Cosmic Egg (Carrie Elkin)

When last we left our SheRa, we were going to Sunday brunch at Nancy's, which of course was absolutely lovely.  By that time, we were a Party o' 15 or so, much more intimate such that we could all engage in one conversation, vs. many little side-talks.  Nice.  One topic of the day was reconciliations, and we heard about one in progress, and another that had happened years ago, at Eric's urging, actually.  The ripple effect continues.

When we left, some people headed to the airport, and others on the road home, and Chico and I headed back to the condo and, as promised, Linda with us.  She and I went out to dinner at E's favorite restaurant (which I discovered after I read Crying in H Mart), and we both had veggie bibimbap, which Linda very much enjoyed, and then we went to bed early.

Monday was very low-key, and we spent many hours on the balcony, talking and crying, and enjoying the cooler-than-usual temps.  We had the great pleasure of picking Colin up from Kindergarten about 2:45, whereupon he ran around and played soccer with his usual group of friends, shaking their sillies out for another hour, then segueing to Sarah's.

The plan that evening was to recreate our Joni Jam experience at The Gorge in Washington State, and the first order of business was making Wachos (which we had the night of the concert) for dinner.  They were even better the second time around!  I had thought we'd have to piece together individual YouTube videos, figuring out the chronology but darned if we didn't find the full concert, start-to-finish and, because Sarah was tired, we watched about 1/3 of it there and the remainder when we got back to my place.  So very amazing to see it again.  Yep, we were "a fallen constellation" indeed... 🌠

Tuesday found us with a To Do List, the main one being to head to the Hope Garden, whereupon we would plant some Blood Lily bulbs that Linda had brought from her yard, in Eric's memory.  We found the perfect spot in the Perennial Garden, and I will provide an unassuming plaque or marker to designate the spot as sacred ground.

Then on to Parlour Vegan (I remembered I still had a giftcard from Nancy for my August birthday!), and we purchased a variety of empanadas, a "pepperoni" pesto pasta salad for dinner, and a few cupcakes (yum to them all... 😋)

Before indulging, though, Linda helped me transplant all the greenery in what I *thought* was an artificial arrangement basket into window boxes and pots for my catwalk and balcony.  We also planted the remaining blood lily bulbs into pots for me and Chico... Sarah... and Rob. 

Linda left for airport at 5 this morning, and Chico and I walked her downstairs to her car.  We all cried.  Today has been Stay-In-My-Nightgown-All-Day Day.  Well-deserved.  Sad.  Tired.  

P.S.  As I stated above, I was on the balcony for hours Monday morning, I went inside for a few minutes and, when I came back outside, what song do you think was playing on the soundsystem down by the pool?  Three Little Birds... 🐦🐦🐦 I hollered for Linda to come out and listen, to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.  Yet another visitation.  Hi, E... 💖

SONG:  Cosmic Egg by Carrie Elkin

BOOK:  One Thousand Days and One Cup of Tea: A Clinical Psychologist's Experience of Grief by Vanessa Moore

POEM:  A Bowl of Hydrangeas by James Crews

I stand at the sun-struck window

for several minutes longer than I wish,

until I see how the hydrangeas seem

to absorb the light and give it back,

even when cut from the living plant

on which they first came into bloom.

We are like this too in our grief—

separated from loved ones, stunned

and confused, yet glowing with some

new kinship to all things, including

this cluster of pink and white flowers

I reach out and touch, rubbing petals

between my fingers to remember

I have a body, I am still so alive.

