Author: Wilma

Week started with surprises … high 70s and low 80s in Tampa and Chicago while it was high 30s and low 40s here.

Midweek … sunny and warmer, 60s and 70s here with HOT predicted for the weekend.

Weekend and end of the week … stationary high pressure area over the western end of the California-Oregon border causing HIGH temperatures (100s down in the valley and up in Medford, high 80s to low 90s here) Today’s high was 97.  

Mikayla arrived for a visit from her home in Mesa, Arizona and called our temperature “not too bad”. It was such a treat to see her. A bit sad as well. She and Tyler used to spend summers here, so this was her last time here. She picked up a fresh pine cone to take with her.

~~~ 

The sun now rises north of the mountain and is in my window a bit before 0540.

Morning sounds this time of year include crowing roosters (we  don’t have one but neighbors to the east do and he is a proud one), northbound freight train at the North Old Stage crossing (two longs, a short, and another long), sand cranes’ raucous announcement of their morning trip down to the reservoir, surf-like wind sound in the trees … hard to decide which is most pleasant.  

~~~

Last week, during the lead-in to Memorial Day, I learned that the meaning of the poppy is Life, Death, Sleep, and Beauty.  I’d never heard that interpretation.  I thought the poppy was merely a reminder.  But NPR gave the multiple meaning as part of an introduction to a musical section for the day.  Sounds a bit like resurrection thinking.

I also saw a post, written by a veteran, reminding folks that Memorial Day is for those who died in service and not for vets in general.  We were also reminded that Veterans’ Day in November started out as Armistice Day commemorating the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month when the War to End All Wars ended.

It is interesting how holidays change as the needs of the culture change.  And how often people just assume that the way it is now is the way it has always been.

~~~

Our area of California is now cited as high drought area meaning at high risk for fire.  Already this year thousands of acres of California have been lost to fire.  More than at this time last year, and the traditional fire season hasn’t yet begun. 

As I was driving to town recently, I saw an area full of wire grass, the spikey kind with reddish brown tips.  

When we moved here, that grass meant water less than a couple of feet below the surface.  There used to be patches of that straight, tall wire grass in the high meadow.  Now the only place I see it is down near Old Stage Road in what used to be swamp and is now a meadow.  

Trees are dying all around.  Mostly evergreens.  Does that indicate that eventually temperate, deciduous forests will replace the evergreen forests?  And what will be replacing the temperate forests … grassland followed by farmland followed by desert?

 ~~~

I have been doing more sorting.  Found some of the small toy cars (Hot Wheels) with which the boys used to play … a lot.  Hadn’t yet decided what to do with them until this late evening when Paul knocked on my door about 2145. He was having trouble getting to sleep and came to talk.

We turned on the Beatles and discussed the new home he and his parents will be moving into and what it will be like to live in town, or at least near to town, rather than out here in the forest … although with all the new building around here it isn’t the forest it used to be. He described what he thinks my new apartment will be like and what we will do when he and his Dad come to visit.

When he left to go back to bed, we shared a hug and were both feeling better.

Paul doesn’t play with that kind of car toy.  He is more into MineCraft video play or Legos.  I showed him the cars I’d found and he said I should take them with me to remind me of when my boys were little and they would be there for him to play with when he visits. So that has been decided.

~~~

I started watching “Doc Martin” again.  I had watched a few months ago but stopped after 5 or 6 seasons.  His constant frown and rudeness got to me.  But the people of Portwenn called and I am back watching.  Who knows how long I’ll last this time.

It is filmed in and around Port Issac south of Tintagel on the west coast of Cornwall.  In fact, a few scenes in the current series were shot in Tintagel, at the seaside hotel.  It was called the King Arthur Hotel when I stayed there.  I remember the toilet and the shower were in our room, but the tub was in the bath room down the hall and was long enough for a 6’+ person to get a good soak.  That reminded me a bit of the bathtub scene in “Diabolique”.

It was the end of the season, and we were the only guests before they shuttered for the season that year. 

It was a lovely interlude.  The food was good (as English cooking goes) and I found a way to get out (and back in) a door in the seaside greenhouse for a late walkabout on the cliffs.  

Other memories of that stay were an adventure in Merlin’s cave as the tide turned and began to come in.  And a visit to St Materiana’s just south of the fort site where the baptismal font is Norman in style and probably dates to the 11th century.  I left my dime there as well as lighted a candle. 

The hotel is now called “Camelot”.  I wonder if business is still so seasonal.

~~~

Short post this week … and early.  I have the car tomorrow and, because of the three day weekend, there is a lot to do.  I have “vintage” clothes to take to the local little theatre group for their costume closet, the library wasn’t open monday for the drive-thru pick ups so that’s on the list (I have five or six books waiting), and there is shopping to do.  It promises to be a rather long day which will  begin at 0745 … as a result, early is the word.  Sorry if things sound a bit disjointed.  

Just because the blog is posted early doesn’t mean you have to read early.  

~~~

Most everyone around here seems to be in an unsettled state.  That’s not an easy place to live.

Not all storms come to disrupt your life.  Some come to clear your path.

… and …

Heed your inner voice of hope. It happens to be right.  Your future’s looking very bright indeed.  Whatever trials you might endure, faith in a brighter future is well-founded.

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

This will be the last post with the COVID heading.  Masks are an option now and the death rate has slowed.  Everyone I know and with whom I interact has been vaccinated and it is on my calendar to renew in a year.

~~~

Woke up last thursday to snow on the ground and near freezing temperatures.  Also has rather severe wind, but snow was only above about 3,500’ and was light and gone by 1000.

Friday was overcast with less wind and only snow skiffs before noon.

Saturday morning rain and chilly.

