Rise (Katy Perry)

An amazingly great week, such that I've posted twice (which hasn't happened in a while).  Busy, too!  

Monday was Zoom with Nancy and Judi, moved from our usual Tuesday because Nance and I headed up to SusanP's for Beach Day on Tuesday (it's been a while, because SP went back to the classroom in January, taught three weeks of summer school, and is just now free again, but only for a few weeks until she starts back teaching on August 9); babysat Colin Monday night; Wednesday morning the aforementioned get-together with Cynthia; Thursday lunch with Eric (his birthday was Wednesday, but he had to work), a library pick-up, and an afternoon phone chat with Michele... 💗

I've volunteered to nanny/governess/Lala this weekend for Colin so Sarah can attend both Dave Matthews' concerts in West Palm Beach (I will go up with her this afternoon to hang with the little guy tonight and Saturday, returning Sunday morning; we're staying with friends of hers who have a pool and, much as I'll miss attending the show, which I used to do with her years ago, it will be a bit of a vacation for me, not to mention a chance to hang with my darling grandbaby!

I haven't watched much of the Olympics, but I'm inspired by what I have seen, and read, and what others have reported back.  Proud of Simone Biles for giving herself time and space from all the pressure.  Very cool that skateboarding is now an Olympic sport.  See article below about Pink and the Norwegian women's handball team.  Our DVRs are full, we're all losing sleep, and "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat" is a cliche for a reason.  Especially since the Summer Games were cancelled last year because of the pandemic, it's more than a bit heartwarming to escape, even for a few moments, from Delta variants, long COVID, and anti-vaxxers.  

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

~ Medals That Were Won Not in Pentathlon or 100 Meters, but in Iambic Pentameter:  But few people today recall that poetry, just like the 100 meters, was an official Olympic competition from 1912 to 1948. Sadly, the names of the medal winners are not listed on the International Olympic Committee’s rosters. (When I read the poem below, I of course had to Google the epigraph and d*mn if it's not true.  Wow!)

~ Jill Biden, Changing the Fashion Game:  Cheering the American Olympians, the first lady broke with recent sartorial customs.

~ Pink offers to pay fines for Norwegian women’s beach handball team:  European Handball Federation fined players €1,500 for wearing shorts instead of bikini bottoms

~ How to Get Things Done When You Don’t Want to Do Anything:  The drive to be your best can be hard to muster right about now. Here are some ways to get your mojo back.

~ Vegan Cinnamon Roll Chair Cinnaholic to Nearly Double in Size with 60 New Locations:  Cinnaholic—which offers an array of customizable vegan cinnamon rolls—has 60 new locations in development across the United States and Canada.  (Um, hello... there's already a Cinnaholic in Coral Springs, and no one thought to tell me?!?  Can you say Road Trip?... 😍 )

SONG:  Rise by Katy Perry

BOOK:  Total Olympics: Every Obscure, Hilarious, Dramatic, and Inspiring Tale Worth Knowing by Jeremy Fuchs

POEM:  Taking Your Olympic Measure by Alberto Ríos

—Poetry was an Olympic event from 1912-1948.

Think of the records you have held:

For one second, you were the world’s youngest person.

It was a long time ago, but still.

At this moment, you are living 

In the farthest thousandth-of-a-second in the history of time.

You have beaten yesterday’s record, again.

You were perhaps the only participant,

But in the race to get from your bedroom to the bathroom, 

You won.

You win so much, all the time in all things.

Your heart simply beats and beats and beats—

It does not lose, although perhaps one day.

Nevertheless, the lists of firsts for you is endless—

Doing what you have not done before,

Tasting sake and mole, smelling bergamot, hearing

Less well than you used to—

Not all records are for the scrapbook, of course—

Sometimes you are the best at being the worst.

Some records are secret—you know which ones.

Some records you’re not even aware of.

In general, however, at the end of a long day, you are—

Unlikely as it may seem—the record holder of note.  

QUOTE:  "Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable." ~ Mary Oliver

Bowl of Oranges (Bright Eyes)

Last Friday, I promised to elaborate on "two perfectly-made-for-me opportunities presented on the proverbial silver platter" at a later date... and that time is now!

~ Okay, I still adore Anne Lamott, and Patricia Lockwood, and Maizy Rae Bukalele... but Cynthia is my new spirit animal!  I was with her for three hours this morning, and she shared her time, energy, and passion with me.  From avocado gleaning (we harvested 2 crates/70 lbs. worth and dropped them off at a local food bank) to fire cider (she gave me her recipe!) to CSAs (starts up in the winter, and I plan to join), and everything in between, I learned so much, and will also begin working in the community garden every Thursday.  As I said:  Mind Blown!

I am excited about life again, re-emerging from my comforting dormancy to challenging growth, with this new connection making me feel that I am exactly where I need to be, finding the balance between doing well and Doing Good.

Cynthia is writing a few books:  the focus of one is Sustainable Ways to Make the Community Better (she is most definitely a conscious bridger, which Dar talks about!), another a cookbook (for some of the less common foods that are able to be grown prolifically in our area), and a few e-books about herbs and their uses for illness/health/women/aging, etc.  She does speaking engagements, teaches classes, sells the fire cider, tinctures, herbs, plants, seeds, etc. from her home.  What an inspiration, and I am beyond excited to contribute my enthusiasm as well as skillsets to The Caring Community!