QUOTE(S):  ““If happiness is a skill, then sadness is, too. Perhaps through all those years at school, or perhaps through other terrors, we are taught to ignore sadness, to stuff it down into our satchels and pretend it isn’t there. As adults, we often have to learn to hear the clarity of its call. That is wintering. It is the active acceptance of sadness. It is the practice of allowing ourselves to feel it as a need. It is the courage to stare down the worst parts of our experience and to commit to healing them the best we can. Wintering is a moment of intuition, our true needs felt keenly as a knife.” ~ Katherine May, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times

“We have a tendency to think in terms of doing and not in terms of being. We think that when we are not doing anything, we are wasting our time. But that is not true. Our time is first of all for us to be. To be what? To be alive, to be peaceful, to be joyful, to be loving. And that is what the world needs most.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Hallelujah (HAIM)

Okay, raise your hand if you're tired of me saying:  "It's been one month... six weeks... three months... [fill in unit of time measurement here] since my last confession... um... blog post".  I've been busy but I've also been cocooning, if that makes a bit of sense.  RHG and I were talking the other night, reminiscing about the years I suffered from Full Plate Syndrome, and I worked hard to eventually scrape many things off my dish.  I laughed that now, when I add something, it's not a heaping helping of mashed potatoes, but more along the lines of one... pea... at... a... time.  And I'm good with that... 😍

I recently attended a livestream with Anna Quindlen, moderated by Kelly Corrigan (more about her in an upcoming Mother's Day post).  I have been following AQ's writing since first reading her Life in the 30's column when we lived in Puerto Rico (1985-1989), followed by her novels as well as non-fiction works.  There's just something about her "voice" that is simple yet beautiful; her new book (non-fiction) is called Write for Your Life (see link below), and is geared to those who love to write but don't do it professionally.  I related to so many things she said, especially:  "I don't send you a letter to *tell* you something; I send you a letter to *give* you something."  Whoa.  Wow.  Goosebumps.

If you are a friend, or a follower of my blog, or both... you are long familiar with my can't-do-anything-in-25-words-or-less philosophy.  I mean... I can, but I don't want to... not when there's a whole language and vocabulary out there just waiting to be used and highlighted.  This is where I shine; I have missed writing... and her livestream fueled my desire to get back to blogging too, even if only once a week.  

So, here I am.  Rather than recap from where I left off (mid-February... really?!?), I will Begin Again... in the Now... possibly sharing tidbits of that Bermuda Triangle of lost time... or maybe not.  Life is pretty d*mn lovely.  I still read, walk, garden, hug my Colin, sip my hot tea, count my blessings.  Hope there is joy in your days as well, whether bestowed-by-The-Universe magical or earned-tooth-and-nail (equally valued).

It is indeed Feel Good Friday and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten/enlighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ MacKenzie Scott Has Pledged to Donate Half Her Net Worth to Charity:  It's a pledge her ex-husband, Jeff Bezos, has yet to make.

~ Love the Hit Game Wordle? Try BRDL, a Bird-Inspired Spinoff:  The daily word quiz that has taken the internet by storm now has a version for birders. Just make sure you know your banding codes.

~ Break a Leg but Never Whistle: How Stage Superstitions Live On:  The return of the Scottish play (that’s “Macbeth” to the rest of you) is a reminder of the idiosyncratic rituals and routines that bring actors comfort.

~ The Best Teas, According to Wirecutter’s Obsessive Staff:  A great cup of tea can make everything better. Even though tea is not as popular as coffee in the US, we think it deserves its place as the second-most widely consumed beverage in the world (water being the first). 

~ 70+ Perennial Vegetables to Plant Once and Harvest for Years:  Edible perennial gardening is a way to grow delicious crops while saving time, money, and effort. 

NR:  One Two Three by Laurie Frankel

SONG:  Hallelujah by HAIM

BOOK:  Write for Your Life by Anna Quindlen 

POEM:  What You Missed That Day You Were Absent From Fourth Grade by Brad Aaron Modlin

Mrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen

to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas,

how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took

questions on how not to feel lost in the dark

After lunch she distributed worksheets

that covered ways to remember your grandfather’s

voice. Then the class discussed falling asleep

without feeling you had forgotten to do something else—

something important—and how to believe

the house you wake in is your home. This prompted

Mrs. Nelson to draw a chalkboard diagram detailing

how to chant the Psalms during cigarette breaks,

and how not to squirm for sound when your own thoughts

are all you hear; also, that you have enough.

The English lesson was that I am

is a complete sentence.

