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| Beautiful leaves found in a parking lot in Concord; I don't know what the tree is. |
Good grief, November is bleak.
Midterms over, and a few things to be grateful for; and yet,
evil races forward, here and abroad, in its disguises as politicians and “concerned
citizens” and their evil-inspiring cant, and in the depressing numbers of
just-folks who support such vileness, apparently bitten by a rabid hate-critter
in their sleep. I say that because I can’t wrap my mind around why
otherwise-normal people – who are usually fairly decent and kind - could be taken in by such obvious and horrible
nonsense. Despite trying to limit how much of that crap I listen to or read
about, my mind and heart mirror our crappy November weather: bleak, mostly cold
and wet and gloomy and heavy, bleak, with a break-through of cold watery sun
from time to time, only often enough to keep the heart from total despair:
bleak. Bleak. Bleak.
Life in our current circumstances kinda sucks.
Voting day in a small town is usually entertaining – at least,
it is in my small town. The Ladies-who-get-things-done always have a bake sale –
don’t dare come to the polls without
some loose change and a few bucks in your pocket! The bake sale is to aid some
town group or another: Historical Society, Friends of the Library, Cemetery
Association, etc. The library also displays its outdated books and CDs and DVDs
for sale so it can buy more.
This year there was also a raffle of a really big basket full
of local stuff that would make great Christmas gifts; and sales that partially
benefitted the library of locally-made, beeswax-soaked bowl covers (to
ecologically replace plastic wrap), as well as DVDs of Don Hall reading his
poetry (Historical Society, I think) and probably other stuff I’ve forgotten.
There was also for sale in the library (which is physically connected to the
town hall via the newly updated kitchen area, which is: 1. Where this year’s
bake/book/bowl-cover/raffle sales were; 2. The only way to the bathrooms; 3. The
only way out of the town hall after voting, or in and out if you’re using the handicapped entrance; 4. Where everyone
gathers after voting to consider the goods and spend some dollars or be the
rightful target of the Ladies’ hairy eyeballs, and gossip and catch up on town
news; and 5. Known to be haunted by townsfolk meeting there in an earlier
century) a selection of quite clever
photos created by a young local photographer, and a new batch of notecards
featuring local scenes, painted by a local artist.
Yup, I did some Christmas shopping. And found a book I’ve
wanted.
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| The garden in late autumn |
I finally got the garden put to bed a little more than a
week ago, and if the chipmunks will stop tossing the bulbs I planted back up
onto the surface so I can have the pleasure of replanting them (and replanting,
and replanting…) I’ll call it done. Unable to stop gardening cold-turkey, I
repotted all my orchids and added a new one – for some reason, orchids like the
dimly-lit west window in our dining room, even when I accidentally overwater
them they usually forgive me; and bought a really pretty black calla lily for
the southern window that overlooks the now nekkid garden. I can see all the
paver-paths I built this summer, which is pretty entertaining, and looking out
past the lily makes it less bleak. I repotted freesia bulbs and other calla
lilies, and several pots of those have sent up shoots already, and are setting
in windows here and there; and the Christmas cactuses are all abloom, or about
to bloom. I’m not sure how I ended up with so many Christmas cactuses, but whenever
I think about paring down, suddenly they all set buds.
In a moment of weakness, I bought four paper-white bulbs
that are sending up healthy shoots in their sand-and-rock forcing vase in a
north window in the dining room. This flower is usually unbearably fragrant,
and I have small rooms and a small house, and we quickly come to hate the smell.
I always swear I’ll never do it again once they’re blooming. And here, I’ve
done it again!
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| This is the path that was blocked by morning glories and bean tower this summer! |
Drove home in 4 inches of snow Friday night, and no, I don’t
have snow tires on yet, that won’t happen for another 2 weeks because everyone needs their snow tires put on.
My usual 45-minute drive turned into a 75-minute drive, mostly at 20 mph
wheel-clutching, don’t touch the brakes, unclench the jaw speed. There were
places of sliding, places of tires spinning almost uselessly, places of hugging
the centerline and hoping no one was traveling north as I traveled south. And
all the time I was listening to a recorded book, which was describing a haunted
house in which several murders had happened, and I – a lover of such things,
usually – found myself totally spooked as I also contemplated whether I was
going to wind up spending the night in a ditch with the local moose, waiting
for morning melt and help to push the car back onto the road. Fortunately, the
car stayed on the road, and when I got home the lights were burning cheerily
and there were no spooks haunting the field. I’ve been lucky, in two things
snow-related this fall, because I was predicting I was going to have to plant
those bulbs the chipmunks keep tossing out in a snowstorm, with a flame thrower
– and I just missed the first storm when planting.
The woodstove is a comfort, the Furry People are spending
more time sleeping and gazing out the windows snarkily. A giant, fat fat fat
grey squirrel with a beer-belly showed up on the kitchen wart railing when I
put seeds out for the chickadees, who were begging for food. Taking a chance
here, the bears aren’t hibernating yet, but I’m only putting out enough that
the birds will clear it all during the day – no problem, with that Fat Grey
Fella helping. He looks like he can barely waddle, but it turns out he’s wicked
fast when chased, in spite of the belly bumping the ground with each leap.
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| Newly-mulched animal's grave bed, with a memorial tile from a friend. |
Speaking of food – celeriac/roasted pumpkin soup turns out
to be incredibly delicious. Treat yourself while there are still pumpkins
available. I’m not certain how using canned pumpkin instead would affect it, a
stronger pumpkin flavor, I expect.
When your house – heart, mind, soul – is resembling Bleak
House, or haunted by impending horrors, and it seems like there’s no way we’ll
ever be able to heal the damage that’s being done to us and by some of us – go
to the internet and listen to Play For Change’s performance of “Stand By Me.”
If you haven’t seen it, it’s musicians from around the world joining in
sequentially to perform this piece together. It’ll make you cry, even if you’ve
seen it before – it’s been around for years. It’ll make you cry, it’ll make
your heart ache, and it’ll give you hope. Then next time you’re out and about,
pick a stranger in the grocery store, or at the gas pumps, or in the department
store, smile at them, and engage in just a few moments of light conversation –
it turns whatever else you’re feeling into joy. Do a silly dance in public.
Break out into song. Bring a smile to people you don’t know. It all helps.
We’re all Witnesses.
For the blog: herondragonwrites.blogspot.com
November 12, 2018
All photos Deb Marshall photos.
Below: close-up of beautiful leaves.