Sunday, monday, tuesday … more of the same in differing amounts.

~~~

The wild-ranging Scotch broom is in full bloom (much to the dismay of some since it is becoming invasive).  For botanists … broom is native to central and western Europe and probably got to England during the English/French alliances and wars and from there to the North American continent with the early immigrants.  For history buffs (and maybe genealogy folks) … the name Plantagenet traditionally means “sprig of broom” dating back to 1605 when Geoffrey Plante Genest wore a sprig of broom (the planta genista) in his bonnet and included both Lancasters and Yorks (the Battle of the Roses) and through them Tudors.  Interesting English history.

The wisteria is displaying.  

The lilac is nearly done.

The locust trees all over the south country are in full bloom.  I learned a bit ago that son Mark never knew why the police social and bargaining group in Rochester NY was called the “Locust Club”.  Then we learned together that nightsticks were traditionally made out of locust wood.  Another tidbit for your next trivia challenge.

It seems that, in spite of the late frosts, there may be a good apple crop this year.

In addition, the catalpa has decided it is time to leaf out.

~~~

Spent some time last week reading the next Dorothy Sayers mystery.  I remember seeing a tv series some time ago (must have been a Brit production) and enjoying her effete Brit Lord with his monocle.

Sherlock, Poirot, Wimsey … each so different and each good reads.

~~~

I’m going through everything for the third time and still weeding out.  Trading space for memories.

In conversations with relatives and others, the consensus seems to be that there comes a time when Depression kids have to let go of the but-there-might-come-a-time-when-I’ll-need-that mind frame and just let it go.  

Latest decision is to take only genealogy stuff, spinning stuff, and a minimum of kitchen stuff with me.  The stack of books that must go has been whittled down to a very short stack.  I will soon have access to the Los Angeles Public Library which has the largest population of any publicly funded library system in the United States so the available book list should be enormous.

I’ve passed along most of the unspun fiber in my stash so I’ll still be part of the spinning group for a time as others use it. 

I will be offering the herbal books and prep tools to the new lady of this land as well as all the canning stuff.   

Also found my“old” Shirley Temple doll (circa “Stand Up and Cheer” 1934) … (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFJWmqMzvJU&ab_channel=ShirleyTemple)

My granddaughter isn’t into dolls and so some doll collector is going to be over the top.

So far I haven’t found my Sonja Henie doll.  

~~~

Several years ago, a Brit friend introduced me to brown sugar cubes.  They are not simply pressed brown sugar but have a subtle taste and contain minerals white sugar doesn’t have.  I use La Perruche cubes. I like them in hot cereal along with milk, butter, and raisins.

I introduced them to Paul and he became a convert.  Guess it’s time to send off another order since there are only five left in the jar.

~~~

Sunday, before the dog was let outdoors, there were three mule deer grazing near the front door … two very gravid does and a yearling.  They were moving east to west.  Another yearling went across the section of the meadow I can see from my south window.  I did see a forked horn a few days ago, but haven’t seen him since.  And saw a larger buck as well, still in the velvet.

Watching them graze made me think of folks who have begun keeping a goat as a lawnmower.  I wonder what cities would think if more folks tried that.  There would be someone who would object by saying all goats smell rank.  But that’s not true.  Nannies aren’t smelly.  Only the randy bucks.  

~~~

I’ve been reading books in a series by Laurie King (who says she lives in NORTHERN California, but seems to actually be in the Santa Cruz area which to us Northerners is part of the middle of the state).  They are fun books, and in the current read there was an idea, a great idea, for a costume when you can’t avoid going to a dress-up party … muss up your hair and go in your pajamas and slippers (ladies – no makeup).  When you’re asked who you are, just look grumpy and tell them you are the  “The neighbor from downstairs/upstairs/next door! and can you please tone it down?”

~~~

 The recent short, but oh so deadly, war between Israel and Gaza (talk about David and Goliath) left me weeping.  I have Jewish friends and Muslim friends.  Why must friends of my friends try to kill each other?  As my Another Mother For Peace medallion says … “War is not healthy for children and other living things.”

Why is it so hard to remember that basically we are all the same …

Every infant is born in the natural state.  It is the parents who make him into a Jew or a Christian or a Muslin or a Hindu or a Pagan or a …

     The Muqaddimah of Ibn Khaldun

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Guidelines are now masks are no longer needed for those who are vaccinated.   

My first thought was “How do you tell if the person not wearing a mask has been vaccinated or is just protesting?” 

Second thought was “It doesn’t matter because, since I am vaccinated, I’m protected and am protecting others.  Their masklessness (is that a real word?) is their choice and responsibility.”  

When I started thinking about it as being akin to all the other vaccinations … I’m okay.  I’ll make the choice to wear or not to wear depending on the situation and the requests of those I meet, stores, and other vendors.

~~~

Weather has been of bit of everything.  Cool with rain a couple of days last week.. it then turned clear and warmer until this morning.  Today we have clouds, light wind, and a bit of chill.

Variety is the spice ,,, right?

~~~

I turned 91 last week and in celebration, the firs have all put on their bright, light green growth tips.  I do love this time of year and the fir display.

~~~

The senior lunch program is getting off to a rather slow start.  I missed the first one after the restrictions were lifted so don’t know what that attendance was.  But the last two mondays it has been around 30 at each serving session.  That seems empty.  Before covid there were always between 90 and 100 each week.  Maybe fear of covid is still a factor.  Maybe the fact that there is no longer a bingo game following might have something to do with it as well.

This week my favorite (the HiLo) was the caterer and we had chicken strips, a very nice potato salad including veggies on greens, slices of oranges, and a good sized chocolate chip cookie. 

Make your mouth water?

