechless from admiring her dangly earrings and wondering how she puts on her face mask. Trimmers will come in a month.

plumb

 * My father's older brother was a plumber in a small town. He disproved the saying that a cobbler's children always go shoeless and barefoot because his house was perfectly plumbed. Visiting every June was a hot, humid trip with the added  indignity of being dragged around for exposition and display in front of relatives and people I had no interest in and seemingly nothing but blood in common with. (I wish now that I had been more interested in them, but, kids, what can you do with them!) Dinner out was the MO because his wife did not cook. To her credit, she worked the books for the plumbing business so probably after a day fiddling with numbers cooking was not so much looked forward to. After a day of people pleasing a tidy up for me was necessary before dining out and my uncle had plumbed a claw foot bathtub as a second wash up place to get visitors into the restaurant bound cars faster. He put it in the just barely able to stand up, angled, slope roofed attic. A window beside the tub presented a treetop bathing view. The uniqueness of the tub, the attic, the view and the at last I get to be alone by myself relief tended to slow my ablutions so that I was always the last to hop into the car as it pulled away from the curb. This timing was unfortunate because that meant I had to ride in the backseat behind my uncle with my window up and closed to avoid the tobacco juice which he periodically spit out of his window. Everybody else dibbed the good seats.

circus, mag

 * Every morning a circus arrives at my house. Well, I've never actually been to a circus but I am a well read circus attender. Dogs. Dogs which seem to have multiplied overnight. I do have just two but their stunts and enthusiasms of mornings lead my eyes closed brain to believe in overnight exponential multiplications. Anticipated food seems to be one element of their enthusiasms. But, what can explain their excited cavorts in  dashing out to the wet and cold? At some architectural epoch narrow hallways were drawn. I walked through many old narrow hallways in Scotland so there must be a long history to them. I write of passages so narrow that a short armed woman (me) has not enough room to angel stretch her arms owing to the bumping of walls. (My short arms challenge knitting patterns.) I live with a narrow hallway. Thus, my litany (do you have morning litanies?) to avoid trips sounds "Outta da way", "I'm walkin here.", "Watch it! Watch it!". And that is just on the tottle to the dog grub. I keep the litanies clean owing to the idea that I endeavour to present a dignified, cultured presence to my lodger. I think I have fooled him. So. A circus every morning.

* Confession: I have  a not cheap subscription to a British magazine because I enjoy the smell of the pages. Okay...the pictures are purty, too.

city, sparrow, fence

 * The city shrouded in gossamer.

* Standing at the window enjoying the dampness patterned on the river rocks I notice a sparrow calmly, discretely bobbing about finding breakfast.

* Dampness patterns on a grey weathered fence.

brush, cricket, bun

 * I crawled into bed at midnight mourning the loss of a face brush that I bought in 1982. Sometimes it is the smallest losses that pause us, that trip us up. Such a frivolous thing to miss! How silly to be distracted by a hairy thing the size of a golf ball. But..but. What it had lived through with me! When thirsty at 3am I tottled to the kitchen and...there on the counter was the face brush! Disheveled woman seen dancing in the kitchen.

* A cricket finds a place in the bathroom to escape the cold and snow.

* A soft warm bun as incentive for leaving the warm house early.

fresh, vest, tea

 * Inhaling fresh, cool, smoke free air for the first time in weeks. Thank you snow and rain. Thank you for the promise of continuing precipitation for the next day or so.

* Pulling my quilted vest out of the trunk. Putting it on though it is unwashed from last spring (do not tell my mother!). Where were my thoughts then? How much have they shifted since?

* Hot tea, hot tea, hot tea......

waiting, punkins, nothing

 Waiting while Mommy gets coffee.

* Ready to choose punkins to line up on the porch.

* A day with nothing scheduled.

optimist

* As the darkness visits I sing, as they used to say, at the top of my lungs:

When the skies are a bright canary yellow

I forget every cloud I've every seen

So they call me a cockeyed optimist

Immature and incurably green.

