Posts Tagged ‘postaday2011’

Horse Kisses

That Copper.  He always knows when I need some bucking up, so to speak.  He’s a horse who knows a Day From Hell when he sees it, in short.  So today (which shall remain largely undescribed except to say: It’s the worst one in a while which as usual is saying quite a bit) (think: Greenhouse = Smithereens) (think: freezing night temperatures and BWAHAHAHAHAHA 40 mile an hour winds all day)(think: Partner is sick), after paying the rent I stopped by the corral and admired the new winter coats Copper and Sierra are sporting.  Obviously they needed carrots so I went and got some.  They twined their necks around and kissed each other and then Copper reached his head over the fence and got my head…exactly…where…. he wanted it….then smothered me with horse kisses, rubbing his stubbly nose and mouth all over my cheek with that warm, eternal breath and a good deal of Horse Thought Forms, which are quite sensible as it turns out.  Pretty awesome.  I decided not to shoot myself after all.

OOOOOWEEEEEEE

Yoipes, Yorick is all I can say right now.  But we are watching that really terrific..we might say vintage? -movie, LOCAL HERO.  It’s wonderful.  Also? The wind is blowing the daylights out of our new greenhouse.  The ever escalating level of difficulty.

A Set of Miracles, No. 1

This morning the parrots were on my…well, front…eating their breakfasts.  They like to perch on their bowls, lean back onto me where my heart is, then crunch their way through everything.  They make small growly noises, close their eyes, then look up and smile at me.  Boo has started doing a little routine in which she looks like a Mardi Gras Indian in New Orleans.  Totally fluffed up, slowly waving back and forth, she gets on first one leg and unfurls her tail and the opposite wing.  Then she waves the free leg around in circles for a three count.  Then, reverse.  All while totally fluffed up.  Poppy affects disinterest and usually just climbs under my hair, making confidential little comments only I can hear, usually to the effect of what a good bird she is.  And she is, too.

So there I was, crawling up onto the Pinnacle of Some Small Restoration of Order, and it struck me while all this breakfast dancing was going on just how astonishing so many things are.  Like music.  There’re only a certain number of notes and yet they get combined into unique messages and sounds that haunt you and bring joy too.  Like snowflakes and grains of sand and feathers and clouds and leaves and….everything.  The same, yet no two alike.  The breathtaking order and beauty of it!  Then there’s writing and painting and knitting and cooking and building things and….there is so much wonderful stuff in life and it is so easy to lose sight of it.  Or have it taken far away from us.  But we all can walk in beauty once we make the choice.

The Partner remarked to me today how lucky I am to be able to do work that brings me joy.  I AM lucky in that regard, even though at this point it doesn’t pay the rent quite.  But really.  All you’ve got is time and why spend it doing things you can’t stand?  I may not have this entire concept in one room yet, and I’m not even close to sure that all the sacrifices that got made to get to this particular point were “right”- but as Helen Keller said, life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing at all.

I agree with that.  Tomorrow, the Tale of the Rice Cooker.

LATE BREAKING NEWS: I thought I’d lost this earlier, deep in the bowels of cyberspace.  And in fact, it DID get lost.  Along with some editing….oh ##$@!!.  The good news was the clogged chimney cap from hell was discovered before we died from asphyxiation last night.  The bad news is that as the poster child for Einstein’s definition of crazy I keep trying to publish this and it keeps giving me the same ominous error message that my “attempt to edit” this post “failed.”  So, while I handled it ok yesterday, this morning it’s starting to get on my last nerve.  So this is it.  One more try and then INTO THE TRASH.

I Was Off the Blog Train

Firstly, a thank you to those who are reading!  And, Well, it WAS Thanksgiving and we had engagements and we also cooked a turkey (as you know,  Gentle Readers), made pies and sourdough bread and a whole bunch of other things.  Words floated through my head but evaporated into the steam from all the dishwashing.  Even now, I’m waiting for the Partner to put his tools away (from the initial rig up of our greenhouse protection for the garden for the winter- very impressive to my mind) so we can go to town and dry all the laundry I washed earlier.  No dryer yet, and not sunny enough to dry outside anymore.  Or warm enough.  November, indeed.  Snow covering the top of Mt. Shasta again at last and the whole thing.

Meanwhile, holidays being the potentially taxing things they are,  there were many philosophical and emotional potholes to navigate, explosions to avoid, and ultimately, as usual, we come again to the realization that it really is easier and more functional to drop the Opinions and the How It Is’s and the Why Can’t I Know Absolutely What Is Going To Happen, and the quotidian anxieties along with them.   After all, it is what it is, and what will be will be, even if we haven’t got a clue about any of it.  It just IS.

