Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Holding On To Sanity By The Skin Of My Teeth And The Goodness Of Growing Things


 That window in the tiny hall off the kitchen is getting quite jungly. I cut a few fire spike to begin to root in bottles there. They had fallen over with the weight of themselves in the front yard and their blooms were doing no good to either hummingbirds or passersby. So- snip, snip. I have a Swedish Ivy plant that Jessie started for me that has grown leggy and I've trimmed a bit of it to root and add back to the pot to add fullness. And then there's some of that crazy philodendron that I've rooted so much of that it grows in pots everywhere and also, outside in the dirt where pieces of it have been tossed. 

You cannot kill it. 

This is the window in the bathroom off the kitchen. It has rooting and growing things as well. 


There's a polka-dotted begonia, a little succulent which I have not managed to kill yet, the most amazing tiny garden sweet potato which has been leafing in a shot glass for months, a giant begonia leaf, and another sprig of fire spike. 

Growing things soothe my heart, my soul. I need to have them all around me and thank goodness, I am able to do that. I keep wondering how on earth I would manage this time in history if I did not have this tiny piece of ground with trees and plants and a place to make a garden, a place to keep the chickens which do sustain me in ways that go far beyond the protein of their eggs. And let us not forget the sky and the birds who sing and twitter and even the squirrels which run and dart and jump from branch to branch, their toenails skittering on the tree bark. 

A few other growing things visited me today. 



They burst into the kitchen door and although August paused briefly to let me hug him, Levon went right on by, all too eager to find his favorite toys, to explore, to see what was up in Mermer's house. 

"You are five now!" I told August. "You are so big! You are getting so old!" 
He looked at me as he does, as if I am not quite to be believed, and said simply, "Yes. I am."

He showed me his multi-tool which was clipped to his belt and it is a thing of wonder with screwdrivers and pliers and a magnet and I don't even know what all. He told me that when he really learns how to use it all he can help Boppy fix the play set. I told him that there are a lot of things around here that he can help Boppy fix and that is true. 

Boppy was actually at work today. He bought a car for a customer and went into town to detail it and get it all ready for her, to get the paperwork in order, and all those things he does which are far beyond my ken. He's still not home. 
Jessie and I got to visit while we followed the boys around as they played on the tractor and on the mower and August wanted to use his grandfather's jack to jack up the lawn mower but we said no, and then he asked if he could jack up air and his mother and I said he could so he did. 

We watched a little Baby Bheem on the TV, cuddled on the couch together under a blanket because it was chilly in my house. Well, for us it was chilly. In fact, today has been so very, very beautiful. The air so clear and everything so sharply defined, the coolness such a tremendous relief. I was quite happy that the boys let me put my arms around them on the couch, and Levon squeezed my little finger as he watched the TV and we all laughed and laughed and laughed at the mischief Baby Bheem got into with his friend and a calf and the chickens and a scarecrow. It is such sweet silliness. 

We made a lunch and ate it on the back porch and there was more playing outside and then we came in to read books and I read the Lorax to them and then Duck in a Truck because that is Levon's favorite. I am happiest, I think, when I am reading out loud to my grandchildren. I miss acting. Not in a desperate way, but in a gentle way, a sweet nostalgic way, and being able to make funny voices and become the characters in the stories I am reading brings me great pleasure. Such great pleasure. And having them sitting next to me, squished up together on the love couch (as Owen calls it) makes it heaven. 

After they left I tidied up some, folded some laundry, put it away, dragged some branches to the fire pile, cut some pinecone lilies to put in a vase, snipped that fire spike to root. Now I've got a broth simmering that I'm making for a soup with ramen noodles. There are bits of carrot in it, and shallot, dried mushrooms, garlic, ginger root. It is a very, very simple dinner. There will be kale and tofu and an egg in each bowl as well as the ramen. 

And so everything is good in its simple and easy way and yet, because I watched an hour of that debate last night I have been completely un-easy, disturbed and roiled to a point of anxiety which is pervasive, free-floating, as gray and hazy, sticky and thick as generations of spider webs, untouched in years. 

I've never seen such a massive vomiting of lies and anger and petty truculence, belligerent bullying and inhuman cruelty in my life. I kept looking at Trump's face, at how ugly it is because of the way he has set his mouth and narrowed his yes all these years in a sneer of disdain. His mental problems are vast, his ability to empathize or even try pretend to any sort of decency is completely missing. 

We watched an hour of it. I don't know how. I do not know why. And then I got up, put my crocheting down, and said, "I am so tired."
And I finished cleaning up the kitchen and took a shower and went to bed and I did not sleep well. 
I see no reason to watch any more of that poisonous venom and I feel so very sorry for Joe Biden. I feel so very sorry for all of us. 

Here is what the banana bloom looks like today. 


I wish for all of us peace and everything that means. 

Love...Ms. Moon

25 comments:

  1. I didn't feel sorry for Mr Biden. He showed some dignity and also that he was not afraid of The Clown. But why did he call George Floyd by his surname? That did not seem right to me. Trump's ignorant aggression - even shouting down the moderator - was a massive mistake. He was, as Shakespeare might have said, hoisted by his own petard.

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    1. No, he wasn't afraid of Trump but it was impossible for him to actually debate. You can't debate someone screaming at you. He may have gotten flustered when he called George Floyd by his last name. God knows he had reason to be.