~ Then, my friend Sandy, knowing of my obsession with language as well as my craving for intentional connection, told me about this project, which spoke to me too.  "We’re willing to bet you’re just like us— eager to make a difference and craving a chance to use your words for good. We hope you know you serve a purpose here and that your words do count. If you’re looking for ways to start shaking up the world today, browse our ways to get involved..."  I just bought the very cool Sun Science stamps and, having no commitments tomorrow (after a very busy last three days), will sit down and write to all five spotlighted recipients (with five new prospects each month).  The World Needs More Love Letters indeed... 💞

My gifts of “time and talent" (I *did* donate "treasure" to various causes/organizations/individuals throughout the pandemic) have gone under the radar during these last 18 months... and it feels like a new day, month, year... 💫

NR:  Blacktop Wasteland by S. A. Crosby

SONG:  Bowl of Oranges by Bright Eyes (thanks to my son Rob for the heads-up to this song... 💓)

BOOK:  Planting a Rainbow by Lois Ehlert

POEM(S):  The Seven Of Pentacles by Marge Piercy

Under a sky the color of pea soup

she is looking at her work growing away there

actively, thickly like grapevines or pole beans

as things grow in the real world, slowly enough.

If you tend them properly, if you mulch, if you water,

if you provide birds that eat insects a home and winter food,

if the sun shines and you pick off caterpillars,

if the praying mantis comes and the ladybugs and the bees,

then the plants flourish, but at their own internal clock.

Connections are made slowly, sometimes they grow underground.

You cannot tell always by looking what is happening.

More than half the tree is spread out in the soil under your feet.

Penetrate quietly as the earthworm that blows no trumpet.

Fight persistently as the creeper that brings down the tree.

Spread like the squash plant that overruns the garden.

Gnaw in the dark and use the sun to make sugar.

Weave real connections, create real nodes, build real houses.

Live a life you can endure: Make love that is loving.

Keep tangling and interweaving and taking more in,

a thicket and bramble wilderness to the outside but to us

interconnected with rabbit runs and burrows and lairs.

Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen:

reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in.

This is how we are going to live for a long time: not always,

for every gardener knows that after the digging, after

the planting,

after the long season of tending and growth, the harvest comes.

You See, I Want a Lot by Rainer Maria Rilke

You see, I want a lot.

Perhaps I want everything:

The darkness that comes with every infinite fall

And the shivering blaze of every step up.

So many live on and want nothing

And are raised to the rank of prince

By the slippery ease of their light judgments

But what you love to see are faces

That do work and feel thirst.

You love most of all those who need you

as they need a crowbar or a hoe.

You have not grown old,

And it is not too late 

To dive into your increasing depths 

where life calmly gives out its own secret.

QUOTE(S):  "The power of imagination makes us infinite." ~ John Muir

"In times to come, when we are all gone, people not yet born will walk in the sunshine of their own days because of what women and men did at this hour to feed the sick, to heal and to comfort.” ~ John Dwyer

All Shall Be Well (The Accidentals and Mary Gauthier)

S invited me for coffee at her home yesterday morning, along with her friend C, who used to live next door but has moved a few towns over.  They have been getting together every Thursday from 10 a.m. to noon for *many* years, and S felt C and I needed to meet (soulmates, she called us).  Confused yet?... 😍

D*mn!  The force is strong with those two.  I felt an instant connection, and it was the most delightful two hours I've spent in a very long time (other than reading - ha!).   The conversation was easy, entertaining, stimulating.  If you know me at all, you understand that I feel I am in the right place at the right time when everything just clicks.  So. Many. Clicks!  You will also recall that I believe there are no accidents (Synchronicity for the win).  It was honestly as if metaphorical stepping stones were appearing right before my very eyes (feet?), as one topic of discussion (boom!) led to something else (pow!) which unveiled another epiphany (bam!).

I have mentioned previously that, now I'm retired, job/career-wise as well as from the concert series, I've been struggling with re-finding my Life Purpose.  I know I have a lot to offer, but it's been on a back burner during the pandemic... and I'm now ready to shine my light and spirit back into the world again.

All this to say, I have been handed two perfectly-made-for-me opportunities on the proverbial silver platter, which I will discuss more in detail next week.  For now just let me say that I am throwing myself All In with both, at least a once-a-week commitment for now.  For the first time in a while, I am very Very VERY excited about the Future with a capital F... 💖

My sweet grandbaby Colin turned three years old this past Wednesday; he deserves a full blog post and, by god, he'll get it... next week!

Long-story-short (look for the Extended Dance Mix, also next week), my dear friend Melanie *finally* had her long-awaited kidney transplant and, because those operations are not cheap, our mutual friend Dave set up a GoFundMe page.  Please contribute if you're able... 💞

NR:  Heart Berries: A Memoir by Terese Marie Mailhot

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

~ Why Jane Goodall Still Has Hope for Us Humans:  Wherever the story of our natural world ultimately lands, Jane Goodall will have earned a proud place in its telling.

~ These vegan crayons are made from green onions, purple potatoes, corn, and other would-be wasted vegetables:  Created by a mother in Japan, the Vegetable Crayons use discarded vegetable waste to create safer and more eco-friendly crayons for kids. 

~ When My World Fell Apart, I Turned to Puzzles:  A woman found that when her life was unstable, jigsaw puzzles provided a reliable solution.

~ RealWomenRealSongs Season 3:  This page serves as home to 28 women. They are all songwriters and all committed to writing 52 songs this year.  Each week the women will be given a prompt to write their songs from. And on their specific day of the week, they will post their newly-written, untweaked songs RIGHT HERE for your listening pleasure.  We hope that you will follow their journey: the ups and downs, the writer's block, the grand successes when they get it right. AND we hope that in in watching them take risks and being vulnerable with their dreams, YOU will become inspired to create something of your own, be it a song, a painting, that book you've been dying to write...the possibilities are endless! 

