This is what happens if your barber is an anti-masker…
last haircut 11/19/2019…
Gimme a head with hair
Long, beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming
Streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer (Hair!)
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy
Hair, hair, hair, hair, Hair, hair, hair
Grow it, show it
Long as I can grow it
My hair
… by James Rado/Gerome Ragni
The sound of the wind,, like a distant train, woke me this morning. It didn’t wake me Up, but rather woke me Down, with the plaintive refrain of the Son Volt song, “Windfall” stuck in my brain:
“Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel, May the wind take your troubles away…”
It’s still stuck there, though I’ve been piddling around here for hours trying to cheer myself up.
Went for a physical exam this week and was thrilled to find that I’m in excellent shape for an old broad. Had the grandkids over on Wednesday, took them to Barnes & Noble on Saturday and that’s always Fun. So what’s my problem? Could it be that Mars is in retrograde right now? Or is it the shift in barometric pressures with all this Weather?
The relief that I experienced just after the election dissipated as my focus went back to the pandemic. The compassion I feel for nurses and healthcare workers is overwhelming me. The Indiana Department of Health has kept me on their list for call-outs, and I got a notice the other day that many of our hospitals are in dire need and requesting volunteers. I’m way too far from my hospital days and would be more of a hindrance than a help, but I feel guilty. My heart is heavy with the suffering.
But then, we all know people now who have had Covid and have not gotten sick. Their message is, hey it’s not that bad. The fact that we’re able to treat the infection better now, especially if you have access to $100,000 therapies, seems to embolden some, as well. It looks rather hopeless — not for me, because I wear a mask; not for the folks refusing to wear a mask, because they don’t care; but for the hospitals and nursing homes and the people who need care and the folks who provide it. I am fervently praying for them.
My son-in-law, Eric, buried his beloved mother on Saturday up in Indy, that swamp of corona. Sonya Torres Jose’ was a Wonderful Woman and I was proud to be her friend. She had been ill for a while, finally passed on November 2. She was a widow for nearly 20 years, and I know her boys are comforted to think of her and their Dad together again, dancing in heaven.
While I worried about Eric traveling, there’s the cognitive dissonance from planning a trip during this time… We’re going to Disney World to celebrate Casey’s birthday, leaving the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Disney is doing a great job of enforcing their mask and social distancing guidelines and it’s seriously the Only Place I feel safe to visit…
The Wind is still huffing puffing like the Big Bad Wolf, sending the dried leaves swirling like cyclones across the garden, as the sun peeps in and out from behind the scurrying clouds. There’s a cozy book-chair waiting for me to curl up and work my way through my “To Read” list.
Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer, and I promise I’ll snap out of it soon, but that’s the way I’m feeling this second Sunday in November…
Now and then it keeps you running
It never seems to die
The trail’s spent with fear
Not enough living on the outside
Never seem to get far enough
Staying in between the lines
Hold on to what you can
Waiting for the end
Not knowing when
May the wind take your troubles away
May the wind take your troubles away
Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel,
May the wind take your troubles away
Trying to make it far enough, to the next time zone
Few and far between past the midnight hour
Never feel alone, you’re really not alone
from “Windfall” by Son Volt…
Peace
“The piano ain’t got no wrong notes.” …Thelonious Monk
I will never forget how I felt four years ago: a sense of doom permeated my perspective. My post-election blog post attempted to put a good light on the situation, urging us all to come together. I had to take it down, as within 24 hours, the tweets that were to dominate our news for the next four years were proof to me that we truly were doomed. By the time of his inauguration, it was clear to me that he is mentally ill. I joined groups, held signs, got blocked by family and friends, made new friends. It didn’t stop his erratic, self-serving, lying behavior; in fact, it only triggered him to more retribution on anyone who wanted him out of office…(now we know it was about 76million of us).
A friend posted something on FB just after the 2016 election that stuck with me. He said, if you’re waking up every morning feeling sick, now you know how the rest of us felt every morning for eight years of Obama.
That friend is now taking his turn waking up every morning feeling sick and I feel for him, sending Love. However, Joe Biden is not going to launch retaliatory, vengeful, or hostile acts or pursue a personal vendetta against those who are feeling doomed right now. I promise.
“To make progress, we have to stop treating our opponents as enemies.
We are not enemies. “
President-Elect Joe Biden
I have tried my best to avoid politics on this blog, partly because I don’t write that kind of report well, and partly because I know my readers don’t all share my political persuasions. But in every one of these moments when you have to Stand for Something, I have Stood for Peace. I pray for Peace in the World, across the planet, throughout the Universe; peace for every human being. I work prayerfully for Peace in my heart and soul, hoping that it may be contagious.
My sincere hope is that Americans can reconcile, find some common ground. Maybe that ground is closer than we thought…Check out this article…
Whatever-happens-next-Americans-are-pretty-sure-they-want-to-be-stoned-when-it-does
While we stood still, the breezes through the trees sent the leaves rustling to the ground in heaps of colour. The sun has been brilliant, the skies blue, and the temperatures warm, so I’ve been outside enjoying. Stay Strong, dear friends.
