A good day if there is a dog involved, This is Deuce, studio pup, happiest little soul - I went up to pay the rent, look around, uninspired, came back home. But not without playing with Deuce, he has the best sense of humor and can talk.
Like a low grade fever, depression is just sort of hanging around waiting to pounce or to be shaken wit less. I think the later is the best idea. Depression seems to be the flavor of the day, living in these incredibly interesting, horrifying days. " throw me in the shallow end!" please!
I was given a tooth macaroon filled with coffee mousse from Mr. Man's Hygienist - it was hygienist appreciation day at the office so there were enough to bring one home.
Delish and delightful, gives one a happy reason to hang out with a dentist.
Walking down by the bay This "JOY" was on the sidewalk.
It was a "sign"
My friend had just died, Her name was Joy.
She was my neighbor out on the rez. Tall Swedish, long braid coiled into a bun. She always offered tea in one of her many and varied tea cups, Always had some wonderful fruit cobbler still warm from the oven with cream...Her ideas were solid, her advice sincere, her guidance - somewhat adventurous and somewhat mischievous. We spent a lot of time together , out there, on the beach, gardening, nude sunbathing and talking about how utterly impossible man can be.
I drove out , to check on the cabin and to collect the pots of flowers I had taken out...and to say thank you, to what ever spirit might linger there.
She sold her house next to our cabin, she had become too old to live on her own out there, but I thought there might be some of her left over. she had moved inland, to the mountains, her heart place.
I was wrong, There was nothing of Joy left at the house, so I went to the native cemetery.
That felt just right.
The graves are organic, in that they change always, well looked after and personalized, the spirits, so they say, have not entirely vanished into the cosmic soup. They come and go.
This grave is one I have not seen before , " Over the hill crossing" says the sign.
And this one with a backward leaning Mary- was not there the last time I visited.
Odd, fresh graves all same family, in a row, side by side like they are holding hands.
The Butterfly bush doing it's ghosty lavender blur, the trees in the middle obscured a bit by blur .
Probably the way the sun was shining, though there is a thing about the Lummi cemetery- the spirits wander, they say, especially after 4:00 in the afternoon. It is a cemetery that you can feel- not in a spooky way, but in a presence way- A very thin veil between flesh and not flesh anymore- way.
And so, that was that, terribly sad about JOY, she was ready, though, she gave ample notice to loved ones, she was good and ready and I must say, her timing has always been right on target.
This world has a way of wearing us out, breaking our hearts as well as other flesh bits . My GAWD, what have we become