~ What Matters in a Name Sign?  We look at the origins of name signs in deaf culture, including one recently assigned to Vice President Harris.

SONG:  All Shall Be Well by The Accidentals and Mary Gauthier

BOOK:  How Far You Have Come: Musings on Beauty and Courage by Morgan Harper Nichols

POEM:  I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone

    enough

to truly consecrate the hour.

I am much too small in this world, yet not small

    enough

to be to you just object and thing,

dark and smart.

I want my free will and want it accompanying

the path which leads to action;

and want during times that beg questions,

where something is up,

to be among those in the know,

or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,

never be blind or too old

to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.

I want to unfold.

Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;

for there I would be dishonest, untrue.

I want my conscience to be

true before you;

want to describe myself like a picture I observed

for a long time, one close up,

like a new word I learned and embraced,

like the everday jug,

like my mother's face,

like a ship that carried me along

through the deadliest storm.

QUOTE:  "Your imagination is your preview of life's coming attractions." ~ Albert Einstein

Cosmic Egg (Carrie Elkin)

Hey, Peeps!  I hope all is well.  If you have the time/energy/inclination, pop in below and offer up a comment (25-words-or-less or a lengthy treatise) on how you are doing... 💞

It's been quiet, here on the blog and in my real life... and I realized I not only don't mind, but I am actually loving it.  I shared a meme with someone the other day that said:  "People who say 'go big or go home' seriously underestimate my willingness to go home.  Like, it's literally my only goal."  Or, in my case, it's *stay* home.  The pandemic was the catalyst for me to channel my inner hermit, and I am feeling no desire to emerge from my cocoon, even now that it's safe to do so.  I have never feared alone time; rather, I actually relish it, probably going back to the days of when the children were small, my husband was traveling, I read the last bedtime story, shared the last sips of water, tucked everyone in, and then... silence.  Aaahhh!

I'm still ordering my groceries via Amazon (Whole Foods) and Instacart (Sprouts and Costco; continuing to boycott Publix!), Target is still the only store I have physically stepped foot in, still no live music opportunities (other than Dave's house concert a month or so ago).  I'm still scheduling catch-up phone calls once or twice a week with various friends (although this last week got away from me).  Inspired by the article on The Value of Letter Writing (below), I will toe-dip back into the world of actual penned correspondence soon... 😍

I did venture forth into the medical world last week to have a routine colonoscopy (it had been 11 years since my last one); there were not only *no* polyps, but my colon was declared "spic 'n span", and she said she'd see me in ten years (thankyoujesus).

I am not making as much progress as I'd like on my To Do (Ta Dah!) List, but I have been reading so many wonderful books (Brandi Carlile's memoir!), viewing some great British crime drama (thanks, Judi!), and cooking up so many delish dishes (the best curry I've ever put in my mouth!).

I was sad to hear that singer, songwriter, slide guitarist Ellen McIlwaine died a few weeks ago.  I discovered her in college (early-70s) and, in addition to her original work, was completely enamored with her cover of Blind Faith’s “Can’t Find My Way Home”.  Wow!

The pandemic has changed me in many ways and, for the record, I like "The New Me":  speaking up/pushing back more... a lower tolerance for things/people that don't bring me joy... feeling a greater need to live in/embrace the moment (probably spurred by the tragic collapse of Champlain Towers South in Surfside)... trusting my intuition of self-worth and self-confidence... the continued pursuit of brain challenges (NYT mini-crossword puzzle and Spelling Bee, Jeopardy, reading like a motherf*cker)... taking much better care of myself physically, emotionally, and spiritually... all adding up to more awareness/mindfulness in every aspect of my life.

N(ow)R(eading):  A long-distance friend and I began our own Party-of-Two book club a few months ago, taking turns choosing monthly selections.  My pick for July/our third is The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich, which was recently declared the 2021 Pulitzer Prize Winner in Fiction.

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

~ 50 Reasons to Love Joni Mitchell’s ‘Blue’:  The singer-songwriter questioned everything on her fourth album. Twenty-five musicians speak about the LP’s enduring power on its 50th anniversary.

~ LeVar Burton’s Quest to Succeed Alex Trebek:  If the right person catches the right project at the right time, the culture will always hold that person close. Do it three times, as LeVar Burton has done, and our relationship becomes something even deeper. 

~ If You Give a Mom a Cookie:  If you give a mom a cookie, she’ll ask whether you remembered to turn the oven off after you baked it.

~ Oliver Burkeman's last column: the eight secrets to a (fairly) fulfilled life:  After more than a decade of writing life-changing advice, I know when to move on. Here’s what else I learned


~ The Value of Letter Writing:  There are so many different kinds of letters that I’ve written and received over the years. I remember running to the mailbox as a child and as a teenager, glancing quickly through the stack to find my name, immediately turning the envelope to identify the sender—a girlfriend, boyfriend, crush, or my twelve-years-older brother who often lived elsewhere—and then running to a quiet place where I could read and re-read my letter in private. 

SONG:  Cosmic Egg by Carrie Elkin (Cosmic Egg symbolism, dreamwork, and meanings)

BOOK:  Hatching the Cosmic Egg by Michael J Dorer, Andrew Kutt (Composer), Beth Wilson (Illustrator)

POEM:  Born. Living. Will. Die. by Camonghne Felix

          for my favorite auntie, Jeanette

Sometimes I think I’m never going to write a poem again

and then there’s a full moon.

I miss being in love but I miss

myself most when I’m gone.

