Good morning, to you!
Lord, am I old. Remember singing that song in early grade school, just before duck and cover drills in the hallway? If so, I guess you’re old, too. I’m creaking this morning-in my joints and my back…Hush, Babette.
The problem is, apparently, I’m not old enough. There will be no inversions for me at yoga today, I fear. What’s UP with this? Remember those studies that talked about the "alpha" females in dormitories, who could get every other female on the floor in sync with her ebb and flow? So, first I had that heated and emotionally charged encounter with the Snarl, then I went home to conduct stressful business and then I sat down to lunch with all those women friends. And although they have ALL, to a one, conquered this phase of life, they still reeked of womanhood in all the best ways. It was one loud happy table full of nurturing, compassionate, funny and loving womankind. We talked about children and parents and yarn and work and books and food and diets and made plans for a giant Lake Michigan sleepover in a few months.
I wallowed in it like a pig in slop.
So, this is my reward. Dammit. Did you know that llamas, rabbits and ferrets all ovulate AFTER intercourse? (Hence, the expression, "reproducing like a rabbit.") Right. Well, that was me. I can tell you this. No woman ever knew more about available methods of birth control than I did, being a one-time learner and all.(Hush, Babette) Now, I’m thinking I’ll make it into the Guinness Book of World Records but I’m still determined to go menopause alone (translation: avoiding finding a new gynecologist in Chicago).
In the meantime, I’ve decided I’m just not very highly evolved. There’s a reason I’m more drawn to garden dirt, the sea and the tides, the moon, the sun and soft fur. It’s a good week when I read The Week in Review. Newspapers are wasted on me. Books, yes. I do indeed read books. I have two good ones going now and thank goodness I finished the De Blasi books, 1000 Nights in Venice and Tuscany. I was just getting fatter and fatter on fine Italian food, reading those. In the end, I was skipping ahead to find the next recipe for Bruschetta rather than read about her life (Mary, it’s on page 247, in the Tuscany book).
Music. I listen to music. AND THAT REMINDS ME! (Okay, I do read the news.) How could thousands of people race past Joshua Bell playing in the Washington, DC metro station and not stop to listen ? Listen, people! I can’t believe it. There is no where on earth I would need to get to so fast that I wouldn’t stop in my tracks and sit down on a filthy floor and listen. (Your turn, Babette. Name that tune.)
Speaking of filthy floors, yesterday we took the homeless youngsters from the family shelter to the Dali Museum. What a hoot. These children, who don’t know peace of mind, security, stability or prosperity? They knew great art. The picture within a picture theme was the one we played on and they delighted in finding hidden symbols, faces and forms in these masterpieces. They sat on the floor absolutely fixated on The Discovery of America, a masterwork painted in 1959. When they heard the story of the sea urchin-like object in the middle of the foreground they gasped. Really. They went, "ah?!" Oh. You don’t know the story? A friend asked Dali why he added that and what it meant, since the painting was already chock full of symbolism and imagery. Dali replied, "You shall see." Just as the painting depicts Christopher Columbus taking that one small/giant step onto America, Dali was predicting something- another small/giant step- that would happen a decade later. When Armstrong stood on the moon, Dali’s friend called him and said, "NOW I understand!" and Dali replied, "What took you so long?" This from a man who said the wing tips of his mustache picked up signals from outer space.
I love the time I spend with the shelter children. They always want hugs and laps and all the attention you can give them. I always want lots of Purell at the end of the day. One of my favorites was moving out and on with his mother and sister last night; that’s a good thing. The whole point of the program. But he was sad on the field trip because these other children have become his friends and family while his mother has been getting back on her feet and he has felt secure and happy living there. I will miss him and be hoping for the best.
Anyway, I’m rambling here and going nowhere when actually I’m supposed to be writing a post in response to a meme I got tagged for by Roxanne. And I need to move quickly because the meme is going around this neighborhood like wildfire because everyone is so clever. Except me. I am bloated, earthy, too old but not old enough and so influenced by hormones, pheromones, tides and urchins it isn’t even funny.
GOOD PLANETS! I’m the hostess this week and I’m looking forward to a slew of beautiful photographs. Maybe I’ll even get some from those of you who read here but don’t know about GOOD PLANETS. Twice this month, on Saturdays, I will be posting your images of this most astonishingly beautiful earth. I’ll probably take advantage of it and remind you of your duty to be a good steward, too. Send your photos; see the side bar. All photos will be sized down enough to allow the post to easily load so you could do me a favor and send them that way, but I can do it (maybe) if they come larger. Speaking of impressionable, here are these darling orphan ducklings that the Snarl raised a couple Springs past. Submitted photos will be about this size.