Later on April 15th.
There’s nothing quite like feeling “Well, I got that one out of the way. Now, I can garden and get some stuff done” only to be derailed by an elderly Mom exclaiming “Thank God you’re home!” as you enter the door. So much for actually getting something to eat and getting to gardening. The toilet had overflowed. As if this weren’t messy enough, old folks need access to toilets pretty regularly and often very quickly, so she was in a bit of a panic. My poor mom thought we had to call a plumber and then my older brother to get money to pay the plumber. She couldn’t find any telephone numbers.
So, I had to find my missing flip flops so that I could drive somewhere, because we have little to nothing in this town, to find a plunger as, of course, ours is lost in the melee and likely dead rubber as well. Fortunate smiled as I found my flip flops and headed to the car when I saw my good neighbor out. She had one I could borrow. Problem solved in a moment and I will certainly get to the bathroom floor mopping later today.
And so it goes. Maybe I can have breakfast and get some digging done before it gets any hotter.
How's your day going?
April 16th
Had to start this morning with some Aretha Franklin which is really helps offset the disaster. I must admit to some disbelief at the depths of venality the GOP party shows. I am astonished and startled anew almost every day. I cannot think of their behavior as other than rape, dismemberment, and murder. How can it be that so many are so bereft of any sort of mercy, decency, or what I used to think of as humanity?
I started off with Aretha doing Day Dreaming, which is certainly something we can embrace in the face of the terrorists raping the USA. It is her version of Bridge Over Troubled Water that really grabbed me this morning (although now we are on to her versions of Ben E. King's Don't Play That Song (You Lied). I read somewhere that Paul McCartney wrote Let It Be for her.
Later that same morning.
I got all caught up in youtube videos for awhile there.
And again.
Lost my focus and now I am hungry. I have enjoyed not pressuring myself to go get things done. In an hour, Patrick and I are going to take our bikes to the open bike shop to get tuned up. It would be nice to bike ride while the traffic is so low.
Yesterday did end up being acceptably productive. I have a couple of major tasks like finishing a thorough kitchen and bathroom clean and finishing the laundry I started. But the my sheets got changed and how sweet it was to enjoy the smooth coolness when I got into bed, late, but not too late, last night. I need to get onto some cooking today. Getting more of those plants into the garden calmed me some.
The Kermit Place Readers have an impromptu Zoom cocktail meeting on Thursdays. As everyone but me is in lockdown in NY, it is a good way to visit. When we have our book group meetings we try to stick to our knitting and talk about the book we have read. This gives us a chance to kibbitz without restraint. Today, though I will keep my involvement short as 4:30 to 7:00 is prime front yard gardening time.
I am not doing much yoga practice other than the training and a Zoom class on Sunday morning. I do think about it. I have a dim feeling that some of it is soaking in, somewhere, as a different approach to life. I really wanted to dance to Aretha this morning.
The milkweed did not make it. I have had that growing for about three years and those plants were large and robust. Back to the drawing board as I need to support those monarchs. They were in the corner of the yard where the basil plants have gone to wild seed. Oona likes to sleep there and it may have been she who destroyed the other plants with her stretches and sleeping.
PATIENCE
Patience is
wider than one
once envisioned,
with ribbons
of rivers
and distant
ranges and
tasks undertaken
and finished
with modest
relish by
natives in their
native dress.
Who would
have guessed
it possible
that waiting
is sustainable—
a place with
its own harvests
Or that in
time's fullness
the diamonds
of patience
couldn't be
distinguished
from the genuine
in brilliance
or hardness.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
April 16th
Had to start this morning with some Aretha Franklin which is really helps offset the disaster. I must admit to some disbelief at the depths of venality the GOP party shows. I am astonished and startled anew almost every day. I cannot think of their behavior as other than rape, dismemberment, and murder. How can it be that so many are so bereft of any sort of mercy, decency, or what I used to think of as humanity?
I started off with Aretha doing Day Dreaming, which is certainly something we can embrace in the face of the terrorists raping the USA. It is her version of Bridge Over Troubled Water that really grabbed me this morning (although now we are on to her versions of Ben E. King's Don't Play That Song (You Lied). I read somewhere that Paul McCartney wrote Let It Be for her.
Later that same morning.
I got all caught up in youtube videos for awhile there.
And again.
Lost my focus and now I am hungry. I have enjoyed not pressuring myself to go get things done. In an hour, Patrick and I are going to take our bikes to the open bike shop to get tuned up. It would be nice to bike ride while the traffic is so low.
Yesterday did end up being acceptably productive. I have a couple of major tasks like finishing a thorough kitchen and bathroom clean and finishing the laundry I started. But the my sheets got changed and how sweet it was to enjoy the smooth coolness when I got into bed, late, but not too late, last night. I need to get onto some cooking today. Getting more of those plants into the garden calmed me some.
The Kermit Place Readers have an impromptu Zoom cocktail meeting on Thursdays. As everyone but me is in lockdown in NY, it is a good way to visit. When we have our book group meetings we try to stick to our knitting and talk about the book we have read. This gives us a chance to kibbitz without restraint. Today, though I will keep my involvement short as 4:30 to 7:00 is prime front yard gardening time.
I am not doing much yoga practice other than the training and a Zoom class on Sunday morning. I do think about it. I have a dim feeling that some of it is soaking in, somewhere, as a different approach to life. I really wanted to dance to Aretha this morning.
The milkweed did not make it. I have had that growing for about three years and those plants were large and robust. Back to the drawing board as I need to support those monarchs. They were in the corner of the yard where the basil plants have gone to wild seed. Oona likes to sleep there and it may have been she who destroyed the other plants with her stretches and sleeping.
 |
| Clematis. |
Patience is
wider than one
once envisioned,
with ribbons
of rivers
and distant
ranges and
tasks undertaken
and finished
with modest
relish by
natives in their
native dress.
Who would
have guessed
it possible
that waiting
is sustainable—
a place with
its own harvests
Or that in
time's fullness
the diamonds
of patience
couldn't be
distinguished
from the genuine
in brilliance
or hardness.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
 |
| Copyright Barry Blitt, posted without permission. |
Paul McCartney wrote Let It Be for his mother who came to him in a dream and told him in a soothing voice to "just let it be"...
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