THE MYSTERY DOORS HAVE BEEN OPENED (1 of #100)

6/8/20

I’d worked for years and had managed to get by on my salary. I’d tried to save a little, and paid for what I bought in installments. You get used to living at a certain standard, and your whole life is spent struggling to maintain that standard. You’ve already eaten into your future salary with your credit card and installment plans. Once you got caught in that trap, it became almost impossible to change your life.

—Zulufu Livaneli, Serenade for Nadia

And then came the coronavirus.

And then came the Depression of 2020.

And then came the BLM protests.

Things looked a bit different.

4/19/21

Indeed, things are different.

My pal Debee H and I decided to do the #100 challenge, she for art, me for writing. I didn't even know that I could still sign in to this blog. So, things will be rusty.

I stopped writing the day that my beloved kitty, Oona Minnie Pearl Moonlight, was eaten by coyotes. I found her head and her tail. I stopped gardening that day as well. I grieve her to this minute.

In my ill-considered grief and my despair at the political world, particularly BLM, I got THREE NEW CATS. As I said, ill-advised. But with everything askew in the world, I was desperate for distraction and comfort. 

Finding a cat to adopt during the Covid pandemic was quite competitive. I spent a lot of time on Petfinder even trying ot get on lists for particular kitties. I have tried over the years to find kitties to bond with my mother, to try to replace her much-beloved Ariel, but none of the cats has shown particular preference to her. 

I guess there is no reason to natter on about cat adoptions. Now we have five as Emmylou, my bestest New York kitty, was euthanized in January due to congestive heart failure. Last summer, when the young ones arrived, I euthanized Butterscotch who far outlived her cancer prognosis. Four cats within twelve months were gone.

Later onto the next morning.

This feeble attempt at writing counts for my first day. I've been having all sorts of trouble figuring out how to sign in again. 

I haven't been reading so much, although I am (finally) almost finished with Frida in America which I have greatly enjoyed. I always like to have a book about music going that I dip into. The current read is Joe Smith's Off the Record: An Oral History of Popular Music. (You can listen to some of these interviews here.)

"By the time you're forty or fifty, your life is largely what it is going to be, and I think that is a crushing blow to a lot of people once they find that out. Your job is what it is, your kids are who they are, your home is where you made it, you have a mortgage, and you became what you were going to be. Physically you may be losing your hair, slowing down a bit, and in need of some major dentistry, but basically a lot of the mystery doors have been opened and the contents are clearly there. Unfortunately, a lot of people look at that and fold up."

— James Taylor, Off the Record

I know. Who would imagine that I would quote James Taylor as I largely eschew him, but here he makes some interesting points. I struggle with this being the end of my life constantly. That I am out of the job market, that I was never very successful ... yada yada yada. I'm still trying to find some ... optimism? Optimism is less Romantic than Hope.

 

No Kay Ryan tonight as I can barely keep my eyes open.

See ya real soon.