Looking for ice

When my Nanny died, we all had to travel to the funeral. NONE of her children or grandchildren lived nearby. So, we were all piled up in a hotel and taking care of the business of getting her buried and as much of the household stuff taken care of as we could.

People brought food to the house, omigod the food! We did NOT have to worry about what to eat. Or drink. Bottles of soda and jugs of tea came in, too. But, her freezer couldn’t handle the load. There were 12 immediate family members, plus friends and extended family coming by to offer condolences.

So, my husband, brother-in-law and cousin’s husband made an ice run. When they came back, they were all hurting themselves laughing.

The first Kwik Stop place they went to didn’t have an ice chest out front, so they went in to ask if they even carried ice. The girl behind the counter drawled, “Naw, we don’t have ice, but we got come nice night crawlers.”

Because those 2 things are interchangeable. :joy_cat:

Non-objective

I have been a fan of Wassily Kandinsky ever since I first saw a picture of his work.

And it puzzled me because I don’t (didn’t) really get abstract art. And I presumed Kandinsky was doing abstracts.

I was wrong.

Recently, I was at a gallery show with artists hanging around to meet the public. (Last Friday in Hillsborough) Lolette Guthrie was one of the artists at the Hillsborough Gallery of Art and we had a very brief conversation. She explained her Summer at the Coast to me.

There is a line that is the beach. There is a line that is highway that parallels the beach. There is blue that is the ocean and there is blue that is the sound. I don’t entirely get abstraction. But, I have a better understanding.

So, a couple of months after that, I was in Charleston and there was an exhibition at the #Gibbes Museum of Art that included work by #Kandinsky. I learned that there is #non-objective art. Art that doesn’t represent, in whatever form, objects. Rather, it creates a mood, a feeling, using space and color and shapes. And it resonates so much for me.

It just grabs me by the heart.

Downy

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Look who’s back!

We don’t see woodpeckers often and they’re skittish.  So, I’m tickled when they do show up.  In the past, it’s been late January or early February before they’ve made appearances.  I’m not sure if this simply means that they know we will feed them or if this is a bad sign for the coming Winter.

The Dead by the Side of the Road

THE DEAD BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

How did a great Red-tailed Hawk
come to lie—all stiff and dry—
on the shoulder of
Interstate 5?

Her wings for dance fans

Zac skinned a skunk with a crushed head
washed the pelt in gas; it hangs,
tanned, in his tent

Fawn stew on Hallowe’en
hit by a truck on highway forty-nine
offer cornmeal by the mouth;
skin it out.

Log trucks run on fossil fuel

I never saw a Ringtail til I found one in the road:
case-skinned it with the toenails
footpads, nose, and whiskers on;
it soaks in salt and water
sulphuric acid pickle;

she will be a pouch for magic tools.

The Doe was apparently shot
lengthwise and through the side—
shoulder and out the flank
belly full of blood

Can save the other shoulder maybe,
if she didn’t lie too long—
Pray to their spirits. Ask them to bless us:
our ancient sisters’ trails
the roads were laid across and kill them:
night-shining eyes

The dead by the side of the road.

~Gary Snyder
    Turtle Island

 

Yoga philosophy

Patanjali’s 8 Limbs of Yoga

Yamas (Restraints)
– Ahimsa (non-harming)
– Satya (non-lying)
– Asteya (non-stealing)
– Brahmacharya (of Brahma)
– Aparigraha (non-hoarding)

Niyamas (Observances)
– Soucha (cleanliness)
– Santosha (contentment)
– Tapas (zeal for yoga)
– Svadyaya (self-study)
– Ishvarapranidhana (surrender)

Asana (pose)

Pranayama (breath)

Pratyahara (withdrawal of the senses)

Dharana (intense focus)

Dhyana (state of meditation)

Samadhi (state of oneness)

Bat flower plant

Chuck and I went adventuring into Virginia last Thursday, looking for a labyrinth in Boydton. Coming home, we stopped at Cedar Creek Gallery in Creedmoor, NC. (It’s right off I-85, and worth a visit.) In addition to a gallery and studios, they have lovely gardens and a little plant sale area.

I wandered over to the plants (as I must) and found a bat flower blooming its heart out. I have seen pictures of them, but had never seen one in person. And they had a relatively small one (with no blossoms) for sale for $5.

It’s a terrestrial orchid and needs low light and high humidity. I accidentally did the right thing when I repotted it with extra vermiculite in the mix. I have it up against the back wall of my house where it gets early morning sun and it seems to be happy there. For now. When nighttime temps get close to 50ºF/10ºC, we will bring it into the living room and put a humidifier nearby.

I have friends who think I have a green thumb.  I think I am simply willing to give a plant a shot.  And I read the instructions that come on those little tags.  (That wasn’t a lesson quickly learned.)  And my yard has all the choices for sun.

I think the trick to keeping plants, is finding things that like what you have to offer.  If you tend to want to water a lot, don’t get cacti or succulents.  If you have a tendency to forget to water, go for those.  And don’t beat yourself up if the plants you wish you could grow don’t love your climate.

When I lived in Charleston, SC, I had a collection of bromeliads and all of them bloomed for me.  I moved from that house to a different angle and amount of sun and they all died.  My care didn’t change, but the environment did.  That has affected my plant expectations since then.

My dad died

I believe in the Big Bang and I believe it is the breath of God and it is God. Exhale creation, inhale entropy. And it is all Now. That part of the Now that forms into Ingram is part of Us before we are born and part of Us when we separate out of the moment we inhabit as individual particles and return to the greatness of All. And the part of Creation that was his life is still happening.

I am still laughing with my grandmother. I am still gossiping with my dad. I am still holding my infant son and I am still fucking up all they ways that I did that, too. And my future is unknown to me, but it is already happening, too. Not as it is supposed to happen, simply as it does happen.

So, that part of the liturgy that talks about “as it was and is and evermore shall be” really works for me. My dad is with me forever, I just can’t hold his hand any more.  The particle of Now that is “me” misses that and cries sometime.

I do not believe that the Breath and God are separate.  I believe Singularity.