a golden treat, a curmudgen, the earth abides.

 Yesterday , for about 20 minutes, the sun scooted along the horizon, like a searchlight. We noticed it like one might  notice the second coming- AWE and disbelief. a miracle- there must be deevine something somewhere for this to occur!  Glorious golden  light!

It lasted just long enough to discourage me packing my bags and getting the hell out of here...memory is a tricky thing. We are all so "in the moment".  Summer will return, remember? Seasons remembered during another season seem like a dream. 

Memories of  past Christmases , the wonder and shine of it all,   resurface. Pagan seasonal changes and celebrations  of nature are foremost in my thoughts at this time of year . Mother nature is  a more worthy force to respect and honor. Yet the memories of contrived "reason for the season" flood back, I am a child full of wonder and magic. again. This  photo was the first Santa that I went to see - out on the prairie in sub zero weather, wearing the coat my mother made for me. Santa smelled of cigarette smoke , dirt and whiskey. He gave me a candy cane and my friend threw a snowball at him just to see if he really was jolly. He wasn't- he was just some old dude from a ranch somewhere who got this christmas gig for a dollar, probably. 

The look of incredulity  and terror  from a five year old. (fists clenched, ready to bolt or give false  Santa a punch in the face)
 

I retrieved   christmas shite  from a box today - easy stuff, mostly paper, store-able in flat packets. This is my paper tree with paper birds on it. It stores in a flat envelope when dismantled. 

On the mantel are sticky taped  English snowmen on a string- the ever present flamingo light shining  hot  pink throughout the room. I will add more lights to this exquisite decor to be sure  , just because the phenomena of sunshine will  not occur again any time soon, so sayeth the almighty  weather man.   

The Santa that I purchased from the thrift store sits on top of the mantel, watching -judging - naughty or nice.  

After all of that exhausting decorating...I had to take a breather- a Cup of tea, a stroopwafel ,  and a quick look at instagram. Some  mighty impressive  cleverness , but  some - a scrolling waste of time. Wait a minute- is time ever really wasted? I don't think it is.  We are all just doing time on this planet in this brief life- spent time  is time spent, either in jail or in the  jail of one's ( or society's) own  construct.

 There is an island in nowhere Norway , way up north , where time does not exist- no clocks , no schedules, no constraints on the body's natural mechanism. Eat when hungry, sleep when tired, each body with  its own  metronome. The summers are daylight , the winters are darkness . The body adjusts. Or so they claim ...one could mow their lawn at 4::00am.  if  so inclined  , not beholden to  the clock. 

Sounds great! But then the Guardian did a bit of research- and , like finding no actual bugs in Bob Marleys dreads, The tale was a ruse , a lie, to entice folks to go there , spend their tourist cash  and make the island a bit wealthier.  IF some exceptional tale is a human contrivance there is  ,predictably,  capital  involved. Profit$$$ to be made. Though no money was made from the ruse of Bob Marley's dreads- that was just racist BS.

One can count on stroopwafel and tea, though, there is that!  It is legit! The wind is scheduled to take down trees and power lines today. We are not terribly effected here in this little pocket on the cul de sac. The topography protects us. 

Until, of course, the subduction zone  shifts  , sandwiched in between two active volcanoes, this area will be toast. We will all die of fire in the water over our heads, so they say..."they" are studying the demise of glaciers and ice on the planet , watching it change at such a rate the difference is noticeable moment to moment !  Going fast, creating rapid  heavy pressure ,which leads to volcanic activity and earth shakes...Whoopee, what a ride! 

The  orange claimant that climate change is a  democrat's hoax , drill baby drill, kill for more oil- has  come to bite us all -  already on its way like a run away train. Though the orange  sphincter will miss the main event, his  own body  rejecting him because he is just too toxic ..thanks to the gods of justice and retribution!  ( as if)

Light on the horizon, over the bay.. a brief few minutes. Misty and very pretty.

Travel well, comrades.