Monday, March 2, 2015

Open Doors, Open Heart


That's the new little welcome sign on the door at Papa Jay's Country Store which has not opened yet, but I expect it will, any day now. I am thinking of the shelves of precisely stacked goods, just awaiting purchase. I'm not sure why I'm so excited about this, but I am. Perhaps simply because it will be a good thing for our community if the prices aren't jacked too high. We do have a convenience store up next to the truck stop and then there's the truck stop itself which is an interesting place but they are both owned by one guy whom no one likes around here and the women who seem to be the only cashiers at the stores look as if they are possibly chained to the back of the counters and both stores are dreary and sad and neglected and I, for one, would like a choice when I run out of milk. Papa Jay seems so very happy about the prospect of his store. So proud of it.
Well, time will tell.

It's been a very, very good day for me. I took a walk and if my walks do nothing else, they remind me that I still CAN, and make me feel as if I have accomplished something. I stopped at the Post Office and found two things sent from blog-related people in real, true life and that just always makes my day. When I got home, the phone rang and it was a woman from the dermatologist's office who told me that the biopsy of the places on my shoulder were completely benign. Just old-skin barnacles. No worries. Good-bye.
Hurray!
And I think I know why these places have not really settled into their usual crusty forms and that's because my overall straps AND my purse strap rub right on that area.
Overall-related skin disorder!
Jesus. Who knew?
So that was a sweet relief.

And then there was the fact that the day looked like this.


And this.


And so I did this.


Oh, how I love to hang sheets on the line! How I appreciate a day sunny enough, dry enough to do so. 

I spent the rest of the day mostly outside, just picking up fallen branches and sticks, tidying this and that, cleaning out the hen house and replacing the poopy hay with fresh. I watered plants and did more laundry and used my new broom and all the while I have been listening to Robert Heinlein's "The Door Into Summer," which I have not read in forever. I am enjoying it immensely. Heinlein got so much right about the future and yes, quite a bit wrong. But he was a genius of sorts and he loved cats and I am very glad that I enjoy Science Fiction and was introduced to it at an early age. When I was growing up, it was mostly the boys who read that genre but I fell in love with it and reading "Stranger In A Strange Land" absolutely blew my mind and changed my life. 
Reading his books now, I have to remind myself of how sexist the times were when he wrote and take that into account. I imagine that writing for the Sci Fi audience required a certain amount of titillation (what a wonderful word!) and so I forgive him his cultural sins. 

Mr. Moon has gone to auction and I am tired but feeling better in my soul than I've felt in a very long time. As in...normal. For me, at least. It will feel good to take a shower and better yet to stretch out on the bed with its clean sheets, the window open wide to let in the good, sweet air. I've had the hallway doors open at both ends all day, the kitchen door and the door to the porch outside my bedroom open too and it feels good to walk through the house and feel as if I am both inside and out at the same time, the borders between them merely screens. Sometimes I wonder if I would be able to live in an apartment far above the street in a big city and I truly do not think I could. I have to be able to walk out a door and feel dirt beneath my feet, to sit on a porch and watch birds and chickens, to have a cat who can come and go as she pleases. City life is fine for some and maybe in another lifetime I'll be able to enjoy that but in this lifetime, I'll gladly trade what is sometimes admittedly way too much nature for the joys and majesties and blooming of the trees, and clothes hanging on the line and the sight of the first-blooming purple violets in the yard by the burn pile, by the feel of warm, fresh eggs in my hand, the snap of greens as I employ my thumbnail to pluck just enough to make my supper's salad. 

The voices of the frog chorus are dancing up and down in a very definite rhythm. Du-du-DUHT, du-du-DUHT, du-du-DUHT! And then the soloists weave in and out and then they all pause (to take a breath?) and begin again in a song which is as intricate and interwoven as anything Dave Brubeck ever participated in. 