Two of my table mates were folks I haven’t seen in months.  Jose must have really missed having the social time because he was very voluble.  But it was really interesting.  He had been an “illegal” for several years before he met and began working with Cesar Chavez.  He talked about working conditions before and after … such as working as long as 20 hours a day during harvest time with no overtime pay.  His youngest child was born here after Jose was able to bring his wife and two older children to the US. They are all now citizens.  All the children finished basic schooling and some extra and all are now working at good jobs.  Jose is retired and volunteers at some of the same places I do.

I’m glad he felt like talking.

I forgot to mention that someone tattled and told it was my birthday week.  During cookie time they all sang to me.

~~~

I’ve been having a bit of a go with grief caused depression.  My Grief counselor says it has a name … pre-grief.  It’s what you feel when you are anticipating a loss of something or someone meaningful.  My Health care provider called it situational depression and listed it as mild and resolving.

I am holding onto the trust that both of them, as well as the mental health counselor with whom I have been in contact, are correct.

So the thought for this week is …

When it causes you pain, pay attention.  Life is trying to teach you something.

It has been difficult.  I made some bad decisions during this period of entering a new life.  I am trusting I have begun to understand the lessons, am making better decisions in my own interest as well as the interest of others involved, and the seas will begin to calm.  

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Last week began with a fire … just half a mile away … to the north. 

A neighbor had been clearing his land as per CalFire directions and had a couple of men, who were supposed to be knowledgeable about fires, burning the slash in small piles.  Mark had just picked me up to go out for Mexican food, since it was Cinco de Mayo, and as we went past we could see that Shasta-Trinity USFS crews were on the scene.  There is no longer a local “fire company” due to lack of cooperation as well as no volunteers, so it could have been a disaster.  Luck was with us because the wind was out of the south and the fire was northwest of us.

When we got home the fire was under control, had been limited to 1 acre, and most of the out-of-area help had been released leaving only an overnight mop-up crew.

Thursday morning the wind was out of the east.

~~~

My first time back to the senior luncheons at the Weed Community Center was monday.  There are changes from the last time we were there over four hundred days ago.  

You have to produce your vaccination proof (the first time only) and wear a mask when entering or leaving the dining area.  You can be unmasked at the table but the table is limited to four persons (used to be eight).  Drinks and food are delivered to you (no more lines).

It used to be close to a hundred people at each luncheon.  Now limited to forty at a session and there are two sessions, 1130 and 1230, so no time to just socialize.  There were fewer than thirty at our session today.

Food was good … from the Mt Shasta Supermarket … two teriyaki meatballs (huge), two slices of buttered and cheesed sourdough, rice (interesting it wasn’t pasta but maybe to avoid a problem for GF folks or maybe rice since the meatballs were teriyaki rather than Italian), a nice serving of salad, and two small chocolate chip cookies.  I brought one of the meatballs home for lunch on tuesday. 

Next week food will be from the HiLo.

One really nice side event was two hugs from a young man (mid-fifties) who went to school with my middle son.

~~~

 The Granny Smith apple tree is in glorious full bloom.  

It is a blessing every time I go out the back door making me think of the old song “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White”.  Instead of the “Last Rose of Summer”, it is doing its best to go out as the “Last Blaze of Spring”.  Most of the other Springtime blossoms are past their glory days, with the exception of the Granny Smith and the front door lilac which is showing tight, dark purple buds.  Another week and the apple blossoms will be over and the lilacs will be in full, fragrant bloom.  

While going out to close the hens in for the night I found the crabapple in a beautiful, bright pink bloom.  Maybe a good crop this year.

There are glorious greens everywhere, and still a few daffodils, but the plum and other beauties have turned their flash over to the small beginnings of fruit and seeds.

~~~

 Brace yourself … here is the current lesson for Opera 101.

The past week, leading up to Mothers’ Day, the Met’s roster of free streaming operas had a theme … Mothers and Death.

The series began with Electra (Strauss), followed by Rodelinda (Handel) then Hamlet (Thomas) and on thursday Norma (Bellini).  Friday it was Wozzeck (Berg), saturday Madama Butterfly (Puccini), ending on sunday with another Handel Agrippina.  

What a line up. And quite appropriate, right?

Opera is dull and difficult, right?

Well … this line up was a bit difficult, but no way could it be considered “boring”.

Electra and her brother kill their mother after the murder of their father by Mother and her lover.

Rodelinda must make a choice between a new marriage following the death of her husband, the King (her new husband is the new King) and the sacrifice of her son in order to ensure the new husband’s line will be heirs to the throne.

Hamlet is faced with unending tragedy when his mother marries his father’s brother who had murdered his father.

Norma, a Druid Priestess who has taken a vow of chastity which she broke and had two sons by a roman soldier, offers to either kill the boys or herself when she and the Roman are sentenced to death after their affair is discovered.

Wozzeck kills the mother of his bastard son after he goes mad with guilt.

Madama Butterfly kills herself after giving her bastard son to the wife of her lover.

… and finally …

Agrippina plots to have her son from a previous marriage named as her husband’s heir (her current husband is the Emperor) by promising sexual favors to two of the Emperor’s men , then betrays her son because the woman he loves is also involved with the Emperor’s chosen heir.  She is then successful in having her son named Emperor-in-waiting when she reveals the love between the man previously chosen by the Emperor as his successor and the woman which somehow makes way for her son to become Emperor (a bit convoluted, even without anyone dying, but no one ever insisted Handel was straight forward).

So much for nice, gentle, fluffy, sweet mother stories.  

Really boring … 

I wonder what they have in store for Fathers’ Day?  Probably won’t be half as interesting since operas are nearly all written by men.

~~~

Interesting times … Winter all but over … Spring in bloom … general chaos of changing times.

 Don’t hesitate … just jump and build your wings on the way down.

So ‘til next week

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Well, my birthday month is here and following an old adage about reversing your age when it seems fit … I will soon be 19.

