Funny how radar makes rain look like fire-tongues.
I'm hoping that the winds don't get too high here. To be selfish. Mr. Moon has gone to Orlando and so it will be me and the cats. We should be all right. But let me say right here and right now that the thought of dying in my sleep in my own bed and in my own beloved house by way of a water oak falling upon me does not sound like the worst way to die.
It's been a very quiet day here. I've done a few little chores around the house and ironed while watching reality TV (don't you judge me) and taking notes on how a Real Housewife is supposed to act, dress, and live.
I fall short in every category prized on these shows. I do not throw nearly enough parties in mansions and fine restaurants. I do not wear nearly enough evening gowns. I do not have surgically enhanced bosoms, I do not have Botoxed anything. I do not put on make-up as soon as I wake up and brush my teeth. I do not have a kitchen the size of a cathedral where the nanny cuts up organic fruit for the children and where the caterers set up to serve delicious meals and cocktails. The parties I do have never, ever conclude with someone throwing a drink in anyone's face.
Lord! None of my friends would waste good alcohol in such a manner!
I'm doing pretty well in the going-out-to-lunch category although I never get a mojito when we go to Japanica! So...I pretty much fail.
Oh well. I did get a lot of ironing done. Funny how much I've come to enjoy that activity so much. The smell of the heated fabric, the hiss of the steam, the very definable task of simply removing wrinkles from a garment, hanging it up and moving on to the next.
And now, to move on to something more serious- I know that many of us here in this community are worried about Rebecca.
I have been speaking to Beth Coyote about her and this is what she has told me and what she wrote in a comment on the last post Rebecca put up:
"I spoke to Page, Rebecca's son, today. R is in the ICU at Northwest hospital in isolation. She's receiving IV fluids and perhaps something for the pain...The ICU is for very sick people so she's very sick. I offered to come visit but Page discouraged it. I will try to see her when she's better. I don't know what her prognosis is but I fervently hope she's better soon.
She's getting good care and Page is the devoted son.
And so that is what we know. I am very, very concerned as we all are. Beth hasn't heard anything since she posted that but is trying to find out more. Meanwhile, should we all send her cards?
The address of the hospital is
Northwest Hospital and Medical Center
1550 N. 115th St.
Seattle, WA 98133
I do not know what room she's in but I would imagine that if we send things to Rebecca Loudon, c/o that address, they'll find her.
One feels so very helpless but at least we can let her know that we love her and miss her and are thinking of her.
We do touch each other's lives, don't we? We who belong to this strange and comforting, close and yet-distant, loving and supporting community? I have learned so very much from the people whom I've come to know through blogging. I've gotten windows onto worlds I never would have otherwise. I count some of you as my closest heart-friends in this whole world.
When I talked to Beth Coyote on the phone yesterday, I felt as if I'd known her voice forever, and of course, I have known it through her words on this screen of my computer. My magic box, as May and I call our Macs. I was outside and picking beans as we talked and it seemed perfectly natural to me. We may live in different worlds but we also live in the same world and in some magical (yes) way, we have come to realize that. To find and recognize each other in this whole, big world, as sisters, as brothers, as friends, as (dare I say it?) beloveds.
So. Let's send our beloved Rebecca some love and let her know that we are not just words written through space but people who can put pen to paper, stamp to envelope, mail to box with our very own real hands, our very own hearts full of real hope for her recovery, as she would do for us.