Weblog 233

July 24, 2010~ 12:00pm
A week of catching up with things at work......catching up with myself (since death tends to throw me for a loop, as it does anyone) and a week of contending with the HEAT, as though it's an opponent, which is is, I believe. In this kind of weather, all things- even the spirits -wilt... some parts drop off.



The last two days there's been a 'heat advisory'- meaning the heat index is 100 degrees or higher, the humidity insufferable. Wayne and I decided to forego our movie since the living room never cools below the high 80's, even at night. Only in my closed off bedroom, the little air-conditioner AND a fan running full blast, makes it comfortable enough to fall off to sleep.

Today, there was another dead sparrow in front of the steps in the backyard.



I hope it's not some bird virus. I rather think it's the extreme temperatures, those poor little guys pant constantly, their beaks spread wide, looking miserable. I've put 4 watering bowls out, and clean them every day and add fresh, cold water. I love to watch them flapping and guzzling... especially the starlings, who love their noisy, splashing baths. After leaving the suet cake alone for over a week, the suet has now become 'the ALAMO' for the aggressive, young, light-brown starlings. (They must have all matured together, their black-speckled parents now outnumbered by these juvenile deliquents! What a pack of bullies! LOL!)

They immediately flock to the suet cake as soon as I hang a new one, and squawk and scream and peck at one another, looking up at me at the door, only 4 ft. away from them as though to say, "What? What's the problem?" (I continually scold them, telling them to tone it down, behave, share, there's room for everyone...it does nothing of course. They are not intimidated by me in the least.)

The starlings and grackles bathe often.... drink often...but I can't say the same for the smaller birds- the sparrows in particular. I think they're having a much harder time of it in this hot spell.

We had mum's birthday party on Thursday. I ate with her at the Assisted Living, then drove her to my sister's house for cake and coffee, and a gathering of the clan. (She was mostly in a foul humor. LOL!) The 'special birthday dinner' she'd picked out last month was not to her liking. She made a few swipes at the steak and mushrooms, and promptly pronouced it 'too tough! I can't eat this!' -- then slid the plate at me, and grabbed my ham salad sandwich on rye (which I had been looking FORWARD to eating) -and chomped on it with absolute defiance. I was ticked at her. I was looking forward to my nice, cold sandwich...lol.... but you know I think 'celebrating' so close to the day she buried her sister --which was mum's actual birthday, July 19th --made it hard for her to enjoy herself. It's as though she was ANGRY at all the fuss. (Guilty, maybe? Irrational? But aren't all emotions?) I believe the colors were leeched from her world....



...and the world itself, bleak. Blasted. A desert with only rocks and sand.



It was a less than 'successful' 90th birthday celebration, but I believe it was all she could muster given the circumstances. Life goes on....awkwardness, sadness, grief upon grief....life just is. It keeps rolling, unmindful of circumstance.

The highlight of the week was delving into Kenneth Gurney's latest book of poetry. He hasn't forgotten me- (even though Blue House has closed its doors, the door to Ken's writing remains open.) It's so thoughtful of him to send me these treasures, I'm always delighted to receive these packages in the mail. His writing centers and calms me. This volume is



An Accident Practiced: Poems by Kenneth P. Gurney - and it can be purchased from Amazon. In each of his books, I find one poem that makes me stop and catch my breath, it's that perfect. This time it's a short verse that reminds me of one of my favorite poems: William Carlos Williams, 'The Red Wheelbarrow'. Look at both of these, and you'll see what I mean.

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.


(And in the same vein, in the way one image, one moment's lucid clarity and beauty re-christens everything) here is Ken's poem, titled 'Value'


Sweet, golden
array of finches
invests the purple
haired thistles.

This woodland
house is worth
every mile
it is from town.



The appreciation of aesthetics and their spiritual importance is apparent in each poem. I believe the human soul has an absolute craving for the transcendence found in a moment, in the flicker of insight, in the electric wash of beauty infused into the everyday and the common. Ken's poems always find that timbre for me, they help me soar; they take me with them right off the page and into a realm of wonder. BUY THIS BOOK...and become- (as Shakespeare said) -'new baptized'... Ken does it every time. Thank God for voices like these. They are my salvation.




July 24, 2010~ 2:15pm
I slept most of the stifling night, but was up for a while in the pre-dawn hours when it was cool enough to do so, browsing the internet and sipping coffee. I came across what would be a perfect addition to my © Nunzilla wind-up toy and my © Nun-Chucks flying nun gun....



made me smile, those little black and white pins with the apple-for-the-teacher bowling ball. So from there I was off and searching for Catholic stuff.... Catholic collectibles, vintage holy cards, etc. (I found a site that showcased 'aprons' as the perfect Catholic woman's attire LOL!!)...and a host (pun intended) of backyard worship areas. This was the strangest: a holy trio of 'tall bottle Joseph', 'Mrs. Butterworth Mary' and 'baby medicine bottle Jesus', set into a cement niche for praying outside in nature, but close enough to keep it in the home.



How's that for creativity? What are the JINGLE BELLS for??

It was tucked in with various 'bathtub' Marys with the backgrounds painted bright blue, and suffering saints surrounded by flowers. (One thing for sure....wacky Catholics LOVE STUFF! An invisible God just won't do.) Bring on the lace and the gilt and the candles. Get your angels and your fancy on....Catholics love 'em!     Cherubs, cherubs, cherubs!

The best was a site where you can buy soft, hand-made SAINT DOLLS ....(at 98 bucks a pop!) Reminds me of that joke about the little 4 year old girl who was afraid of thunderstorms and her mother told her to pray to Jesus and she retorted, "But I want someone with skin on." LOL!! Yep. Catholics want 'something with skin on' (or barring that)....at least some rhinestones and satin, buttons and bows.

Triune is fine... as long as it comes in shamrock representation, keychain adapted, or something you can stick on the dashboard or a wall. Oh, 'the way we were' apparently, is the way we ARE. Forever 'n ever, Amen.




July 27, 2010~ 4:45am
Sometimes you discover someone only through news reports of their demise, when the remarkable life they've lived becomes all the more poignant. So it is for me in my discovery of John Callahan, author of Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot - a fascinating, gloriously irreverent... multi-talented and FUNNY human being. (Rest in peace, buddy.)





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