~~~

I saw the dentist last thursday and had a tooth pulled.  It was a tooth which had broken off several years ago after an 80 year old filling fell out. It had developed an abscess … a rather massive abscess complete with PAIN and some swelling.  

Fortunately, I am rather healthy, even for a 19-year-old, so pulling the tooth, draining the abscess as much as possible, and seven days on Amoxicillin seems to have done the trick.  I see the dentist for a follow-up and a full exam in a couple of weeks.

That final day had been a real doozy.  I’ve gone through childbirth three times and they were nothing compared to this.

One side effect I hadn’t expected was that when I finally looked at myself in a mirror I was surprised at the external bruising.  My chin went through the full panoply of colours.  The purple was rather eye catching.

~~~

Because of the tooth problem, I missed the return of the local senior luncheons.  COVID restrictions have made it a requirement that we sign up so they can control the number of folks they feed at a time.  The young man in charge of registration went to school with my middle son (which means he’s in his mid-fifties … wow) and always greets me with a hug, so called I him as soon as I could talk well enough to be understood and said “Don’t drop me from the list!”

I haven’t talked with either of my lunch buddies yet to learn how it went, but that’s on the to-do list for later today.  

~~~

Last week I sort of drowned you in opera.  I’d apologize but it was just me sharing events that gave me joy.

All that time spent thinking about Philip Glass’s opera got me thinking about his easily identifiable musical style and I came to understand that what is initially heard as a monotonous, repetitious three or four note phrase is actual a repeating chord progression where the notes which are usually played together are played one at a time, most of the time rising but sometimes descending and even occasionally out of order.

What a discovery.

~~~

 Another musical discovery came when I switched the Sirius channel from Symphony Hall to 40s Junction.  I am not a musician.  I don’t know a 5th whatever from any other chord or how to tell key designations. And if that sounds incredibly stupid to those of you who do know these things, well … I am a good ear and I discovered that a lot of the girl and boy singers of that era didn’t always hit the note intended.  I know it isn’t something wrong with the recordings or intentional style since the oops moments aren’t consistent.

There were a few singers I have yet to hear hit an incorrect note … Miss Peggy Lee for one … and Sinatra, but then he studied voice with an opera teacher so his pitch, breathing, timing, etc. was right on.

~~~

Weather isn’t warm yet, but the chill doesn’t last too long in the morning and days are getting to be quite pleasant.  There are more and more blossoms, both “wild” and cultivated. 

The lupins will be showing soon as will the fir tips.  

~~~

 To close out the week, here’s a note based on words written by Issac Azimov …

Genuinely smart people look for answers from people who are smarter, in reference to the subject in question, than they are.  Only ignorant people believe their guess is as good as anyone else’s.

So ‘til next week

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

I’m late again.  Sorry.  Life seems to be conspiring against my timing lately.  I’ll keep trying to make my self-imposed wednesday “deadline”, but if I miss … don’t panic.  Just be patient and wait a week before panicking.

~~~

Reason for this week’s “miss” was a toothache. 

I had lost a filling and broken a tooth a few years ago (as a result of “primitive” dental work eighty years ago) and last week it started hurting, not all the time but especially with breath intake.  I had neglected my mouth during the years I was spending all my time with George so having a “bad” mouth was no surprise (and here’s a senior citizen’s opinion) … MediCare should carry dental coverage at no extra cost since if your mouth goes, your overall health is in danger and that eventually means the need for increased medical care which means increased costs.  So saving a dollar now means the need for spending possibly thousands more dollars later.  Bad economics … 

I started looking for a dentist.  No luck.

Monday I was still having no luck. 

Tuesday I found someone but they couldn’t get me in until the 3rd.  However, since I impressed on them I feared sepsis, a prescription was called in to a local pharmacy.  I had been having a situation with the local Rite Aid with prescriptions taking several days to be filled, and there was no way I wanted to wait to start fighting a possible abscess, so I tried the other pharmacy in town (CVS).  I got a call that afternoon telling me my script was ready!  Wow …

Wednesday morning I picked it up and started on a loading dose right away.  And the office called that they had a cancellation for this afternoon.  What is left of the tooth will most likely need pulling.  I will get this posted, and continue the tale next week.  

Oh well … Onward …

~~~

Last saturday was interesting …

The air had been full of pollen (probably from the birches since it is too early for the conifers).  Rain started before sunrise saturday morning which meant the slanted windows were patterned with rain runnels through the pollen settled there.

Then sunday we awoke to light snain … too cold for all rain but too warm for real snow. The sunday morning outdoor church service was cancelled. 

Monday, tuesday, and wednesday were clear with rising temperatures.  Maybe Spring is finally really here.

~~~

I think I’ve told you this family is having housing difficulties.  I won’t bore you with details, but things seem to be falling into place.

Everyone, please hold positive thoughts.

~~~

The monday senior lunches at the Weed Community Center will be starting again the first monday in May.  Of Course it will be on a restricted basis so it won’t be the same social gathering as it was before, but my two lunch buddies and I will be in the same seating group.  First week’s lunch will be provided by Ellie’s, a good place to eat here in Weed, and will be chicken, pasta, salad, and a BIG cookie.  Ellie’s does a good job.  Not quite as good a job as the HiLo, but good. The HiLo is on the lunch rotation so it will be providing the eats in a week or so.

So instead, last monday I went out to lunch with my opera buddies.  I had challenged them to watch the Bavarian Rosenkavalier, but by time they got around to it the free stream had finished.  Too bad.  It was a great production, very much out of the traditional way that opera is done.  And it was done before an empty auditorium.

I hadn’t even thought about the audience.  I am used to the Met’s regular, pre-COVID theatre HD shows which spend time, before the start and during the intermissions, scanning the audience (we once saw a lady holding up a sign which read “Bonjour Paris”), but when the streaming show began, no audience scan.  I just assumed Europeans did their HD presentations differently or that the video had been edited.  However, at the end of the performance I was shocked at how thin the applause sounded.  Then, as the camera pulled out for the curtain calls, I saw that the only audience was the orchestra. 

Amazing …

Those singer/actors were playing without an audience and they sang and acted their hearts out.  I doubt they would have done better were it SRO.  Such dedication.  

I’m glad I got to see it.  And I will never again be able to see Rosenkavalier in the traditional light.