WHICH,  as we find ourselves continuing this after a break for what seemed like an unrelenting stream of  extraordinarily bad news, is easier said than done.  We already know that but apparently we haven’t passed the exam on it yet so it keeps coming up.  It just does seem that we’re continually being thrust onto the brink, and what can you do there?  Put one foot after another, somehow, summoning the toe holds as you go along in the pitch black dark.  Crying doesn’t help ESPECIALLY IF YOU WEAR GLASSES, and getting ticked off doesn’t do anything for you either.  As humans perhaps what we do when under a cascade of this sort, is we try to think of solutions.  What can I do about this?  Often there isn’t a darn thing except to take a deep breath and trust that you’ll be able to take that upcoming leap as many times as are required.

We all have so much history we carry around with us, and we can all be brought back to some earlier age of reactivity about whatever it is that we carry around unresolved.  This is on top of all the STUFF that happens in every day life.  I’m starting to wonder just how this ultimately gets worked out.  Say two people have a..uh…Situation.  This Situation has gone on for A Long Time.  So much time has passed, in fact, that one person has changed quite a bit and the other hasn’t really.  The Unchanged, in essence, cannot see the Changed for what it is.  Or so the Changed thinks, since explaining things doesn’t seem to be productive.  Still the Situation exists, and requires some attention and one would hope solution.  I like to think that everything can be worked out, I guess.  Maybe it just can’t.  But what do you do then?  I suppose standing steadfastly in your honest situation, speaking simply and clearly, is all.  The other elements of the thing, let’s call it,  will either get it and things will be in balance, or perhaps one side of the equation just disappears.  It seems as though it should be so much easier, this getting along with humans, than it seems to be.  But.  Then again it’s a long process of divesting yourself of resentment, anger, fear, ugly fat, compulsive whatever it is, in this life.  Maybe the real thing is to get to the point where you can walk easily on your road because you are truly not weighed down.   Kind of amusing when you think that we’re in a culture that values accumulation.  Are we laughing yet?

 

It’s DARK Out Here

One of the interesting things about writing is how much other people actually would like you to do it in some other universe; one in which the time you are taking to write is happening somewhere far, far away and isn’t interfering with lunch.  Or anything.

However, as we know, Gentle Reader, we are here, now, and that is pretty much it.   While I’m pleased I can be disciplined enough to actually DO this, it’s still a tussle to cram it in along with everything else.  Also, given the fact that everything pretty much seems to be happening underwater lately the…uhm…brilliant ideas, cogent thoughts, incisive concepts or whatever floats through the mind making one think, oooooh, I’ll write that down…seem to be very far away and perhaps having a snow day.  Or several.  Cognitive dissonance, in short, is reigning supreme.  And tomorrow I have to bake, which is serious.  It’s time to lie down.  And also? It is PITCH BLACK out here.  New moon time in November.

Deviating from the norm…

I heard today that a journalist in Iran got a year in jail for “deviating from Islamic normalcy”.  He said something about how women shouldn’t HAVE to wear headscarves if they don’t want to.  Deviating from the norm is, apparently, dangerous.  I thought so.

Meanwhile we are slogging through what needs to be done.  The turkey came out well, and a miracle happened with the gravy.  We’re almost ready to put the mini greenhouse arrangement up over the plants, and….and….it feels alot like Odysseus, sowing the dragon’s teeth and having warriors spring up out of the furrows.  If memory serves.  The illusion of  “getting things accomplished” bouncing off things  just springing up all over the place demanding attention to the point where focus is non-existent, topped off with a dollop of “reality”.  I don’t know, but I think it’s happy hour.  It’s the best idea I’ve got at the moment.   After all.  Tomorrow is, indeed another day, and another opportunity to continue the deviation.  Which, I’m pretty sure, we’ll do.

Another Day

There is snow dusted over the mountains now; it rained all night, snowed at low elevations too,  and the view toward those mountains  is wreathed in violet.  Out toward the coast the sky is blue and the sun can be seen moving toward the nightly denouement.

We’re putting one foot in front of the other, carefully.  It seems as though everyone is feeling their way toward something, taking what they think are risks and wondering what’s going to happen.  My wish continues to be that all the voices in my head would just.be.quiet for..well, regular intervals at least.  Meanwhile, we are cooking a turkey today.  We got a fantastic deal on it at our local grocery and figured, why not? We’ll be eating turkey for a while and are looking forward to it- we didn’t have one last year what with all the excitement and we have some different plans for Thanksgiving this year, so it made sense at the time.  Tomorrow we’ll make stuffing, maybe.  There’s still pies to go, too, which means pumpkins to roast.  Sometimes it really is good to have something familiar to fall back on, to do, especially in times where you can hardly figure out how to brush your hair.  At least *I* am experience challenges on that and, let’s face it, every other level.

In other Surprising News, the “Super Committee” seems to have not been so super.  Wow.  Didn’t see that coming, eh?  Iran is certain to have nuclear weapons.  Seriously, Gentle Reader.  I continue to be amazed that people don’t have this stuff figured out any better at this late date.   Meanwhile, we have a turkey to baste and at least that is something one can get one’s mind around.