Peace
This election has me rather stunned, though I had thought to steel myself for Anything. Anything is what we got, but I feel like we’re playing Freeze Dance and the DJ walked away leaving me frozen on one foot, waiting to exhale.
Interesting tidbit: In small towns and counties, it’s not unusual (about 40 in 500) for a single vote to put a candidate in the winner’s circle and Ties do happen. There are a variety of ways in which tied elections are settled. Some are decided by drawing lots or other games of chances. Others lead to a runoff or special election. Still others are decided by some third party such as the legislature or a high-ranking elected official. In one case in Crawfordsville, Indiana, in 1891, it was settled with a 200-yard footrace. In that case William Simms seemed to be cruising to an easy victory for County Treasurer when he tripped and fell 3 yards from the finish line allowing Frank Hollowell to win the race instead.
A footrace between our Presidential candidates sounds pretty pathetic, but maybe a game of chance? Trivial pursuit, baby boomer edition?
Before the Bush v. Gore debacle in 2000, there had been only three presidents elected without a plurality of the popular votes. Since then, it has happened twice, now possibly three times, but that’s the way we do it here in America, where the losers win in the electoral college.
It’s a beautiful day and we all need to go for a walk, doncha think? Inhale. Exhale. Don’t worry. Everything is okay.
Peace, Peeps…
One of my early memories, from about age 7, is of the day after the 1960 Election Day. We were living up in Gary, Indiana and mom was a Republican deputy precinct committeewoman. She had risen at 4 a.m. to get to the polls on Election Day, where she worked from 6am to 6pm checking voter registrations and signatures. She and her cohorts had then gone down to Repub HQ, taking the ballots to be counted, and to watch the returns, rooting for Richard Nixon to be our next prez. I’d been long asleep by the time she returned home, but she had stayed up all night watching the TV coverage, especially the late-breaking returns from nearby Cook County in Illinois. When Mayor Daly’s Machine delivered the vote to JFK, Mom was outraged…
I just remember her still crying as she sent us off to school, insisting that the Democrats in Chicago had “stolen” the election from Nixon… Pundits now claim this to be a myth, but my Mom believed it then and so did I, of course, giving me an early introduction to the shady world of politics and elections.
Shortly after that election day we moved to Eville, where Mom plunged right back in to working for the GOP. From 1960 until 2000, she worked the polls, becoming Precinct Committeewoman down here during the 60s; continued as an election official in Washington, IN, after they moved in the 70s; and finally finishing her work back here in Evansville in the 80s and 90s.
Election day, 1968, I was excused from school to canvas and “get out the vote” for the Republicans. The committee chairmen would drive us into the neighborhoods where we would walk door to door to see if anyone needed a ride to the polls. They drove dozens of people to vote that day and I remember thinking some of them might be voting democrat, but the adults told me that Voting was our most Essential American Right and that what we did in the polling booth was private. After the polls closed, we all went down to HQ and the party started… Nixon won that year.
I have voted in every election since my first in 1972 and after Mom moved back to Eville, always voted at Her polling place, where she proudly showed me off to her buddies. She roped me (and Casey) into volunteering and we spent several Election Nights celebrating at Republican HQ (they don’t call it the GOP for nothing: open bar).
During Mom’s lifetime I would have Never admitted to her that I had voted any way other than Republican. She always said she wouldn’t vote for Jesus Christ if he was on the Democratic ticket — or as Dad called them, “the damn dims”. We have witnessed what that attitude has done to the Republican Party in the last 5 years… She would have drank the kool-aid and worn the hat, I think, as have most of the rest of my family. Still, I’ve been sad to see how ugly the GOP has gotten and I don’t think it represents what my mom (or I) believed in…
But I still believe in the Power of our Vote. I’ve picked the loser on many an occasion, but never doubted the integrity of our elections or the grassroots volunteers who work their asses off to assure that our Vote counts. Since 2016 I’ve developed a skeptical streak, but I remember my mom, opinionated and biased as hell, but honest, and Thank all of the folks who volunteer for the work they do to keep Democracy going.
2016 also opened my eyes to the people who don’t vote—I really thought Everybody voted, or almost, when in actuality it generally runs between 50 and 60 percent nationally. This year, as we read about the record-setting early voting, it remains to be seen if it is really an increase. Rightfully, there should be At Least 90% of Americans voting. I’d love to see that.
It was 18 years ago yesterday that Mom passed over. We buried her on November 5, 2002, which just happened to be a local/state election day. The church where we held the service was also a polling station. As we rolled her casket out, the poll workers stood quietly and for just a second the bustle stopped… It was so fitting…
“No party holds the privilege of dictating to me how I shall vote. If loyalty to party is a form of patriotism, I am no patriot. If there is any valuable difference between a monarchist and an American, it lies in the theory that the American can decide for himself what is patriotic and what isn’t. I claim that difference. I am the only person in the sixty millions that is privileged to dictate my patriotism.”