I have heard people rant and rave and bellow

That we're done and we might as well be dead,

But I'm only a cockeyed optimist

And I can't get it into my head.

I hear the human race is falling on its face

And hasn't very far to go,

But every whippoorwill

Is selling me a bill,

And telling me it just ain't so.

I could say life is just a bowl of Jello

And appear more intelligent and smart,

But I'm stuck like a dope

With a thing called hope,

And I can't get it out of my heart!

Not this heart...

Thx R & H

chill, mitts, seed, car

 * The chill air at night pushes me to find my winter pajamas to wear. Smoke in the city has drifted away finally and the day temperature has a coolness to it. Ah! I have finally accomplished my high school speech teacher's forecast for me. A weather girl.

* I begin mitts for winter, figuring out a pattern as I proceed.

* I sit in my car watching chickadees prying seeds off of the dried sunflower heads which droop on the kapakahi stocks. The bird feeders (greatly missed  at sunset) got put away because they attract marauding raccoons. Last summer a peek out the window at one am would give me a display of raccoon families raiding the birdseed. "Come on, Pa, let's pause the movie and get a snack." So now the sunflowers offer dinnertime for chickadees as I sit in my car in the driveway watching them. My little car must think it queer I sit head back to gaze at chittering chickadees. Actually, I quite often stay in my car after I have navigated the driveway and switched off the motor. Sometimes I sits and thinks and sometimes I just sits. To escape the roving bands of beasts in the house I often eat fast food in my driveway parked car. They are curious that my hands quite often smell of grease. I read the other day that the use of 'quite' is a Britishism so I have begun incorporating its use into my writings. But for now I am quite tired so where did I put those winter pajamas.....

* A visiting son told me that he always knew when my husband and I were intensely discussing a topic of disagreement because we would be out in the car in the driveway together. I cannot recall what topics led us to go out there but now I wonder where couples went before cars were available. The barn? The root cellar? The south forty? Envisioning the possibilities for semi-clandestine disagreements will keep me up all night.

fun, pause, miners, pockets

* Underestimate me. That will be fun. 

* Hummingbirds in the penstemon. The tears drip down my cheeks.

* Miners live in this house...periodic crunching and chipping away at the ice in the freezer. No ice maker.

* Daily finding the pockets of coolness to do yardwork. Oh! Glory! I feel more me.

Tidied up the rings around trees yesterday, planted, dug a hole, transplanted. Life is normal and satisfying in the garden.

Eyams, friends, domino, lump

 * In Eyams, England, lived chroniclers of the Black Plague. Today there is a Plague museum but "Our present pandemic has prevented the annual Plague Parade and Well Dressing this year...". So in 100 years will they have a Pandemic Parade or will they just incorporate it into the Plague Parade? (I had to research 'well dressing'.)

* 'Friends of the Friendless Churches'

* I love the domino effect of researching one word which leads me to curiosity about other words (thus, more research). Ditto with people, which produces an even more convoluted web of inquiry.

* Influencing people to laugh and journey out of their miasma of discontent is lump-in-the-throat satisfying.

Gorky, Phil, safe, Olten, dog

* 'Without Gorky' Dates, times, evil, decimation all become more real when told through an individual's life. I sink into relief at the stark truth, long not admitted by a country whose name begins with a 'T', that, yes, yes, this happened.

* 'Somebody Feed Phil' The face timing with his parents at the end of each episode which incorporates them into what he is experiencing. Phil travels with good humor, without the edgy malice of Tony.

* Learning of trusted safe places, friends, extended family that women have retreated to.

* I am moving to Olten, Switzerland. Fine cocoa powder exhausted through the ventilation system of a chocolate factory, covering the town. I will stand outside with my open mouth tilted skyward as I did as a child in a snowfall.

* The black fluffy dog follows me to rooms: "How long will she stay here? Shall I get comfortable?"

 

opiate, awol, Jack, Julia

 * Somewhere in my periphery, conventions are doing. I cannot find the energy to care about those opiates of the masses.