In the salty wet air of my ancestry

my auntie peels a mango with her teeth

and I’m no longer

writing political poems; because there are

mangoes and my favorite memory is still alive.

I’m digging for meaning but haunted by purpose

and it’s an insufficient approach.

What’s the margin of loss on words not spent today?

I’m getting older. I’m buying smaller images to travel light.

I wake up, I light up, I tidy, and it’s all over now.

  

[Camonghne Felix:  “This poem is an ode to my auntie, who is the freest person I know. In her garden in Antigua, she grows mangoes, which represent the sweetness of life and the serenity of self-sufficiency.”]

QUOTE:  "If life's journey be endless, where is its goal? The answer is, it is everywhere. We are in a palace which has no end, but which we have reached. By exploring it and extending our relationship with it we are ever making it more and more our own. The infant is born in the same universe where lives the adult of ripe mind. But its position is not like a schoolboy who has yet to learn his alphabet, finding himself in a college class. The infant has it own joy of life because the world is not a mere road, but a home, of which it will have more and more as it grows up in wisdom. With our road that gain is at every step, for it is the road and the home in one; it leads us on yet gives us shelter." ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Why (Annie Lennox)

No additional nor explanatory words from me today... but it is indeed Feel Good Friday, and I have some wonderful links to share.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Silver Linings:  The pandemic obliged—or enabled—many women to go gray. They’re still reckoning with the transformation.

~ Every song of the summer from the past 45 years:  Every year, there's a battle to see which song can claim the title of "the song of the summer."...  The jury is still out on which song will be this year's biggest hit, but we used Billboard's charts to choose the highest-ranking summer song for each year.  Whether or not you agree with the top song, here are the No. 1 summer songs from 1975 to 2020.


~ Victoria's Secret is overhauling its image. Is it enough to regain relevance?  Less than two years after Victoria's Secret pulled the plug on its star-studded annual fashion show, known for runway looks that combined strappy lingerie with enormous wings, the brand is retiring its supermodel "Angels" for good.

~ Summer reading: the 50 hottest new books everyone should read:  From missing lighthouse keepers to the healing power of trees ... 50 new fiction and nonfiction books to enjoy. Plus recent paperbacks to pack and the best children’s stories (thanks to SandyA for the heads-up!)

~ Why Won’t Anyone Help Me in This Sex Shop?  At 83, and legally blind, I could use some assistance.

SONG:  Why by Annie Lennox

BOOK:  Little Kids First Big Book of Why by Amy Shields

POEM:  Why by Robert Funge

You could call me obsessed

or a fool. There’s no future

turning your insides out

arranging words until they’re

comfortable with each other.

And the pay! Just this morning

a check arrived in the mail

for fifteen dollars, for a poem

it took forty years to write.

Standing on the corner

looking hungry and tired, the

Veteran of a Thousand Wars

does better on a bad day.

I show you

how I feel inside, how my daughter

whores for drug money, and my son

ransoms his future for a soul.

I tell you how my father

forgot my name, and my mother

went to the electric table

to have her mind rearranged.

I tell you how I prayed for grace

and was given pain, to show

that all prayers are answered.

I’ve shown you how I died

three times, yet here I am,

Lazarus and Buddha, my

victim and savior. All this

for fifteen dollars and a year’s

subscription. If I didn’t have a job

at the factory, sweeping floors

on the graveyard shift …

And I’ve shown

where I buried myself, covered

my walls with books and paintings,

how I talk to them and they say

This is what you’ve always wanted.

I am my prisoner and my warden.

I tell you how a passing image

makes me rise, and how love

leaves me cold. I sleep alone

in a king-size bed

and spill myself. I confess

in public. I publish my shame.

I don’t judge anymore.

I’ve forgotten how to pray, unless

this is a prayer.

And now I arrange my life

in code, knowing you decipher

more than I show.

They can keep

their fifteen dollars. They insult me!

All I want from life

is sainthood and some poems

that will last. I lied early:

the future is all there is. My gift

is my present to myself, this day’s

condensation of memory.

It saves my life.

[Robert Funge: “I live alone in a library. I’m retired and busier than ever. I write poems to make sense of the past, and because it’s fun. Always both. These poems reflect his life, his imagination and his idiocrasy.”]

QUOTE:  "The more often we see the things around us - even the beautiful and wonderful things - the more they become invisible to us. That is why we often take for granted the beauty of this world: the flowers, the trees, the birds, the clouds - even those we love. Because we see things so often, we see them less and less." ~ Joseph B. Wirthlin

Just Like That (Rachel Bissex)

[me, Dar, Reba:  Road Trip to St. Augustine for Dar's March 12, 2020 concert... the day before the world locked down for COVID]

R.I.P. dear friend; I found out about her passing from a post to the sf_folk list a week ago tonight.  The news hit me hard, and I continue to grieve as well as be comforted by the memories.  It is hard to imagine a world without Reba Heyman.  I remembered writing the following to a friend in late-August 2020 and, rather than reinvent the wheel, decided to copy and paste here:

"Before I get in the bath, I wanted to give you some backstory about Reba, and what I was doing today.

I first met Vic and Reba Heyman at the Albuquerque Folk Alliance in February 1999 (my first national conference, if you recall).  Vic and Reba were/are folk royalty.  Based out of Rockville Maryland, they have been on the folk scene for decades, financing many artists' CDs, not to mention careers.  

They are long-time fans of Dar Williams and, when Rachel Bissex passed away in February 2015, they did a tribute double-CD set, and Dar (and Patty Larkin) covered the song Rachel wrote about Vic and Reba, Just Like That.  Confused yet?