And just before the afternoon bell, she made the math equation

look easy. The one that proves that hundreds of questions,

and feeling cold, and all those nights spent looking

for whatever it was you lost, and one person

add up to something.

QUOTE(S):  "When you recover or discover something that nourishes your soul and brings joy, care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life." ~ Jean Shinoda Bolen

“We have a tendency to think in terms of doing and not in terms of being. We think that when we are not doing anything, we are wasting our time. But that is not true. Our time is first of all for us to be. To be what? To be alive, to be peaceful, to be joyful, to be loving. And that is what the world needs most.”

Thich Nhat Hanh 

“Doing those deeply unfashionable things—slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting—is a radical act now, but it is essential. This is a crossroads we all know, a moment when you need to shed a skin. If you do, you’ll expose all those painful nerve endings and feel so raw that you’ll need to take care of yourself for a while. If you don’t, then that skin will harden around you.” ~ Katherine May

Christmas Everyday (The Frights)

As per my post a few weeks ago... I seem to have lost my concentration a lot lately (ha ha ha ha ha!).

A dear friend recently said:  "Sometimes this COVID life feels like Groundhog Day, one pretty much identical day after the other", which I think is a spot-on description.  It's been described as Corona Fatigue, and we're all just so d*mn tired, both physically and emotionally, that it's easy to let go of our safety standards of masks and social distancing... but, this is why the numbers of illnesses are creeping up again, and why 300,000 people are needlessly dead.  Stay the course, people!

This has definitely been a weird holiday season, and I personally have felt no desire to decorate.  What's the point, when the only person who's been inside our condo since mid-March is the Total A/C guy?  I did at least visit our storage unit down the hall and dragged out the Jingle Bell wreath and the Joy doormat for our front door/entrance.  From the outside, we appear festive... :-)

The Santas will not be making an appearance this year, but I have vowed to head back to the storage unit, rummage through the Rubbermaid containers, and find:  the Santa hat for my Buddha; a few holiday candles; holiday gift bags (I did buy presents that need wrapping, you know!); and the ceramic light-up tree that always reminds me of my mom's.  Okay, maybe a few holiday mugs, the better to drink my hot cocoa with vegan marshmallows and a splash of Kahlua in.  Maybe a holiday dishtowel or two.  Okay, that's it!  No more!  Just trying to walk that fine line between Ho Ho Ho and Bah, Humbug.

And, of course, typing all this, I am reminded of the passage from How the Grinch Stole Christmas:

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,

stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? 

It came without ribbons. It came without tags. 

It came without packages, boxes or bags. 

And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. 

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. 

What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. 

What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

I think many hearts will grow three sizes this holiday season and, as much as we will miss certain traditions and regret the opportunity to gather in larger numbers, we will cherish who and what we have to be grateful for, and count our blessings that we are not among the 300,000... and we will continue to strive for non-fear-based precautions, knowing we are making smart decisions to find our way to the other side of this, however and whenever that is defined.

For now, let's just find whatever coping mechanisms work for us, and enjoy this special time of year the best we can... 💖 

NR:  Conjure Women by Afia Atakora

SONG:  Christmas Everyday by The Frights

BOOK:  Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May

POEM: Next by Jeffrey Harrison

It wasn't until we got the Christmas tree

into the house and up on the stand

that our daughter discovered a small bird's nest

tucked among its needled branches.

Amazing, that the nest had made it

all the way from Nova Scotia on a truck

mashed together with hundreds of other trees

without being dislodged or crushed.

And now it made the tree feel wilder,

a balsam fir growing in our living room,

as though at any moment a bird might flutter

through the house and return to the nest.

And yet, because we'd brought the tree indoors,

we'd turned the nest into the first ornament.

So we wound the tree with strings of lights,

draped it with strands of red beads,

and added the other ornaments, then dropped

two small brass bells into the nest, like eggs

containing music, and hung a painted goldfinch

from the branch above, as if to keep them warm.

QUOTE:  "The thing about Christmas is that it almost doesn't matter what mood you're in or what kind of a year you've had - it's a fresh start." ~ Kelly Clarkson