~~~

 Since we can all use a giggle …

As I have been sorting my life leftovers I have re-found several genealogically important pictures and some other items that I needed to send on to other folks.  So, after I picked up my script for Amoxicillin yesterday, I went to the post office with three envelopes and a package … one to Redding, one to Idaho, one to Texas, and one to Indonesia.  Poor, clerk.  She was sort of new and those requests put her through the wringer.

They all contained irreplaceable stuff so insurance would be useless, and since the country seems to be suffering a spate of mail robberies, I insisted on registering safety measures.

(As an aside … never use clear mailing tape on any overseas envelope or package … the law requires opaque tape.  Can’t imagine why, but it does.)

But back to the story …

It was darker inside than out (surprise?), so I took off my dark glasses in order to better see the interaction info on that little screen.  But when I got back to the car, and settled into my seat belt, … no dark glasses.  

When I had arrived at the post office, I was the only customer.  When I left, a line had developed.

I went back in to ask if my glasses had been placed on the counter or aside anywhere and all those in line allowed me to skip ahead to inquire.  I explained to the clerk and asked if she had found my glasses.  Her reply was (are you ready or have you gotten ahead of my story?) “The ones on your head?”

I started to laugh.  So did all those in line.  

So, sheepishly, I said “It is wednesday, right?”

More laughs.

One lady said “None of us have ever done that.”

Another person said “I’m not sure.  It was monday when I woke up this morning.”

So, in spite of my aching mouth, we all had smiles to start the day.

Mark called it “community building.”

~~~

But just one more thing about opera …

Opera this last week began with one by Philip Glass … Satyagraha.

I realize Glass is an acquired taste and I am grateful I accidentally met his work via a PBS program and acquired the taste.

This is only the second of his operas I’ve seen, but I’ve become a listener to other of his compositions.  Did you know he did the score for the Hours, the film about Virginia Wolfe and those who read her work?  Talk about mood music … it earned him an Oscar nomination, of which he’s had six so far.

But back to Satyagraha … the opera is sung all in Sanskrit (which none of the singers speaks) repeated and repeated in Glass’s minimalist style while the set and action tell the story.   There are minimal English translations with projections onto stage sets and props as well as closed captioning.  So the sets, actions, and music are the things on which to concentrate and sort of just let whatever words there are flow. 

Satyagraha is based on Ghandi’s time in South Africa opposing apartheid and starts around those from whom he learned (Tolstoy and Tagore) and ends with one who learned from him (Martin Luther King).  There was minimal staging with unusual props … similar to the use of jugglers in Akhnaten but this time with stilt walkers and huge paper mache puppets (each requiring 5 operators) and newsprint and postal wrapping tape … on an essentially bare stage.

I was left with a renewed affirmation for Ghandi-style of persistent non-resisting resistance and found myself wishing the young resisters of today had been exposed more to that style of seeking Justice.

 I realize most of you will never see the opera, but I’m telling you about it anyhow since it was an experience which is part of what is turning out to be my COVID induced excursion into not-the-usual opera.

I might tackle Glass’s Appomattox next … or maybe watch Scorsese’s Kundun.

~~~

I had some dark days this past week.  Here, from an indigenous poet, I offer …

For times when life seems dark

And sorrow grows around you,

I bring you this thought …

Run with flames to light the darkness.

Anchor in the Earth like a tree.

Flow as the rivers and rise up like the mountains.

Life is bringing you surprises.

I send you this wish.  It is named and brings to you … 

Hope.

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Mornings have been consistently clear and bright for several days until yesterday when we had just enough showers to wash away the dust.  

The sun is rising due east.  Checking the place of the sunrise has become a habit.  Have I told you that George and I checked the sunrise and sunset on the day of the Winter Solstice in order to site the house so it got the most time facing the sun on the shortest day of the year?  

Yes?  

Well, I just did it again.

~~~

Since before I can remember, I have known about the Princess Elizabeth.  We are of an age.  When I think about it, I can remember pictures of her as we were growing up.   She met Prince Philip when she was 13.  I met George when I was 15.  Shorty after she married, I married.  Our children are close in age. 

While our lives were not the same, they were parallel.

So I was saddened when her partner died.  I know that loss.  

I will not write condolences since at times like this words are never really adequate … and she would never see any correspondence from me anyhow.  But she has joined all grieving widows in my thoughts.

~~~

I told you last week about Paul’s new habit of playing with endings to “See you later” such as a week from tuesday, or when I graduate college, or some other silly time designation.

You also know I try to end each blog with a “profound” thought and last week it had to do with the circular property of time.  Well … a cousin took me to task.  He said I missed a chance for a good pun.  He thinks I should have ended with “So … see you around.”