So, back to the Folk Alliance.  I crossed paths with Vic and Reba a handful of times; they always had reserved seats on the front row in all of the main showcase rooms.  When I came into one of the rooms, which was full, Reba patted the seat next to her, motioned me over, and said, "Vic is napping.  Please join me!"... and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

They started coming down for the South Florida Folk Festival each January, staying for a long weekend... and then a few weeks... and then a month... until they finally became snowbirds, arriving early-December and leaving late-March.  Vic passed away of Parkinson's Disease in January 2009, while they were still in Florida; he was in a coma a few weeks before he died, and I sat vigil with Reba a few times to keep her company, bringing sandwiches and mandarin oranges, or grapes, because I knew she wasn't leaving the room to eat.

The singer-songwriter Joel Raphael sent Reba a peace lily plant in condolence and, when she was headed back north for the spring, she asked if I would take care of it in her absence... and of course I said yes.  It is with honor as well as trepidation to have co-custody, in that, god forbid anything happens to it on my watch.  I've always sworn to myself that I would just go to the nursery, find a "color match", and no one else would be the wiser.  Thank goodness my theory has not been tested.

Reba is game for road trips, and has been my road buddy all the way to St. Augustine (twice) to see Richard Shindell and Dar Williams (stories for another time).  When she is in town, we do lunch regularly (at least we did, pre-pandemic), and concerts, and dinners with friends.  She turned 83 in March (2020).

She was in Florida when the coronavirus hit, and I checked in with her a few times a week, and asked her to send me her grocery list weekly, so that I could order via Instacart and then deliver to Plantation (about 25 minutes north), sitting on her patio and visiting a while after she put her perishables away.  She was grateful and I was glad to do it, thinking that, if my Mom were still alive, I would love to envision someone doing it for her.  She is fun, and funny, and good company, and often tells the same story, but 80% of the time I let her, and the other 20%, I say, "I love that story!".

Reba decided to go back to Maryland in early-July, one of the main reasons being that she was terrified to be here for hurricane season.  She hadn't been home more than two weeks when she slipped and fell on her stairs, breaking her shoulder, ending up in the hospital (thankfully no surgery required), then to a relative's home, then back to her house with around-the-clock home health aides.  Now her daughter Judy, who lives in San Francisco, has asked Reba to come stay with her (not sure if temporary or permanent), and she'll be flying out September 8.

All this to say (whew!), Reba is giving up her apartment in Florida, and has asked me and Dave to be in charge of sending clothes and special artwork to Judy's... and then distributing the remainder of dishes, glassware, CDs, furniture, lamps, etc. as we see fit... and today was Phase I.  We were super-productive, and we're going back tomorrow.  Yes, it's a lot of work... but it's Reba.

And that's why I'm taking a bath... :-) "

There is more to the story, but I just don't have the heart or the energy to finish it now.  Although I intuited from recent interactions that she was declining, Reba's death was unexpected, sudden, and heartbreaking.  I am inconsolable... and now I have full custody of the peace lily... ☮⚘

SONG:  Just Like That by Rachel Bissex (Rachel wrote this song about Vic and Reba... and Dar Williams covered it on Remembering Rachel, a tribute put together after Rachel's death, which Vic produced/assembled/publicized)... 💕

BOOK:  Notes on Grief by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

POEM:  While I Wait by Brooke James

At the sidewalk café

a white-haired man

asks for coffee, hot,

cream, no sugar.

His daughter touches his sleeve

and points—the cranberry scones 

in the glass case—

your favorite, remember?

His granddaughter splashes

in the ceramic dog bowl 

brimming with cool water 

on the porch step

where I sit shielding my eyes 

from the sun with a menu,

the salmon pink impatiens

in the clay pots tremble 

when a concrete mixer rumbles by,

spinning its vanilla and orange striped drum.

Look, I whisper to the little girl,

a swirled ice cream cone on wheels. 

Late August drifts by,

settles on my sun-warmed knees.

A friend of mine died 

last week, I say to no one

as I wait for you to cross the street,

waving as you come.

[Brooke James: “The poems that really stay with me are the ones in which the big and small moments of life intermingle. This is what I attempted to achieve with ‘While I Wait’: a late summer afternoon in a sidewalk café, made memorable by salmon pink petunias, the death of a friend, cool water in a dog bowl, and you crossing the street to meet me, your hand outstretched in greeting.”]

QUOTE:  "The meaning of life is to give and receive love.  Everything else is just the stage to do this on." ~ Sheryl Cattell

No Regrets (Friction Farm)

Good morning!  Has it really been two weeks since I last posted?  WTF?!?  It seems to have been a combination of reasons:  due to increased vaccinations (50% now!), things are opening up, which means there are more in-person get-togethers, which means I am out of the house more and not sitting at the laptop as much... also, my mood/attitude is good, but nothing has really jumped out to inspire me, meaning I've had to go mining for a a great song or poem, as opposed to the ones that usually throw themselves in my path, begging "Pick me!  Pick me!".

I'm staying busy... moving more, worrying less, sleeping well, eating healthy, still reading like a MF, addicted to The Handmaid's Tale (I read the book a bazillion years ago, and am so impressed with the Hulu adaptation!), regular phone chats with family and friends, obsessed with watermelon chunks as my late-night snack (ha ha!).

Still watching Jeopardy religiously (last week and this are the Tournament of Champions) and, I'm not going to lie, very glad that the cocky *sshole of quarterfinals fame ("for the kill"?  really?) lost Tuesday night in the semi-finals.  I know that's not very kind; oh f*cking well.