The rhythms of the universe. I think we all need to be connected to them and not in some new-age way but in the old-age way of blooms and the arrival of birds and the hiss of the tide and the turn and turn again of the planet and the life and the death of it all. If I have no other purpose on earth than to observe and record that, then so be it. 

Love...Ms. Moon





12 comments:

  1. Always having lived in a big city, the little store seems so sweet but so unreal at the same time. Sometimes I yearn for your kind of living but I am scared of bugs and so I don't know if I could do it and street lights... My eyes aren't so great at night. I love your stories because they seem out of a storybook even though I'm well aware they are not. It's hard to explain but I think you might get it.

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  2. Joanne- It is sort of like I live in a third world country. Bugs- well. They come and they go. Street lights- if you don't leave the house at night, you don't need them. And as you know, I can only sleep well if there are no lights at all.
    I do get it. And we all settle where we feel most comfortable. I make no judgements about that- each to her own and may we simply be at peace with that.

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  3. Even though we got another five inches of snow today, I could feel your sun and smell the fresh air in your hallway and hear your frogs. You observe keenly and record beautifully, and although that is not all you do, I'm thankful for that.

    Glad your test results were good.

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  4. Not a third world country, just beautiful country! I went to Bellingham, WA and there were no street lights and there were crickets and though the sound was awesome, when I saw one, I jumped out of my skin. I wish I was different as I always wanted to camp. Alas I never ventured far out if the city and so my experiences are limited. But I do believe where you live is much more beautiful and cleaner than billboard lane here.

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  5. I love reading about your life in the somewhat countryish town of Lloyd, and there are definitely times when I wished for a simpler life, whatever that means as far as rural/urban/suburan, but I do remember my years living in New York City as being some of the happiest of my life. That was because I loved living around so many people, so many lives, so many stories but still feeling the aloneness -- being lost there and just one of millions. I do hate suburbia most of all -- would rather live rural or urban.

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  6. I love the crush of people, the company at all hours, but some days I miss my feet on the earth, instead of concrete, and have to content myself with the sky overhead. Your photos are of a magical kingdom.

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  7. This post was mesmerizing. I feel like I just spent a lovely day with you.

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  8. Aww, I love the sign on Papa Jay's store. I still want to know where they're from. Do some detective work when you get a chance, OK? :)

    I hope they prosper once they do finally open.

    Redbuds always look so amazing against a blue sky!

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  9. There's nothing better than sitting on our deck on a summer evening, watching the Lightning bugs and listening to the bullfrog and cricket symphonies! We're on the downside of our winter in Florida, and though I love the weather, I miss my house...and yard, and pond, and my sweet turtles. Oh, and the smell of honeysuckle (though the sweetness of the Orange blossoms in our Florida yard is just as sweet!).

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  10. Your energy for all that physical work!--well it just impresses the hell out of me.
    But yes, the rythyms of the natural world are something we seek, I believe. But many are so far removed, they don't know that they need it.

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  11. jenny_o- I should probably discuss the mold and mildew and spiders more. Thank you for what you said.

    Joanne- My brother lives in Bellingham! I bet there's more chicken and duck poop in my yard than in your entire city!
    Maybe.

    Elizabeth- I hear you on suburbia. I've always been lucky enough, as an adult, to have enough of a yard to keep me happy. If I can grow a garden, I'll take it. But I completely understand what you said about the city.

    Angella- NYC has so many trees and the sky there IS beautiful and the buildings direct you to look UP! There is nature there, even under the concrete.

    Jill- I'm glad.

    Steve Reed- Will do! I'll try to figure it out! Redbuds are like pink clouds, aren't they?

    Catrina- I just noticed yesterday that my honeysuckle is starting to bloom! No orange trees here. They do smell heavenly, don't they? I make do with the tea olives.

    Denise- I think your last statement is very, very true. People lose touch, don't even know it.
    And I look at you with your yoga and tai chi and beach walks and I am the one who feels astounded!

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  12. My son and DIL love urban life. I have to be able to step outside and see green. We all need what we need and it's good when we get it. Loving your blog.

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