Try, try again

Which we did.  Get up, that is.  After a crash and burn like yesterday’s everything looks a little unfamiliar right off the top.  It’s cold and the skies are like lead.  Neither the Partner nor I remember the oak leaves being quite so gold, so yellow last year.  It’s an astonishing effect against the lodge pole pines and live oaks and manzanitas.  In any event it makes the entire landscape here look very different, oddly spectacular in a dream like way.

The whole thing about perception is still on (what is left of) my mind.  It is almost as though our society has made the simplest common denominator approach to things the only one allowed.  Something that is outside the bounds of those rather manufactured and horsed around explanations simply doesn’t exist.  It is a variation, of course, on the unseen galleons in the harbors of the new world; you don’t see what you don’t expect to see.  You don’t expect to see ships, you don’t see them.  You expect things to fit into a simple paradigm, they fit.  Except of course if and when they don’t.  So this is the beginning, perhaps, of an understanding of things that have eluded me up until now.  Perhaps it won’t be a very “happy” revelation, but we have to start somewhere.  It does seem, though, as though we here on earth have been on a long trip through a reality that has been almost entirely geared toward money, making money, having power and control over others, and lacking a certain- moral compass? we might say.  No wonder some of us feel lost.

Batting A Thousand

That’s what we did today, for sure.  Now I’ve even managed to give myself an upset stomach for extra fun.  It’s one thing to live out in the country, but when you have to run unscheduled errands it starts to add up.  Yesterday we went to town twice because a pair of glasses got left at the donut counter in the grocery store.  Now we have to go back to effing Home Depot because the plastic we got to cover the garden so it would not freeze (LIKE TONIGHT FOR EXAMPLE) turned out to be like a big $50 roll of plastic toilet paper.  Even though, of course, I was at Home Depot today.  But, tomorrow.  The expected mail did not arrive, either, which means yet another trip to either Redding or Red Bluff when it does being as how it has a check in it.   And not having had the intestinal fortitude to change banks right now on top of everything else, my bank is of course not anywhere close to here.

So I’m sitting here fervently praying that my plants don’t freeze tonight.  That might just be the straw that breaks the whole thing up- in short, possible snap fest alert.  The rest of everything that went to hell in a handbasket today, well.   Some days it’s really hard, and that is all there is to it.  Even though it was beautiful today, the golden leaves swirling in pillars against the dark gray sky, the huge sculpted clouds,  the rolling hills frosted to a dun color, and the sweeping banks of rain across the mountains with huge flocks of birds boiling in and out of them.  Still.  I’m worried about  everything today, unhelpful as that is.  It doesn’t even burn calories, adding insult to injury.

Meanwhile, The Partner is cheerily predicting Armageddon again (something of a routine with him)- we’re listening to the news about all the things that are going sideways, principally economically.  Part of what makes all this so flummoxing is it really is almost impossible to make a plan or look to the future; after all, we got ourselves to this place, collectively and individually, and perhaps don’t want to quite redo THAT set of steps.  So, today, dear oh dear.  Strange days.  That inner place of peace seems like a long way off.

 

How Do We Know….

Indeed, how do we know anything? How do we decide what to believe?  So much of what all of us believe to be true is just “stuff” people told us when we were growing up.  “Stuff” they thought was true because it’s what they were told.  But not necessarily true, this stuff.  Therein lies the rub, of course.  The more of everything one observes to be, essentially, hearsay, the more everything comes into question.  I think this is a good thing, myself, having been stuck with it as a lifetime process, but on the other hand.  Much safer to go along with the provided interpretations, accept what you’re told because they say so.

Life is what you make of it, Paul Simon sings in a new song, so beautiful or so what.  The thing about that is, sometimes the what you can make out of your life is very small and only you can see it.  The Dalai Lama acknowledges quite straightforwardly that in order to be happy, humans actually do need physical stability in terms of adequate peace, food, shelter and support.  Not everybody actually has that, as we know.  Given that as a basic parameter, we find that sometimes the focus has to be precise and exact, in the moment and with no distractions- we have to surrender to the simplicity of our place in the complexity.   Only then do you know how you deal with adversity and pain and success and joy, what your outlook is and in a broader view, where that is likely to take you.  Only you know at long last that the only real control is over parts of yourself, part of the time.  With substantial chunks devoted to chasing the Wild Ego, the Happy Hormones, and the Bizarre Brain Chemistry.  It does take time to understand that even the rough parts are beautiful, and everything is temporary.

Even knowing all that, though, it’s still hard to keep  calm awareness and vigilance going when you’re eyeball to eyeball with the physical manifestations of all your fears.  Naturally this is just the delightful classroom the cosmos has set up for our pleasure and edification.  If we weren’t afraid of whatever it is, it wouldn’t be an issue, would it?  Such an elegant concept, such almost impossible execution.