THE DAY'S STATIONS

 55 of 100daychallenge

McCoy looks deep in thought. Perhaps he can do my writing for me.

Where does my inspiration go? I think it dissipates with the requests of the day and when I finally sit down in the quiet to do my discipline, I am not in at finest nor most astute. 

The first heat wave is upon us and our air conditioning is not up and running yet. We have a few fans and that would be enough had we screens to keep in the Summer Avenue Feline Regulars. It would be lovely right now to have my desk windows open, but they are like guided fairies when it comes to fresh air and they would find a way out, even with me sitting here.

Joyce has a phrase early on in Ulysses: "making the day's stations." Yes, that I what I report on, the day's stations.

I did get some gardening done. Sebastian, our yardman, came over and finished cutting back the errant bougainvillea/passion flower vine. The birds and the butterflies were a bit pissed but there are still trees and flowers, they just have to change directions. Sebastian talked me into planting a Japanese maple, a tree I have long wanted. One of the neighbors down the way, Tony, came by to ask a question and then lingered to admire my Japanese maple and the other trees as well as the garden in general. It is too much of a work in progress to photograph, but it is nice to know that my efforts are appreciated in the 'hood. My house looks like a botanical garden compared to the other houses. 

I have four trees planted in the backyard (pomegranate, meyer lemon, lime, and tangelo), one in the on-deck circle (brown turkey fig), and one in a large pot (olive). In the front besides the terribly deciduous jacaranda, I now have the Japanese maple, black tulip magnolia, Brooks cherry, a Hong Kong orchid tree, and whatever the city planted. There's a very small red flowering dogwood in transit. There's every possibility it won't survive the heat, but all the other trees, it stays relatively cool in the front.

And, in other news, Heidi's yoga class started this evening. Although I practice in an informal class on Saturdays (sometimes), this felt very different. The room was really warm, so it felt like hot Hatha yoga. Although I teach the Domineers twice a week, I still feel "rusty" in yoga terms. Can't balance well. Hurts to do plank for long. Foot place for Warrior 2. These things were second nature and they have slipped. 

Did I mention it is hot? How about those closed windows? Did I mention that?

Hot cats cooling on porch.

AN ADDRESS TO THE VACATIONERS AT CAPE LOOKOUT

The whole weight of the ocean smashes on rock;

the sun hounds the night; gulls ravel the edge.

Here it is better to allow for what happens, all of it—

the part assumed, the lie that keeps a rendezvous

with proof, the wickerwork that disguises the iron.

This place is too real for that blame

people pin on each other, for honor or dishonor.

       Have you noticed how uninvited

       anything pure is? Be brave—there is such a thing

       as helping history get on with its dirty work.

When the home folks tell you goodbye,

they shouldn’t bid you goodbye that corrupted, wise way,

or burden you with too great a gift; and I

wouldn’t burden you, except with one great gift:

the cold, the world that spins in cold space—

to be able to walk away, not writhe in regret

or twist in the torture bush. After all,

there is such a thing as justice in friendship.

       Have you noticed how uninvited

       anything pure is? Here something big lifts us

       outside, scorns our bravery or fear.

What disregards people does people good.

— William Stafford, The New Yorker, August 22nd, 1964