it arrived! Beauty Full. a work of art. a work of Love. Everything about it….its size, its format, its cover that looks and feels like a table cloth from the past….when those things mattered. She loves. She loves what she is writing about, what she wants to tell us, what she wants us to know.
we'll play it by ear.
got there by 8. Was called to pick her up 1:45 . This is about it. it's 7 something. I had to lift her out of the vehicle. NO jumping of any kind. Help her get in the one step inside here. Her pile of stuff is just inside the door, well, everything is just inside the door…as, inside is just inside. She lay down. I helped her up and out door and we walked, one single step at a time to the Curry House to feed Goats at 5. On leash. She stood , took a few steps into the corridor, came back and stood. Finished, we walked back one single step at a time, helped her in and she's been as above since. They sent her home with medication to keep her like this. 2 or 3 times a day as needed. The playing by ear…. This is probably also part due to the anesthetic of surgery and also, she is in pain. And, so we go. Oh, Minnow….I wish we didn't need to do this……..
not about the surgery, but about how we work it days following. Her need to be uhhhh, subdued. Not anything she might ever imagine happening….what about her tennis ball????????? Why won't I throw it????????? There are at least several days ahead tho of 100% rain…. when she'd be stuck inside anyway. We'll do the best we can.
this little pad. She called it a tablet. Looking for the instructions of the space heater…there it was…bottom back of the drawer. I haven't seen it since New Mex. Thought for sure it'd gotten lost in the shuffle.
was my grandmother's. My father, grand father and a man named Mr. Curtis built the house we moved to, from the apartment in Detroit, when I was probably 6. It was two story but the first was built into the hill, it's front half, only the windows above ground. Back, open. Half of that downstairs was like an apartment where my grandparents lived. My father's parents. Other half garage, work shop / laundry room. In order to get there, you had to walk through their living room and kitchen area. In the narrow space of the kitchen there was a large ornate brass free standing bird cage. It did have a dome cage cover but that was rarely in place. It was just a circle platform with a large perch. Where Polly hung out. My grandfather had worked on the Panama Canal as an electrician in the early years of their marriage. Brought him back as a gift for my grandmother. He was big. Now and then when I was going through, she would stop me. Show me how if she gave him a pencil he would take it with his foot, lift it and snap it in two with his beak. On the way back through she'd stop me again and ask me if I wanted to shake hands with Polly. The answer had to be yes. So as instructed i'd extend my index finger and she would take hold of my hand, lift it up and Polly would take it in his foot, lean his head down, the pupils of his eyes dilating/contracting rapidly …hesitate and then shake my hand , his crazy cackle and say Hello. My finger was the size of the pencil. This same walk through area, a drop leaf table with a drawer. Where this pad and a few pencils were kept, she sharpened the pencil with a pocket knife, it's point was square and blunt. When she'd write on the little pad, she'd first touch the point of the pencil to the tip of her tongue. Was for her grocery list. I always loved it. Something about it. I love it now. same something about it. 3×5 an unrefined paper, kinda the color of unbleached coffee filters, and come to think of it, the paper is kinda like that too. Do these pads still exist? Does anyone know? Maybe it's the last one in the world.
why? what does this mean to me? 'Why, have I come back over and over to sit and look at it…. What might be the concerns of these women? I'n sure they have them
Year 7 here in California. How it is for me.: have not shifted to Rain Season. I wake, way too early. it's still dark. and these days are upon us. out there…I mean….in the "world". Often it's raining. cold. and it's way too early and as I have all my life, I bring into consciousness, out of sleep, all the things I might need to worry about or need immediate attention. now days….it's hard. So then there's the first tea. and then the relatively new routine of the Little Sleep. Always about 20 minutes and then, wake to Begin Again. Let it all settle and wait for some balance. Second tea and on with the day. I don't know what I want to say here with this post.
Rain or no rain, a lot of the days are about Goats. When I can feed them, how are they all fairing, where are they sleeping, do they seem easy with it all????? I am aware of them all day and night. I guess because of my own sense of vulnerability. Taking care of them, I take care of my Self. and this time around it's Onday. She's old. of the original herd in New Mex. Snowbunny's daughter. For whatever reason I don't know, she has always been my favorite. Not because our relationship has been remarkable in any way…but I guess just because for whatever reason, I love her. She was bred only once. Wasn't a great mother. Did what she needed to do then moved on. Would not participate in being milked. but she was a herd boss. Made decisions. called the shots. was good at that. Her and Oona but at first, her. Today she's beginning to distance herself from the rest of them but still makes her place at the feed bowl. I watch. But generally, I watch them because I love watching them. And then, there's Minnow now….we do the tennis ball thing. Over and over I throw. Over and over she returns. Off and on through a day. Puppy when she feels like it. The rest of days are mine and this Hill. The Beauty and the Joy. Always that. Even through Rain. There is always Beauty and Joy. So…..when it seems that this country is falling apart, life here is still the same as ever. And while it is, what I CAN do is remain witness to the unspeakable cruelty happening to some already and look for ways I might find for solidarity with them, the Haitian community in Springfield Ohio. Watch for those who might hold us through in the next times…research, Are they who they say they are? Harry Dunn????? Continue to look for opportunities for kindness in my infrequent forays into this small world. Appreciate all that comes through this blog…US. Love US. I am so grateful.
I re read what i've written here. I am missing the point. but i'm not sure what the point is. So, enough for today. This is the meantime. So, in the meantime…….
very old. heavy. warm. as in, W a r m. Big Pink. it somehow seems like years ago since she's been "out". though I know it would have been last year. and yes. She was where i'd imagined her to be…the very bottom of that far bin in the bathroom closet. Bed is made for tonight. first the Tina, then Her, then Little Grey. Close cotton then 2 Wool. perfect.
Go look at Marti's comment on yesterday's post. Truly Wonder Full.
Day was odd. Rain off and on which means there was no rain off and on but the day was gray , the sky hung low.
SO many feelings and none of them going so far as to become thoughts, and on until I read Nancy's post today in Pomegranate Trail. OH…., ok. I was still caught in yesterday. The every two week or so foray into town…Post Office, Dollar Store etc. Before I left, and really the day before, I realized I was curious about how it all might FEEL, off the Hill…down there in the world. It was the first time since the election. Would I be able to notice any difference in vibe? and if so, what might be my response. I thought I would go with the intention to be kind. open to looking at anything. Noticing. I thought that maybe other people might be wondering too. And I had 4 very specific experiences of this. Two with homeless people 2 and really 3 in the Dollar Store. and tho all were very different from one another, all were…….well, there was Goodness. With one, a maybe 40 yr old guy in the check out, which was the longest and involved several people waiting in line, I found myself explaining that "I want to take any opportunity to be (and here I paused….choosing a word…not kindness but nice) nice. Because it feels good." and that's when others in line chimed in…yes! they said.
so…somehow, reading Nancy's thoughts, I realized this. I came away tonight with these particular words of hers…."I ponder where I fall into the world of everybody" and "not everybody can go incognito"
windthread 