Redeemed my Mother's Day "coupon" with Sarah this past Sunday at Marando Farms; we had a lovely breakfast/brunch at their Twisted Tomato Cafe (their veggie hash is divine!), and then walked the petting zoo with Colin (I used to think goats were cute, but now I believe they're just annoying... 😲 )

Last week and this were: Karen's healing hands massage, taking a friend to a doctor's appointment, a few library pick-ups, my OverReaders Anonymous book club,  Pool Days with Nancy, Zooms with Nancy and Judi, a livestream with Tracy Grammer and Jim Henry (theme was animals), a few pick-ups of Colin from preschool.  Lunch with my son Rob today (since reading Crying in H Mart, I've been craving Korean food), then headed up to my former UU church for a memorial service (tragic series of events).

 

In the meantime, it is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ Eric Carle, Author of ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ Dies at 91:  A self-described “picture writer,” he wrote and illustrated more than 70 books for young children, selling more than 170 million copies.

~ ‘Dear Evan Hansen’: Watch the First Trailer for the Ben Platt Musical Movie:  Universal has released the first trailer for the “Dear Evan Hansen” movie, premiering in theaters on Sept. 24.  Ben Platt returns in his Tony-winning titular role in the big-screen adaptation of the Broadway musical hit created by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul.

~ What’s Your Rose, Thorn and Bud?:  This past year, as we’ve had sooooo many dinners as a family, we have started the age-old tradition of rose, thorn, bud. Want to play it? Here’s how it works…  Basically, everyone goes around and shares a rose (a positive thing that happened that day), a thorn (a negative thing that happened that day) and a bud (something they’re looking forward to).

~ Louvre Gets Its First Female Leader in 228 Years:  Laurence des Cars, who will become the president of the world’s most visited museum in September, shares some of her plans in an interview.

~ Spotify Playlist for Daisy Jones & The Six (a novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid): randomhousebooks, 26 songs, 1 hour 47 minutes

NR:  Take a Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert (god help me, this is my third romance novel in as many months.  Who am I, and what have I done with Susan?!?  However, how can one resist this bio?... 💖

"Talia Hibbert is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who lives in a bedroom full of books. Supposedly, there is a world beyond that room, but she has yet to drum up enough interest to investigate.  She writes steamy, diverse romance because she believes that people of marginalised identities need honest and positive representation. Her interests include makeup, junk food, and unnecessary sarcasm."

SONG:  No Regrets by Friction Farm (scroll 1/3 down to album cover of Evidence of Hope, click on album cover, click on arrow to navigate to track 8)

BOOK:  No Regrets Living: 7 Keys to a Life of Wonder and Contentment by Harley A. Rotbart MD

POEM:  Mad Farmer VIII by Wendell Berry

When I rise up

let me rise up joyful

like a bird.

When I fall

let me fall without regret

like a leaf.

QUOTE:  “Let go of who you thought you’d become.  Let go of the need to control.  Let go of the expectations that society has burdened you with.  Let go of disappointments, missed opportunities, and broken hearts.  Because only by letting go will you discover who you are becoming.” ~ Justin Shiels

Coming Alive Again (David LaMotte)

[So weird!  I went to upload this post last night about 8 p.m. and received an e-mail from Blogger; here's a snippet:

As you may know, our Community Guidelines describe the boundaries for what we allow-- and don't allow-- on Blogger. Your post titled "Coming Alive Again 

(David LaMotte)" was flagged to us for review. We have determined that it 

violates our guidelines and deleted the post, previously at 

http://optimisticvoices.blogspot.com/2021/05/coming-alive-again-david-lamotte.html. Your content has violated our Malware and Viruses policy. Please visit our Community Guidelines page linked in this email to learn more.

I completely freaked out, tried to recover it, thought about attempting to re-create it but it was late and I was tired, and then gave up in defeat, shutting down my computer completely, and vowing to solve/resolve in the morning.

Woke up today to this:

We have re-evaluated the post titled "Coming Alive Again (David 

LaMotte)" against Community Guidelines. Upon review, the post has been 

reinstated. You may access the post at 

http://optimisticvoices.blogspot.com/2021/05/coming-alive-again-david-lamotte.html.

What?!?  Whatever!  Thanks to Blogger for re-evaluating as well as validating that I made the right choice by not spending time troubleshooting last night, and for believing in the system such that it all eventually and easily came together (although I certainly didn't sleep well as a result).  First World Problems, right?  Happy Saturday... 💖 ]

Another full week:  weekly Zoom with Nancy and Judi, picked up sweet Colin from preschool and got to hang out for a while, three-hour (!) phone chat with dear college roomie Linda, belated-but-no-less-enjoyable Mother's Day dinner with Rob and Eric, pool with Nance, and this evening a Virtual LitLIVE! event with authors Kaitlyn Greenidge and Kirstin Valdez Quade.  Dinner and a movie in a few minutes:  Mixed root vegetable fries (carrot, parsnip, beetroot) and The Woman in the Window on Netflix.  Ooooh, it's a wild night in the Moss household... 😉

A few things on tap for the weekend, and we shall see how it all unfolds.  In the meantime, it is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ The Other Side of Languishing Is Flourishing. Here’s How to Get There:  Research shows that the pandemic took a toll on our overall well-being and left many of us drained. Here are seven simple steps to get you thriving again.


~ The Lure of H Mart, Where the Shelves Can Seem as Wide as Asia:  The huge grocery chain and other megastores like it have revolutionized the way many Asian-Americans shop and eat.