* Golly! The illusive duster is AWOL. In order to combat the squalor I must seek the fluffy thing. Not today.

* Jack's father was a famous footie. Jack's father beat his wife. Everyone idolized Jack's father. Only Jack knew who his father beat. How can Jack live with the lie? All in Oz.

* An unnamed theme song floated  around in my head for weeks without I could put a name to it. The shadow of the name drifted through my days until ach! Being Julia.

rice, water, rain

 * The huge rice-to-be cooked storage bins, the enormous rice cookers in Japanese movies. Just cooked some basmati and the aroma!

* A deep pitcher of cold water. I do not bother about getting a glass, just glug from the pitcher.

* Finally, at last, rain comes in huge blobs. The wipers remember their job. 

Cranford, summer, bench

 * Nipping into Cranford again, always an enjoyable trip. I appreciate Gaskell much more than Austen.

* Late summer has truly arrived. Gardens are crunchy with drought. I can taste the smoke filled air when I go outside. I like campfires so this is not a hardship for me and it seems the beginnings of the fire at higher elevation gave animal owners enough time to move their livestock. "To hell with the house! Let's get the horses and llamas out of here!" has been heard.

* I moved a lime green bench to another location in the back. Now it peeps out through the lilac bushes. At this time of year my organization of the back depends on how I think something will look in the snow.

warm spots, pool, sunflowers

 * However hot the air in the house (I decided to skip replacing the AC this year), the floor is always cool, almost cold. So when I walk into a room and onto a hot or warm patch =Yipes! what is going on here? and all sorts of catastrophes swirl around in my head. Minutes later I figure out that one of the dogs has been sleeping there, creating a warm spot. And I relax back into my 'thinking of other things' mindedness.

* I began to swim when young. I did not use the word 'learn' there because the scenario was:"Here's the pool. There is no lifeguard. Have fun. Come home when you want food." On the inevitable school days I made sure my gills were hidden from view. I was a solitary swimmer, solitary person. The reason I mention all this is that what too often is happening with me nowadays reminds me of that first time I thrust down to touch the bottom at the deep end of the pool, having  tossed a shiny stone to the depths as incentive. Thrusting down was the easy part. On the upward trek I fought the weight of the water, ear pressure, lung bursting possibilities, a knowledge that I was in this upward scramble alone. Nowadays it seems the same. I am alone in the pool of life (did I really write that?), a solitary person pushing aside the forces of an insane world, nagging tapes of the past, caught in a Stephen King scenario all to a discordant sound track. The gem of this paragraph (and truly there is one)is that the "Here's the pool..", "This is a bike, figure it out yourself", "These are roller skates + the metal key.", "A sewing machine!",  solo figuring out the contortions of using yarn and needles chalked up successes which enable me to persevere now, at this time, in this indescribably challenging, as one of my favorite movie titles says,'...Mad...World'. That is the gem, the shinning glimmer.

* Better to describe the changing days minutely rather than broadly label as summer, etc. This is the time of sunflowers. Majestic, sturdy, bee attracting, prickly stalked, drought resistant, proud, sunflowers.

visitor, bed, roses

* A visitor has gone and I wander the house and yard drained, unable to focus on any of the to-do's glaring at me. Giving up, I plop onto the bed to lie and watch the light flicker through the blue sheet curtains. A variety of blues.

* What's with this tidying and making up of beds in the morning? House Beautiful will not suddenly burst into my home for a photo op.

* The last roses of summer.

McCoy, storms, pockets

* Subtitle of a book ='the surreal McCoy'.

* If people are moored shallowly then storms wreck them.
   J Peterson

* The Pocket. Published in England, it does not discuss pockets in the Colonies. I am sure ladies wore pockets in the Colonies but to hear about it I call upon a local expert.Yes! The Pocket  informs me about what ladies, women, kept in their pockets  which is as fascinating as the pockets themselves.

brag, escaped, driving

* Not to brag or anything but I can forget what I am doing while I am doing it.