He also suggested something along the line of “ I’ll see you the next time a month has five sundays.”  Any guesses about how often that occurs?  I checked and there are three more this year.

~~~

I have long been interested in the King Arthur legends, as I suppose many of us are because of books and movies.  My interest was abetted by contacts with Geoffrey Ashe who is a recognized expert on the Arthur of southwestern England, i.e. the tales centered on Tintagel, Cadbury Hill, and Glastonbury.  It was exciting to visit those places, and Ashe’s thoughts and beliefs certainly are compelling.

However, I have recently come across an alternative Arthur … first through a novel about the forgotten Queen and her twin who became Merlin.  I told you about that when I was reading the Lost Queen by Signe Pike.

Pike cited research by two authors … Adam Ardrey and Nicholai Tolstoy.  Their research points to an Arthur whose origins were in the border area between the Britons and the Anglos, in what is now southern Scotland, where one of the clan chiefs was known as “Pendragon” (but his name was actually not Uther).  Wow …

I have just started reading Finding Arthur by Ardrey.  Sometime in the next month or two I’ll tackle both Ardrey’s Finding Merlin and the Coming of the King by Tolstoy.  I have no idea where my understanding of Arthur will wind up, or if it even matters.  I am however looking forward to exploring the alternant theory  concerning the reality (or not) of King Arthur. 

Maybe I ought to be taking notes since there may be a quiz later.

~~~

Mark’s call to Jury duty took up a full two days for selection, but he wasn’t seated.  His experience was a lot different than mine have ever been over the several times I’ve been called, mainly due to COVID.  At least he won’t be tied down in court for several days.

~~~

Anyone ever heard of Sour Orange Pie?  I recently saw a recipe which said it was the sweet/sour predecessor to Key Lime.   Since the recipe calls for a special type of orange (Seville – which is said to be extra sour and to have come to the Americas with the Spanish explorers), and since those oranges are probably not available most places, the recipe mixes orange and lemon juice in a sweet (animal cookies) crust. 

The recipe picture shows it with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream.  I wonder how it would taste as a meringue?

It sounds like a treat, so I think I’ll give it a try as soon as things settle and I have the chance.  

~~~

Last monday I watched Strauss’ Rosenkavalier presented by the Bavarian State Opera with a mezzo I’ve been following ever since I saw her in a Met production of Carmen before the pandemic cut off the HD performances.  

Wow … those Germans really know how to do sensuous and they had a lot of fun with this story as well.  In the scene where the young lover of the Marschallin is sent to deliver the familial token silver rose to the expected bride of his cousin, the room walls are created by huge paintings of amorous nudes (some s&m) and when the horse drawn Coach carrying Octavio arrives and its door opens it becomes a circus clown car with at least a dozen footmen exiting before Octavio. 

It is an interesting opera because the three love leads are all sung by females … two sopranos and a mezzo.  The story goes that Strauss wrote a beautiful trio (which he requested be performed at his funeral) for female voice ranges, so one of them had to be sung by a woman acting the part of a man who during the opera pretends to be a woman before going back to being the male lover of both women.  Mezzos are often assigned “pants” roles since their voices are lower than sopranos.  And that makes me wonder if opera has any alto voices.  I’ll have to look for that information.

Are you confused yet?  

The Fleming/Garanca version at the Met (which was Fleming’s farewell to the MET just before the pandemic) was very good.  I’m a fan of both those Divas, but I have to admit the Bavarian version was more fun.

And so this session of Music 101: Introduction to Opera staging and its impact ends.

~~~

As I sit here typing, and looking out the window, the air is filled with flying bud covers off the birches.  They are small and catch the morning sun as they sail with the breeze.  It is sort of like the beginning of a light snow.

Enchanting …

~~~

And as a final note …

The pussy willows are budded out with their soft, grey puff balls.

The dogwoods are blossoming.  The drive down the canyon to Redding can be especially beautiful this time of year with dogwoods and redbuds in bloom.

Soon the firs will begin displaying their bright, light green tip growth.  That is one gift for my birthday every year.

As a result, my final word this week is …

May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.  And may you always await and appreciate Spring.

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

One of my grandmothers often said … Better to be a day late and a dollar short than to never arrive.

Oh well …

~~~

It is day 390 since the lockdown here in California and the daily death rate in the US has slowed.

As a result of my vaccination a week ago tuesday, last thursday I felt tired and the injection site was sore to the touch, a bit swollen, and just a touch feverish.  At other times, when I’ve taken the “flu” shot, by this time I’d still be sore all over, feverish, and flat abed. So this is an improvement. 

~~~

Yesterday was interesting.

We are in the process of selling this land as is … no bargaining … cash and it’s yours.

I choose to not be around when someone is here to look.  I no longer do funerals either.  I prefer my memories to end with something other than sadness … sooooooooooooooo I went away yesterday morning and found a spot in the surrounding trees where I could sit and read.  Hence no blog.

But today is another day.

~~~

Current read is titled The book of two ways (sic) by an author I’ve never read and about whom I know nothing since the bio blurb at the end of the book tells nothing but the titles of her other books.  No personal information.

This book’s center is death, but not at all morbid.  There are parallel story lines set in Boston and an archaeological dig in Egypt.  In one the main character is a death doula.  In the other she is a grad student working on a dissertation.

Lots of ideas and beliefs presented, such as the sameness of birth and death … i.e. the transition from a known environment into the unknown.  I anticipate some of those ideas popping up for contemplation and exploration at unexpected times.

A challenge …

~~~

Spring continues to advance.  The red maple is trading bright red buds for softer red new leaves.  The meadow is greening.  Iris leaves are breaking through signaling only a month or so until blooms.  When the dog is in the house, the does are returning to wander across the meadow through my view out the south windows.  The sand cranes are back.  I heard their raspy cries along with the calls of the migrating geese and saw the first of the ducks on the reservoir.

