Now We Are Sixty

I feel as if I and whoever /whatever else is warping the fabric of my puny existence have waxed me into a corner, to mix domestic metaphors. Here I stand, have stood, actually, for a longish time. Who has time to ponder, investigate, solve every dilemma or conundrum set upon our plates?  Make that plural: the swarms and hordes of things we must-do milling about, clamoring for our attention. They¹re lined up like a legation from a third world country seeking sanctuary. Think Depression breadlines, Gulf Coasters once again fleeing while the good ol boys and gals fiddle and the balloons cascade. There is so much to ponder if not inveigh against that filling a shopping card could easily become a back burner issue. Continue Reading »

A frantic ant just scurried through the labyrinth of the keyboard. Poor ants-they’re little welcomed here. I have been known to erect a mountainous barrier of cornstarch along the kitchen window. I am respectful of them as long as they’re outside. Back yard is fine. Kitchen’s verboten because a nuisance as is the spraying of cats, though cats are sometimes sprayed because skunks are skunks and cats are cats and good luck unless you keep the kitties inside, safe from hazard, but insulated from a proper kitty life, deprived of the great mother, the sniff and feel of everything. But the point is pest and nuisance and what we do about it. Continue Reading »

Let’s continue the critical conversation about the health and well being of our community and environs before we make any drastic decisions about spraying. Continue Reading »

oh bleep, oh dear, I’ve been screeching, sotto voce of course. I’m saturated with annoyance. Help. Somebody please wring me out quick! How can I empty myself of vexation and chagrin that I feel witnessing and experiencing the inundation of the mediocre and inane, the vapid tepid irrelevancies of modern life? Just try dialing the phone company, a credit card so-called customer service number, an HMO, hmph. Continue Reading »

Why forgiveness? In a snit of indignation or choleric blame, we stumble onto an iffy path. The justifying monkey finds a million reasons to vindicate evening the score. Victims of malice and mayhem cry out we shall never sleep until we have our revenge, an eye for an eye, tit for tat, they had it coming and all that misery begotten misery. In a land where so many profess to be Christians, it’s good to remember that the new dispensation of Christ was to renounce vengeance and turn the other cheek. Continue Reading »

Are we not at a crossroads or a forking point? Not to load the dice ( or is it deck?), but things seem so consequential, more than usual…what with the drought, all the wildfires raging around California and the slow drip just below the surface:  war…war…war and we are all affected even as we sweep the floor, read a poem or hug a friend. Even as we mix the salad greens, work up a sweat on an uphill slog, even as we potter about, muse and dream, even as we watch the wind rocking the laden boughs of the cherry tree, even as we breathe. Nearing saturation, the tipping point or even just past, as some surmise, we’re at the end of the inning, the bases are loaded and everything hangs in the balance. It’s our move. Batter Up. Easier said than done. Continue Reading »

I am happy. The matriarch cherry is fruiting and I recently sampled the cherry cordial made last year from the miniature fruit the birds left. Serious Yum with promise of another blessed round this year as soon as the berries ripen and the cherries fall to the ground. Continue Reading »

Why didn’t we just stick to baseball, spring cleaning and cards?
Why  did we give up on star gazing, canoeing, digging for clams?
Why did we stop building sand castles, flying kites,
turning cartwheels and somersaults and pages? Continue Reading »

When I can no longer bear
the world in tatters…
war torn, shorn of sense,
gobbled and hobbled by greed
or careless indifference,
everything awry,

when I can no longer bear
children taking bullets
so I can drive my car
and no reason why,

when I can no longer bear
the disappearance of bees,
the last generations of man…
Everything matters !

when I am thus blue
and stupid with sorrow,
I turn to music, solace,
its bosom, its palace.

Did you ever as a child have to stay at the table long after everyone else had left, still compelled to eat, still resisting Popeye’s khaki spinach, a cold and soggy smear on the china? Blech. Character formation. In the long ago, we were told so that we would appreciate all that was set upon our plates that the children were starving in India. I would have gladly shipped them my vegetables, but they had troubles enough of their own without having to deal with the inedible ersatz vittles I had to offer. Continue Reading »