* I hope wherever my socks have gone they are happy. The bra ran away months ago.

* For me, driving is such a contemplative time (though not so much in horrid traffic) when I calm myself and iron out the major, big, cataclysmic offerings my present world is giving to me on a dented platter. Somedays I want to run away on a many week road trip so I can really set things straight. Today a jaunt to the post office had to suffice.  I have recently been analyzing why I still rent the post office box in another town ten miles away. The rent increases every year and now is due in September.  It has been mine since 1989. Many times under threat of closing, this small PO has plodded on, displaying the same inside decor, a yellow plastic 50's wall covering. Workers  wear thread bare plaid flannel shirts except when they know a big boss is coming at which time they hunt around for the official shirts kept wadded up under the front counter.  The exterior was caulked and repainted two years ago, three years after a big hail (tennis ball size) storm tore and gouged into it. Traffic flow is a nightmare in the parking lot so to visit during open business hours is iffy. I could have used the word 'problematic' there but that word dissolves me into the giggles for some reason. Are there words that do that to you? The wife of the parson down the street does the cleaning. The air is so quiet as I sit in the scary parking lot-- only the deep octave cattle sounds and the gentle swish of the dinosaur shaped field sprinkler exist. The canyon begins just west of the PO. I will keep the box. I will tell you how much the rent increases this year.

Jane, bubbles, loopy, traveller

* "What a pleasant life might be had in this world by a handsome, sensible old lady of good fortune blessed with a sound constitution and a firm will."
Jane Austen

* Large dome bubbles form in the shallow puddles as the rain plunks down.

* The loopy, wet power lines shine as silver when the sun strikes them.

* Postings from a nostalgic traveller. 

* Revisiting 'Cold Comfort Farm' and my first view of Ian McKellen. 

roses, fan, groom

* "It is not about stopping to smell the roses. It is about knowing, realizing, the roses are still there."

* I carry the fan from room to room as I settle to work for awhile in each one. Quite a procession: me with huge box fan, a furry black dog, a furry khaki dog.

* A jewel of a dog groomer.

Marleau, blueberries, fiddles

* Captaine Marleau, she wears my hat.

* Luscious blueberries. My mother introduced me to the act of freezing blueberries at their peak of ripeness in order to enjoy them, still frozen, on early dark winter nights instead of less healthy snacks. The best freezer container I have found is an empty gelato pint container. This particular brand of gelato is on sale these days so I am happy to indulge in gelato. And look forward to frozen blueberry winter nights.

* 'Ashokan Farewell'
   'Shove the Pig's Foot a Little Further Into the Fire'

* Such fun watching the endeavors of across the street neighbors and conjuring up the details of their lives.

* Dear city conformance vehicle that often drives air conditioned past my house :the 3 foot high things are not weeds but are actually tree sprouts which I am encouraging to grow. 

doors, thirst, cool

* Why do characters not find out who is on the other side of the door before they open it?

* Quenching the thirst of outdoor plants. They visibly brighten up.

* A dark, cool office.

book, purchase, clear, binge, comb

* "What kind of book would your life be?"
   "A medical dictionary."
   "No, really."
   "A novel with its pages glued together."
   "It is time you unstuck the pages."

* "That is the best thing you've bought all year."

* 'clear history'

* I can binge watch 4 seasons/series of a show then must stop because the characters and plot become so improbable and I am stuck on a conveyer belt. Better to imagine what happens after the 3rd.

* A black comb with half the teeth missing.

situation, show, mental

* Pushing through a situation, it helps to imagine a worse situation.
   Giraffe with a sore throat.

* the Graham Norton Show

* "You're absolutely mental!"
   "Yeah. But in a nice way?"

series, aspen, rain

* Watching a French television series with much soup, cigarettes, and coffee shared amongst the characters. My mouth waters for soup, cigars, and coffee. Enjoying the German words interspersed with French. zweisamkeit. einsamkeit. Someone in a humor class said that Germans have no sense of humor but I think their humor manifests itself in their language, subtlely or subtly. (My spell correct does not like the first one.) The way words are glued together in German is interesting. Krankenhaus.