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  2. I could not watch the debate, Mary. I had enough of his debating style four years ago, when he loomed large over Hillary, like a dragon just waiting. Then to read the sad, sad coverage today...I just don't know what will happen with all his militia.
    August has the perfect tool! My brother in law has one that he whips out for any occasion. Whips Out! I asked my sister and him to drop by and help me assemble a new cat tree. Mr. All in One fell to, and manually screwed in bolt after bolt. Finally I came back from my tool basket with my little Skil power midget tool. He was too good for it for about one more level of posts, then he thought he'd give it a try. He finished the next several levels with it, then said to my sister, "See. I didn't need to bring the DeWalt."

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    1. Ha! Men and their tools! They are so very proud of them! It starts early.
      The image of Trump looming over Hillary continues to haunt me. It was so predator-like. I shiver when I think about it.

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  3. The little boys are skilled , they will come in handy when MerMer is old and feeble, if that should occur-likely NOT. I need some boys! The kind who like their old woman mother, granny. "Stahs"
    No debate for me- nope.
    I LOVE your nursery of baby plants, I have the same obsession on my kitchen sill, but where to put them when they get great roots going and are looking for more than a drink? Send them to you? Good plan.

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    1. Ha! If you sent them to me, I would give them to my kids. They are still on the collecting end of plants!
      These boys better take good care of me and their Boppy when we get old. I'm counting on that.

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  4. My husband, oddly, decided to watch debate which meant I had to *sort of* listen with one ear while cooking dinner. lordy. I felt I needed a Ritalin or Xanax after that clusterfuck (sorry). I was disappointed that Chris Wallace (whom I love) was just unable to reel it in........but could anyone have? I love that your *stage voice* can be used to read to your grands...and your windowsills with lacy curtains and vases full of growing things just fill my soul. We need those joys in our lives..
    Susan M

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    1. I ended up taking an Ativan last night for the first time in well over a month. I was still shaken. I did calm down.
      Even with all of the joys in my day and in my life, that debate really upset me.

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  5. I made it through an hour, too...then, after yelling to shut his mic off I had to walk away. That shit show made our wonderful country a laughingstock. To have such a juvenile bully leading our great country is one big joke. Chris Wallace didn’t have a chance with that clown, and I think Joe did a helluva job just by not cleaning his clock!!

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    1. I've read that the entire world is horrified by the shit show. It is as unbelievable to everyone else as it is to us that we have come to this.

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  6. I could not watch the debate. It is too much like every conversation i have with my ex.

    I have started rooting things everywhere in the house. And my neighbors have a banana tree and got bananas this year and it felt like a miracle.

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    1. I believe you. Trump triggers me badly.
      And I know what you mean about the bananas. They feel like a miracle to me too.

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  7. What part of the debate I saw was disgusting and shameful. It breaks my heart to know that our country would ever elect that creature in the first place. And when he (hopefully) loses the election I fear what will happen with his extreme, far right, gun carrying followers. It could turn very ugly with him urging them along.

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    1. Yes. Disgusting AND shameful. You are exactly right. And I'm worried too. If he wins it's going to be- well, I don't have words. And if he loses, how in the hell are we going to get rid of him, and how will we begin to cleanse our nation's soul?

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  8. I watched about twenty minutes of that bullshit horrow show, and just about when The Beast said something about insulin being like water, I turned it off. No more need be said. I feel sorry for all of us, too. I watch people rooting things, and I wonder about that. Lord knows, I do NOT need to be gathering any more stuff in my house, so I guess that I'll just observe.

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    1. Yeah. That one got me too. He has no idea what water costs, much less what insulin costs.
      The good thing about rooting things is that you can just do it in bottles and vases you already have and then, if you don't actually want the plant you can give it away. Or, you know- throw it in the back yard. It's just some green in the windows. But I can see your point.

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  9. It's a beautiful contouring post, Mary, apart from the monster in the room at the end.

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    1. I don't know why I talk about him. I guess because he takes up so much bandwidth on my mind.

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  10. Having those two little huggables around was a good antidote for the madness.

    I have enough trouble sleeping without listening to the arrogant #sshole spewing his unhinged vitriol. He invites the rest of the unhinged to "burn Rome," hoping it will keep him out of jail. Only hope his disgusting display poisoned the chances for (re)election of Republican candidates who have given their (cringe-worthy) support of this monster.

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    1. I hope so too, Mary. I hope it's the biggest sweep for Democrats in the history of the country.

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  11. I don't know how you got through an hour of that debate.

    Since you like reading to the kids so much -- is it an option for you to volunteer to read at the library or a local school? Would you be into that? If there are such volunteer opportunities, that is.

    I feel the same way about growing things, as you know. I wish we could exchange cuttings, but I'm pretty sure the customs laws would prohibit it!

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    1. There are usually plenty of volunteers to read to kids at the library and in fact, employees are sometimes given that job- like in Monticello where Terez and Miss Courtney run the kid library hour. Plus, I don't even think our libraries are open now.
      So tired of this.
      It would be so much fun to be able to trade cuttings! But yeah, they'd probably not like it if we tried that.

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  12. I stop here to see the grands and the chicken eggs and your house, replete with growing stuff in Florida. And to commiserate about the tattered and torn thing we call civilization. And to tell you I love you.

    Beth

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  13. I was up and out early today being my volunteer day then Pam and I went to an estate sale run by an outfit in Houston and whoever set the prices did not really want to sell anything I don't think. but yeah, i am so grateful to have this half acre and the acre and a half the shop sits on to keep me busy and sane. I really feel for those people living in high rise apartments or condos with nowhere to go, bouncing off the walls.

    one more month of insanity while he gets really dangerous and then hope to all the powers that be that that is the end of it.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.