Storing up memories.

~~~

Mark was called for jury selection last week.  He has never been called.  He was still underage for jury duty when he left home and all the years in between he was ineligible, as per New York State laws, either as an active law enforcement officer or a pastor.

There are currently three murder trials awaiting hearings in this county.  That feels so foreign to me.  I don’t remember any local murder(s) the first thirty years of our residence here.  

As a result of the pandemic, legalities backed up and, since New York exemptions don’t hold here, he was called.  He is honest, moral, and intelligent.  Those attributes could work either way when lawyers are selecting jurors.

Stay tuned.

~~~

Paul is back in the classroom full time.  They wear masks all the time “except when we’re eating”.  

There is one troubled child in his class who is disruptive and Paul’s evaluation of his own day is often couched in terms of what kind of a day M had.  

Lessons come in many forms.

~~~

I had some “bored” time earlier this week and found my way back into genealogy.  As a result I found a new kind of boredom.  

I was researching the family Bigod who provided two of the Surety Barons who impelled King John to sign the Magna Carta back in 1215. 

The overall history is captivating. 

The personal history became boringly repetitious.  Names were Richard, Hugh, Roger, William, Maud (Margaret), Alice, Isabel, Agnes, Eleanor, Joan … traded with families Marshall, deClare, plus one or two others and they repeat in various combinations over several generations as do titles.  I need a huge wall on which to plot them out with push pins and colored strings.

How can something be both boring and intriguing?

I anticipate many more hours sorting.

~~~

As a result of that research, the following observation seems fitting.

Time is a great circle: there is no beginning, no end.  All returns again and again forever.

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Spring seems to be sprung … everyone slept-in friday morning, Good Friday and no school.  

I was reading while sipping my first cuppa when the clock struck the hour.  I expected 0700. Actually, it was 0800.  The hens were talkative, but not scolding when I got out there. 

However, I had a teary moment.  The wind in the treetops sounded like gentle surf, and flights of geese were talking about arriving at one of their rest stops on their way north.  

Things I will sorely miss …

~~~

Two more old age reminders … there was a ZOOM memorial service last saturday for the woman who lived next door to us in Pomona (we were at 1462 Claremont Place).  She was a couple of years younger than me and her son was 2 years younger than my oldest so the families were close until we moved to Northridge.

And friday I learned a long time resident here on Hammond Ranch died in his sleep early last week.  My memory of him was often seeing him out on his bicycle on his way to yoga classes or the gym, so I always thought of him as being quite healthy.  Hadn’t seen him in a while, but then I don’t get out as much as I used to either.  A clear memory is of the times, back when George was keeping bees (which would have been before 1980) when we brought his wife Bonnie up here to let her put her hands into the hive for the stings.  She had bad arthritis and bees stings are said to be, if not curative, at least palliative.  I  thought, at the time, that was sort of like sticking your foot in a fire to treat a headache … foot would hurt so bad you’d forget about the headache.

At any rate … two more from my younger years now gone.  

Oh well …

~~~

But I also had a life-affirming invitation.  My niece’s older daughter will be Bat Mitzvah at the family’s Temple in LA next year, or via ZOOM, as was her brother’s Bar Mitzvah, depending on COVID.

~~~

Following the end of the WW I books I’d been caught in for the last couple three weeks, by the end of last week my reading took me to Ireland … without any heavy brogue, Harlequin panting, or politics.  It was a nice change.  

While spending time in that Irish village, I saw a post on Facebook which said to not be shy about writing to an author when something about one of their books catches or touches you.  I’ve done that and each time I received a personal response.  

One time I wrote to the author of the Pern books to tell her the butterfly tattoo on my back had morphed into a dragon.  Her response was a giggle.  I still have the letter.

Another time I wrote to Tony Hillerman after getting caught up in his Leaphorn stories.  I wondered where I could find hardback copies of some of the early books since all I had for those were paperbacks.  In return I got a postcard telling me they were available at a bookstore in Albuquerque.  Hillerman gave me the name and address of the store, so I contacted the owner and wound up receiving three personally signed volumes (autographs written in Navajo).  I still have all the Hillermans in hardback.

Another time I wrote to a British author who is a King Arthur scholar and whom I had met when I was in Glastonbury.  He lives at the foot of Glastonbury Tor, in Dian Fortune’s house, and had demonstrated a “kissing” gate while the tour group I was with was visiting at one of the possible sites for Camelot.  Geoffrey and I still correspond sporadically.  I’m now 90 and he’s 98.  

Parts of the last of the Great War books I read touched me.  So maybe I will write to another author.  Let the author of the Russell-Holmes books beware.

And speaking of WW I, I learned that in 2001 a memorial was unveiled in England behind which stands a field of crosses, one for each Commonwealth soldier who faced Death at Dawn.  A review of the cases had begun in 1997 and in 1998 their names were added to all national War Memorials.  

However, no posthumous pardons have been issued.

In addition I will be looking to watch a tv show titled To Serve Them All My Days, a title based (I think) on one of the speeches made by Elizabeth II when she was very young.  The series had been suggested by a friend as a result of my blog notes.

~~~

Other signs of Spring …

The appearance of bright red buds all over the red maple.

Some budding on the birches. Of course the catalpa will be delayed another month at least. 

Manzanita bushes are turning pink with buds.

Daffodils are pushing up all over the place.