~ Colson Whitehead's Pulitzer Prize Winning Novel, The Underground Railroad on Amazon Prime:  From Academy Award® winner Barry Jenkins and based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Colson Whitehead, "The Underground Railroad" is a new series that chronicles Cora Randall’s desperate bid for freedom in the Antebellum South. After escaping a Georgia plantation for the rumored Underground Railroad, Cora discovers no mere metaphor, but an actual railroad beneath the Southern soil.

~ Welcome to Life Lessons:  This week, we revisit some admittedly out of context highlights from two interviews with singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell, the original Lady of the Canyon: first in August 1985, then in April 1991. Sit down, pull out your acoustic guitar—you just might learn a thing or two. 


~ Do We Even Know How To Socialize Anymore?  Zoom meetings. Virtual happy hours. Facetime dates. We've been living in a pandemic world for over a year now, and for better or worse, many of us are used to our new social routines.  But as vaccinations ramp up and restrictions begin to loosen across the country, the new question is: Are we ready? After so much time apart, do we even know how to socialize in person anymore?

NR:  Crying in H Mart: A Memoir by Michelle Zauner

SONG:  Coming Alive Again by David LaMotte

BOOK:  88+ Ways Music Can Change Your Life by Vincent James, Joann Pierdomenico, Jack Canfield (Foreword)

POEM(S):  To Be Alive by Gregory Orr

To be alive: not just the carcass

But the spark.

That's crudely put, but ...

If we're not supposed to dance,

Why all this music?

Say it With a Mix-Tape by Christopher Goodrich

These are the professionals. The ones who know

why birds suddenly appear every time you are near;

the self-assured idols who can ask Do you

want to know a secret oooooo waaaa oooooo?

without sounding stupid. I’ve begged

them to tell us why secrets are

given as gifts in obvious packaging.

So much of falling is sitting still, filling

a blank tape with voices of famous people—

the mystic warbling of Joni Mitchell,

the simple sex of Simon and Garfunkel.

This is what it sounds like to be me in love with you.

And because only Ray Charles, who sings from both sides now,

can translate my heart’s handwriting, I’ve included

two of his numbers, see side A, songs two and nine.

He will insist, as many times as you care to listen:

I’m gonna love you like nobody’s loved you come rain

or come shine, which, incidentally, is true, I’m gonna.

The Mix-Tape: proof that love loves James Brown, the reason

we turn to Nina Simone when sex fails to fulfill us,

why, when harmony is what is missing,

a light rhythmic rain begins to fall.

QUOTE:  "You must always believe that life is as extraordinary as music says it is." ~ Rebecca West

Rebel Girl (Bikini Kill)

[One-of-a-kind hand-stitched embroidery works by Amy Tingle, with a line of one of Maya Stein's 10-line Tuesday poems touching on motherhood.]

Today was one of the best Mother's Days I've had in quite a while although, truthfully, they're all pretty amazing, especially since my daughter Sarah has become a mom; I get immense pleasure seeing her in action, parenting Colin with such patience as well as joy.  He is so much like her, and she is so much like me, and I am so much like my mom.  The nut definitely does not fall far from the tree.

Both my sons are in the restaurant business so, since it's one of their busiest holidays, they were of course unable to join us (and we will celebrate another time), but we invited Sarah and Colin over for a Pool Day, and I ordered in advance the Mimosa Starter Kit/Mother's Day Brunch Box from Einstein Bagels (no muss, no fuss, no bother), which my husband picked up:

Lest you worry about my dietary/nutritional choices, I had vegan cream cheese, sprinkled with Everything But the Bagel seasoning, topped with vegan smoked salmon (yes, there is such a thing!), and felt completely satisfied!

Long-story-short is that Colin is obsessed with wild animals, and I gave him a wildebeest figurine this morning, and he had more fun teasing us all:  "Is it a warthog?  Noooooo, it's a wildebeest!" he said, multiple times, with a twinkle in his eye.  Hilarious!

I gave Sarah a few items related to Schitt's Creek (which she and Rob got me watching a few months ago):  a Fold In the Cheese dishtowel, a sideways S necklace (like Alexis' A), and an Ew David tank top, which was running late and naturally arrived after they'd left.

Her present to me was promise of brunch/lunch at a new local farmer's market, with lots of vegan options, maybe even this next weekend.  My husband gave me a giftcard to Chico's (one of my favorite clothing stores, which I haven't stepped foot in in over a year), and will enjoy redeeming.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to watch Moxie on Netflix and, halfway through, texted everybody I know to encourage them to view it as well.  Excellent film, which reminded me of my younger protesting days (as opposed to my older protesting days, ha!), and also my friend M's daughter K (my son Rob's age), who used to publish a 'zine in high school, to which I subscribed.  Today's blog post song came from the movie, which reminded me that, although I've certainly made my share of mistakes in life, if there's one thing I can say with absolutely certainty, it's that I have always been and continue to be a good mom.  I take great pride in knowing that I have instilled in my children all the important values:  thoughtfulness, compassion, generosity, kindness, integrity, the importance of equality and social justice (and working toward it), passion, a love of music and language/books, creativity, and a great sense of humor.  [S]he who laughs, lasts... 😄

SONG:  Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill ("That girl, she holds her head up so high, I think I wanna be her best friend, yeah")

BOOK:  Motherhood: Facing and Finding Yourself by Lisa Marchiano

POEM(S):  What Children Say by Kate Baer

I can’t reach my cup, my water bottle,

the snack up on the shelf. I can’t do

it. I won’t do it. I would never do it

in a million years. You need to help

me. Help me faster. Do it the way

I asked you to. I don’t like pizza or

watermelon. I don’t like anything I

liked before. I do not want it. I do

not need it. I will never move up off

this floor. Do not help me. Do not

hold me. Do not sit down beside my

bed. I’m not sleeping. I’m not tired.