* Aspen leaves shiver.

* Far away, a curtain of rain falls from dark clouds. A grey water color wash.

* I cringe/flinch when the theme of a book/short story is missed...In today's crossword the clue is 'gift in "the Gift of the Magi"'. Their answer is 'fob'. No, guys, you are missing the entire, whole wonderful point of the story.

bummed, decorations, sleeves, clouds

* I am bummed all day until the rains finally come to cool the earth and the air. I sit on the damp red camp chair feeling the wet soak into my blouse and pants. At last the dogs can cavort--the male wetting on every plant and the female chewing on the ornamental grasses. There is a strong possibility that she will choke up her cud after we go inside but, hey, that is why I have no rugs. Easier to clean up the human's blood in his last year, easier to clean up throw up stuff. Writing that, I feel myself coasting back into bumitude so I evacuate this topic!

* Finally I take down the Christmas decorations.

* On two of the sweaters I am knitting I am ready for the sleeves, my least favorite part of a sweater. I will hop back and forth between them to keep alive the drama and interest.

* Never can enough be said about the clouds and their formations here=so spectacular.

bowl, water, sign off

* Limes and lemons together in a white bowl on an old oak table.

* I do not see if I have placed the sprinkler just right until the leaves of the bushes begin to quiver and sparkle.

* We sign off with movie quotes (we know that we love one another).  Whap! "Snap out of it!" and "What's the matter, Pop." "I'm confused." Ah! I've got that movie. An enjoyable 90 minutes pass.

Patrick, typos?, new light

* Picard reading Shakespeare's Sonnets. He does not read those he does not like.

* Reading a book set in Scotland, I notice typos but then wonder if they are Scottish words.

* Lying in bed as new light filters through the gap in the curtain, I estimate the time.  My eyes crave something of beauty as their first focus at mornings. The medallion quilt (I calculate its age=38 years) hangs just there. White walls. Dried eucalyptus. Fuzzy dog patiently waiting. Colors of 'Flaming June'.  Shape of a crab apple tree outside. Then, gratitude...for another night survived, for love known, for children safe, for trees living, for remembered people, for, for, for....

Gaiman, Ian, Jupiter

* Neil Gaiman: "We are tougher than we seem. 
                       We are tougher than we think. 
                       Our stories will outlive us. 
                       Let's make them good."

* I happen upon a magnificent interview of Ian McKellen. 

* Jupiter and Saturn!!!!!

Steve, voices, focus

* Steve Martin learning how to pronounce 'hamburger'.

* Recordings of voices.

* Focus.

wear gloves, Res, ballet

* I cringe and shudder when archivists and their visitors do not wear gloves when handling precious documents and artifacts. 

* To the Res today for a wade in ice water. 

* Living with the heat is a finely choreographed ballet of adjusting windows and curtains, positioning fans, removing clothing and pouring iced water.

expedition, o/c/h, lady

* We plan our expedition assiduously, checking our watches (phones, really), endeavoring to complete our mission with the least amount of stress pounding into our overheated bodies. I aim the car into a 30 minute space. Not the best location because it is just by the corner and pulling back out of it is problematic. (I like using 'problematic'. The possibilities of the problems possibly presented are plural.) Time! Ready! Go! He carries the basket. Many comments I have received about that basket. Time is evaporating! He returns! Home now with salsa, burrito (we share), queso. No margs this time--too early in the day. 

* The ottoman/cassock/hassock I have had forever spilt its seams last week. The top removes to expose a hiding place which no one knows about unless they pick it up weirdly. I have secreted in that place telling myself I definitely would remember my secretion many times only to forget and done without stuff until I remembered (usually in the middle of the night). Whether or not I remembered in the morning was a challenge. If my mother were here she would not rest until she recovered the o/c/h for me but she is not here, she is resting in the netherworld. Solution...duct tape. A little store I attend has a limited supply of dc. I do not like to go to big stores. The red xed tape does not quite match the red of the o/c/h however it all is just as comfortable.