– Mark Twain, a Biography
Peace
Breaking News! We have bought a van, a 2012 Ford E150 conversion van. She’s beautiful and I’ve named her Goldie…guess what color she is? She was previously owned by a Farmer out on the Westside who kept careful maintenance and only drove it 39,180 miles!!! We had her here yesterday while the Jr. girls were visiting and Casey did a complete inspection, finding Nothing wrong.
The girls enjoyed a ride in it when we drove them home, then Casey and I proceeded to haggle with the owner’s surrogate, a super guy who wore a mask. We met halfway between his price and our offer, so we are very satisfied. Since banks had closed, we agreed to meet up Monday to exchange the cash for the check we gave him.
I didn’t take any pictures, dang it! I was going to use the ones that were on the FB Marketplace listing, but it’s already been taken down and I could only download this one…
After the experience with the Old Vans in Paducah, I changed my whole perspective and started thinking Newer, less miles; I also got my heart set on a high top. We did an inventory of our needs – comfortable, good stereo, a lay-down bed for overnight stays on longer trips, storage, room for personalization.
I kept looking at craigslist, FB marketplace, and various other online spots, checking about once a week. Looking within a radius of 150 miles of Eville (Indy, Louisville, St. Louise, and Nashville) there were ludicrous listings to make us laugh… Goldie was only on the market for a day when I saw her and the opportunity was a no-brainer…I’m so grateful when I’m able to manifest… We will Definitely do some day-trippin’ this week.
In the meantime, I’m trying to stay calm: deep breaths, mellow music, cooking a nice meal, and writing. Goldie is a nice distraction from the election noise. I’m weary of being told to Vote. We have always voted day-of, though I love the early voting option.
I expect that the Election Drama will be going on for a spell. Is Anybody enjoying this? Good on you, then, but it’s making me bilious. I’ll bravely be soldiering on, though, with some Extra Editions of The News to cover Election Week… Thanks for Reading!
Peace
The rains have loosened the leaves’ grip on the tree branches, forcing their Fall. There’s more precip on the way, too, but when that’s moved out and the sun has moved in, we’re scheduled for our first hard frost.
We have already prepared a cart with plants to over-winter and they’ll be put in the shed soon.
Everything else will be on its own — some will die, others will just hibernate until spring.
Check out how big the banana tree got this year! Sadly, it’s too close to our fence, so we’ll try to move it next year. These trees put out babies constantly and spread like crazy. I’m not sure they will survive the transplant and not sure where to move them, so that will be something to mull this winter.
I brought in the Thyme and Basil the other day. I’ve never been good at growing herbs indoors, but this thyme is too pretty to harvest. The long stalks of the basil are going to be cut and used for pesto, but I’ll try to keep the smaller, younger plant growing.
Since there’s not much to report about gardening these days, I’m going to switch up my Thursday blog post to Rave On, MadWoman. You may have met the MadWoman before and she’s anxious to spout off — I mean, share her perspective. She can get a little annoying sometimes, to say nothing of her short attention span, so occasionally I’ll substitute a little bit I call Photo Synthesis.
It will all be right here at The News from Sonnystone Acres, your one-stop source of drivel…
Keep on Growing…
Just got off the phone with my daughter. They’re doing fine, thanks. I told her I was struggling to write a blog post and that it feels like a deadline, which it is. She commented that she can tell when I’m writing against the deadline; it’s a few words and a picture. Being my daughter, she also let me know that my writing is always good, but sometimes great; not every column can be Pulitzer Prize material.
I’m a little disappointed that I’m so transparent, but she’s right. I try to plan out each week’s report in my head by Saturday night. On Sunday morning I sit down and write it up in a couple of hours. Yeah, if there’s not a topic or idea in my head to start with, as frequently happens, it takes three or four hours of staring and writing and deleting and finally putting up a few words and some pictures.
So here it is…
The Daytrip got rained out, but we spent some time walking in our own woods, the one we call Solla Sollew…on the banks of the River Wahoo…
The Jrs. were here Saturday… I love this picture of Samantha laughing…
Peace
It’s pretty much all over for the Edibles, though there are still a couple of rows of green beans. The butterflies and goldfinches are still hovering around the zinnias, too. Finally the Mums are in Full bloom. Though today it’s supposed to be 85 and sunny, we probably won’t see the 80s again until next year. Gloomy rainy days are on the way, but even then the trees try to shine out with their yellows and reds…
We’ve continued to pull in veggies: the broccoli never recovered from the onslaught of whatever-those-worms-were, though they made a brave stand; The limas, too, just lollygagged along until there’s no more time left. The last two stands of green beans are going okay, so we’re putting off picking the as long as we can.
We usually travel in September and October, so bring it all in right after Labor Day. In this strange year, we’ve stretched the season out and it’s been a Work of Wonder and Joy…
I made a video… With so many pictures of All of the gardens, I had to focus on just the two: The Edible and the Peace/Bird Garden… The music is one of my all-time faves from the Ozark Mt. Daredevils…
Enjoy!
Keep on Growing…
The News from Sonnystone Acres 