I don’t remember Spring being so attention demanding when I lived in Southern California but it sure makes a statement up here.

~~~

I finally got my COVID vaccination yesterday.  I opted for the Johnson & Johnson so that will be it.  All the family adults got their shots so in two weeks we’ll be fully protected.

To celebrate, the family went out to dinner at the “Original” Black Bear Diner.  Those diners started with a couple of guys here in Mt Shasta and are now a wide-spread franchise.  The quality of the food had fallen off a bit before COVID, but the pandemic seems to have pushed them to get back to basics.  Our meals were very good.  I think I’ve already told you that the breakfast I had there a week or so ago with friends (a two egg ham and cheese omelet with hash browns and sourdough toast) was so big it fed me for lunch/dinner the same evening and breakfast the following morning.  Yesterday Kamille had that order for dinner and brought home her breakfast for this morning.  I had the Cobb Salad and have leftovers for today’s (and possibly tomorrow’s) lunch.

Both Mark and Paul cleaned their plates.

I did have a giggle when the server asked what kind of dressing I wanted on my salad.  When you’re having a Cobb, which includes generous chunks of blue cheese, why would you want anything other than blue cheese dressing?

As you know, I am an advocate for stopping for a meal in Weed at the HiLo when traveling I-5.  I now offer a choice of that or the Black Bear in Mt Shasta.  Both are easy off-on from the freeway.

~~~

The other excitement for the week was that I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my right knee (popping out of joint occasionally) but without pain.  Monday morning it gave me a twinge when I got out of bed.  By afternoon I couldn’t put any weight on it.  I had to use George’s cane to get around at all and it was painfully slow going.  

Tuesday it was some better.  Mark had helped me learn how to use the cane and Paul advised I find the position in which it hurt the least and concentrate on keeping my leg in that position.  He had just had a similar experience with one of his little  fingers.  Aren’t kids great?

By evening I was getting the hang of using the cane, but it was still a bit slow.  The least painful position is not bent, toes pointing straight forward, and directly under my hip joint … just in case you’re wondering.

This morning I’m following the positioning and my speed is improving.  I’ll be checking it out when I next see my primary care giver, but I anticipate the solution will be physical therapy and a knee brace.

~~~

Here to end the week …

The chief beauty about time is that you cannot waste it in advance.

       —  Arnold Bennett

So ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

 First, the weather report …

Wednesday … early morning snow with no accumulation.

Thursday … the same but with late afternoon and evening overcast.

Friday … sun, need boots with grippers for only a very short stretch on the way to the chicken house.

Saturday … sunshine and pie for breakfast and no need for boots with grippers.

Sunday … saw this on the web and had to share …

There are thousands of wildflower species in the United States alone. Many of the ones we see have come from somewhere else not unlike most of us who now call this land home.  They are intrepid immigrants seeking a hospitable home to set down roots. Like all of life, they grow, flower, and disappear into memory.   One underrated quality of wildflowers is their persistence.   They are, like the season of spring, a sign of rebirth, of the resilience of nature. They are precarious, easily plucked, and yet in their aggregate they provide a sense of seasonal stability.

Monday … to town for chicken feed and lunch with friends.

Tuesday … Mark’s birthday, sun, nip in the air but welcome heat from the solarium

Today (so far) … bright sun

~~~ 

Tyler’s birthday dinner last wednesday was at a local Mexican restaurant of his choice, Casa Ramos.  Just the family and a couple of his friends.  He had requested that, rather than gifts, donations be made to the local humane society where he works.  He set a goal of $200 and raised over $300.  As he said … every little bit helps.

~~~

The Senior Luncheons sponsored by Weed Local Resources groups, cancelled last year by COVID, is gearing up to resume. 

In addition, the HiLo (which I have mentioned multiple times) has opened for indoor eating again, but with restrictions, … of course.  To celebrate the return of fewer restrictions, my lunch buddies (Mary and Darlene) and I did lunch on our own last monday.

The HiLo does splendid omelets and Mary swears by the steak with biscuits and gravy.

~~~

Johnson & Johnson vaccine seems to be far and away the choice of many.  The local Rite Aid doesn’t require (or even allow) appointments which means you have to walk in and ask if they have vaccine and what kind they have.  So, whenever I go to town I check.  This week they had vaccines but no Johnson and Johnson.

I’ll keep checking.  When it is my time, they’ll say “yes”.

~~~

 Last week I started a new series of mysteries, this time by the mother and son team who call themselves Charles Todd.  This first in the series is titled Trial by Will … ambiguous title.  However, the really interesting thing is that the last few mysteries I’ve read (each by different authors, each suggested by different book reviews, and each published at widely spaced times by different publishers) have dealt with shell shock during and following the Great War, WW  I.

Just as a pandemic destruction of the then current society seems to have been a nearly universal collection of thoughts about civilization in books by various authors, all written and published twenty or thirty years ago, the thoughts in my current reading seem to be centered post 1916.  That means they deal with how “shell shock” (i.e. PTSD) was handled and one fact that we never learned in history lessons came to light.  During that war there were field executions for things like cowardice, desertion, refusal to follow orders to advance out of the trenches into predictable shooting galleries without adequate cover, complaints about beatings from senior officers, etc.  Who knows how many since they were held often without trials, (due to being seen as essential and ordered performed by unit mates or subordinates of the condemned as a means of control by “example” in order to prevent mutiny) and were often, if not mostly, noted on death certificates as simply “Died in service”.  Somehow most of the pertinent records were lost, probably in the trenches, or at least that would appear to be the official position.

I have no idea what has led me to these books, but the message is coming through very clearly … at least to me.

Humans would seem to be made with an inborn need to destroy themselves and all around them.

I wonder what the next theme to show up on my haphazard reading list will be?  

~~~  

On a lighter note, since I still have trouble taking care of my toenails and haven’t seen a professional since before the winter holidays, I have an appointment for a treat … a pedicure and even a manicure since I’ll already be there.

~~~

To end the week, here is a definition for some thought …

ambedo … a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory detail – raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees in a wind, cream in your coffee — soaking in the experience of being alive; an act done for no discernable reason, purely for its own sake

… or as was said by Bob Marley … some people get wet, some people feel the rain.

This week may you have one or two (or even more) ambedo moments.

So ‘til next week …