Thursday, August 15, 2019

winding down ,beautiful summer

Joe's garden, plump with dahlias and all sorts of vegetables, winding down, tilling the soil
getting ready for the big sleep, I am never ready- I do love the change into Autumn but then the lights go out , the rain - constant, the darkness and chill almost too much. A great time to go to the desert.

I bought more cherries, amazed that they are still really good this late in the summer- weird weather I guess.
These are huge , juicy, sweet, tender.

always going through boxes of STUFF! Sometimes I find something that endears me, This "action figure" couple for instance.
Not sure what it is that tickles me about them, maybe Grampa's pants worn spot and his Archie Bunker style, Looks like my Dad. His hep wife in her snappy outfit, matching shoes, tolerant smile on her face, I imagine she is apologizing for him constantly.

Remember PANTS? and the delivery of his carcass to the deck by the door where I could not possibly overlook  it. I have wondered how it got up there, mystery solved. There is a crow that travels with the one legged sea gull - I feed them daily,   lovely gull,  polite , injured, hopping one legged losing balance- they are best friends and sometimes the gull shares with the crow- but mostly the crow waits in the plum tree beside the gull to make sure it gets enough to eat- they fly off together. Crow scouts for the gull.
Crow has been dropping off little "gifts" , weird little  plastic bits, a stick, an odd painted pebble, It watched for a long time- as Pants came and went, it heard me talking to Pants in encouraging  tones.
Crows are intuitive , clever creatures.
Brought Pants back to me.
Gosh, Thank you, Crow, nice...there is no other explanation.
Going out today in the beautiful , perfect summer to get more fish for the gull, and to the Assistance League because it is old lady day . WHY? because everything is a dollar and they have the most amazing wonderful inventory. Last week I bought a white  Icelandic wool blanket, in new condition-  warmest, softest, comfort ever. I will thank myself when winter rolls around.
Hoping against hope that ETSY will pick up - though I am not banking on it, believe me- corporate greed - has lost everything is used to be, a community of creativity. It's gross, yet I keep doing it- call it a "HOBBY".  Just shifting "junk" , and why not...
Marie Kondo has no power here...

PS- Washington state has 46 law suits against 45- that should make everyone feel glad!

Monday, August 12, 2019

terribly sad about joy

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