I’m too scared to fall asleep. You must

hold me. You must rock me. Do not

leave me all alone. I am thirsty. I am

hungry. I am too tired to put my toys

away. Do not be angry. Do not start

singing. Where is the butterfly I drew?

I’m still hungry. I’m still playing. Will

you leave me? Will you stay?

What Mothers Say by Kate Baer

I am tired. I am sleeping. I am heading

up to bed. Is it Tuesday? What’s tomorrow?

When’s the last I slept alone?

I am thinking. I am talking. Do you see

I’m on the phone? Bring the dishes, find

your blanket, put that book back on the

shelf. It is bedtime. It is rest time. You

need to go and brush again. I am working.

I am eating. This is why we bought you

toys. Go and play now, find your brother,

find elsewhere to make your ship. I am

angry, you’re not listening. Please stop

crying on the floor. It’s a school night.

Do your homework. Let me come and

scratch your back. I am listening. I can

hear you. Thanks for telling me the

truth. Let me closer, let me help you.

I am here now. Let me stay.

Stronger That You Know by Kate Baer

My friend’s young daughter tells her mother:

you’re stronger that you know.

We repeat this, even though it doesn’t make

sense. We say it to cheer each other up. We

say it, knowing how much harder it is: that vs.

than. One suggests it was always inside you.

The other suggests it’s better you’ve learned

the coin can flip either way.

We tell our daughters they can be anything.

We call them warrior, fierce, and brave

as if they arrive in war paint and heels

to fight off our old demons.

And when they suffer, which they do

we offer our consolations:

This is a part of it.

Take a deep breath.

Look at you kicking your legs.

Moon Song by Kate Baer

You are not an evergreen unchanged 

by the pitiless snow. You are not a photo, 

a brand, a character written for sex or 

house or show. You do not have to choose 

one or the other: a dream or a dreamer, the 

bird or the birder. You may be a woman of 

commotion and quiet. Magic and brain.

You can be a mother and a poet. A wife and 

a lover. You can dance on the graves you dug 

on Tuesday, pulling out the bones of yourself 

you began to miss. You can be the sun and the 

moon, the dance a victory song.

QUOTE:  "When a mother somewhere forgives herself for being human, earth exhales a little." ~ Breeze

Work Hard and Be Nice (Michael Franti & Spearhead)

Other than a pesky crick in the left side of my neck (caused by a two-hour phone conversation with a dear friend; still worth it!), which turned really painful, causing me to spend most of the last few days in a regimen of a handheld massager/Aleve/Cryoderm/heating pad, a super-hot Epsom salts bath, and a visit to Massage Envy... it's been a good week.  Hung out with Brian for three hours in the park, sat with DonnaG's kids while she attended a tele-appointment, Zoom with Nancy and Judi, an authors-who-also-own-bookstores livestream, Pool Day with Nancy, and just wrapped up an Ellis Paul music event celebrating songs inspired by books.

Sunday is Mother's Day so, if possible, check in with the woman who physically brought you into this world, as well as the special people in your life who tend and nurture you.  I miss my Mom every day, and wish I could call and/or visit her (she passed in July 2009), but I do have plans to get together with my daughter and her kiddo, which I am very much looking forward to; a gathering with my sons will have to wait for another time, since they are both in the restaurant business, which is historically crazy on this holiday!  More on those events later... 💓

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

~ Brie Larson Pivoted to Video:  The Oscar-winning actress has found therapeutic refuge on YouTube.


~ Side Effects of Walking Just 10 Minutes Per Day, Says Science:  Here's how taking brief but brisk walks can help your focus, self-confidence, and lifespan.


~ James Taylor - Remembering 1970: BBC and Joni's Jag:  Topics include: travels to London in the same year that he released album "Sweet Baby James", playing at the London Palladium, Lenny Bruce, driving cross-country with @Joni Mitchell​, bunking with Warren Oates, Two-Lane Blacktop, visiting the Hopi Indian reservation--even dancing with snakes! James also solves the BBC "In Concert" mystery: "who knitted that green sweater"?! Test your JT trivia chops!


~ Inside the ‘Jeopardy!’ Guest Host Rotation:  This season’s experiment with a carousel of fresh faces has forced the stalwart quiz show—and its contestants—to rethink much of what they know about ‘Jeopardy!’


~ Where Are All the Bob Ross Paintings? We Found Them:  Bob Ross painted more than 1,000 landscapes for his television show — so why are they so hard to find? We solve one of the internet’s favorite little mysteries.

NR:  Sarah's Key by by Tatiana de Rosnay

SONG:  Work Hard and Be Nice by Michael Franti & Spearhead

BOOK:  Deep Kindness: A Revolutionary Guide for the Way We Think, Talk, and Act in Kindness by Houston Kraft

POEM:  The world you see is just a movie in your mind by Jack Kerouac

The world you see is just a movie in your mind.

Rocks don't see it.

Bless and sit down.

Forgive and forget.

Practice kindness all day to everybody

and you will realize you’re already

in heaven now.

That’s the story.

That’s the message.

Nobody understands it,

nobody listens, they’re

all running around like chickens with heads cut

off. I will try to teach it but it will

be in vain, s’why I’ll

end up in a shack

praying and being

cool and singing

by my woodstove

making pancakes.

QUOTE:  “There are three ways to ultimate success:  The first way is to be kind.  The second way is to be kind.  The third way is to be kind.” ~ Fred Rogers