* "There is a lady in the drawing room."

Stephen, planner, entice

* Apparently, this year is being written by Stephen King. A friend mentions 'The Twilight Zone'.

* I bought a 2021 monthly planner. Earliest purchase of a year's planner. A fat, intricate, glossy, expensive planner. By gosh, 2021 is going to happen for me. Fast. And it will be the year I fill up every planner page with things I did:purty pickchurs, lovely dreams, and joy.

* Books on shelves that entice me away from what I am suppose to be doing.

mudlarker

* A real gem...Knowing, acknowledging,  another person's joy and satisfaction. I follow the page of a London mudlarker. She shares photos of her finds in situ, while held in the palm of her hand, and cleaned up. She wrote, "Friday evening, on a quiet, dark and sultry foreshore, the river finally gave me what I've been waiting 15 years for...a medieval pewter pilgrim badge. I danced a jig, I squealed and I haven't stopped smiling all weekend! St Osmonde, mid 15th century and the only hand that's touched it in almost 600 years is mine." I am deeply appreciative of and am fascinated by people who give their whole heart and energy and being to their non-confrontational, positive  interests and passions. She has found a quiet oasis in a bustling city as she with surgical gloves and knee pads searches in the muck of a tidal river. It is people calmly, quietly, evenly getting on with living that are brilliant. They are life's real gems.

tunes, travel, clock

* Long not thought of tunes bubble up from Girl Scouts, Broadway shows, '50's and '60's. I sing. Someone jokingly talked about jumping off of a bridge='Ode to Billy Joe' popped up in my mind.

* My post isolation travel list grows. St John the Baptist in Inglesham, UK (near the origins of the Thames) + Crovie, Scotland. Dreams are necessary.

* An analogue clock that does not 'tick' loudly.

early, fan, sampler

* Eyes half open, I approach the outdoor chair and manage to fill the seat. The cool dry air brushes my cheeks.  The day is still new and fresh with possibilities. The dogs freely  explore the night's drama of the south forty. Oops! Something may be in the tallest tree. I dissuade their barking and they are distracted by the tall ornamental grasses. A salad before breakfast? In the winter they path the snow close to the fences, patrolling. Summer now and the heat will fall on us soon. Time for dog food.

* The reassuring rumble of the attic fan.

* A framed sampler sewn by my  mother back when my daughter was learning her letters.

hollyhocks, Eyam, photo

* Stiff vertical hollyhocks of pinks against a building whose weathered boards are painted ochre. Silica + aluminum + ferric oxide.

* A book telling the Eyam story. My first instinct is to find the stories of living through disasters.

* A photo of me sitting on a wall in Santa Fe taken...12 years ago.

much to report

* Maybe working on little things as dutifully and honestly as we can is how we stay sane when the world is falling apart.  Haruki Murakami

* Lavender cut to dry on my desk, the book table, in the bathroom. When I walk by I activate the air and I am engulfed in sweet lavender aroma.

* Patient morning dogs who wait while I toddle to the back door to let them out. 
The one who sleeps on my bed corner was watching me wake up this morning so we reclined there communing until his stomach growled.

* A room mate who sets mouse traps and empties them. Why are mice coming into the house in June? They usually wait until the deep fall cold weather invades us. 

* Joan Hickson's interpretation of Miss Marple. I have never viewed the complete series so this is a jolly treat. The props, the set details are delightful. The period clothing. I want to be Joan's Miss Marple. Anyone for a cuppa?

* I paused my writing of Gems because I felt rather like a tree falling in a forest with no evidence of a human hearing the sound. However just today I received a hint that people do read my words.

* When the trees are delivered the guys notice the lilac in bloom. We trade understanding looks when one mentions the delight when the breeze circulates lilac aroma as we sit quietly in our gardens.