An Observation Not a Poem

This is the kind of morning I’ve waited for my whole life.

Bright. Cool. Quiet.
Nowhere to go. Nothing to do.
No job. No children. No blaring TV.

At the moment
The world is standing still.

I am neither young nor old
Sickly nor healthy
Fat nor skinny

I am not a writer, a data analyst, nor a sales clerk
I am not retired nor working.
I am not a grandmother, wife, nor best friend

I am not worried about Covid nor my car breaking down nor being a cancer survivor.

I am not plagued by memories of bankruptcy, moving, nor losing my parents and in-laws.

Sitting outside on the morning deck
For a few moments
I am here.
Only here.

I am the warm sunshine on my face and the tinkling windchimes in the wind.

I am the bumble bee that stops to feed on my butterfly bush and the frog singing in the damp field and the strange bird that chirps just out of sight.

I am the plastic ornaments that sparkle tirelessly between the railings and the blooming cactus patiently waiting for my turn in the sun.

I am the airplane high above the clouds and the song of flying geese passing by.

At the moment
I am not worried
About life or death.
Breathing or not breathing.
An afterlife or a void.

In this moment
The only thing that matters
Is the beauty of life
The fragility of now

Sixty-eight years have run through this body in the sun
A brief thought of sixty eight more flashes through me

But this morning
This moment
Is enough.

 

 

Faerie Paths — Baking

 

 

The measuring and mixing always smoothed out her thinking processes — nothing was as calming as creaming butter — and when the kitchen was warm from the oven overheating and the smell of baking chocolate, she took final stock of where she’d been and where she was going.  Everything was fine.

― Jennifer Crusie, Maybe This Time

 

Going Up Nort’

Well, the self-imposed lockdown has been lifted here in Wisconsin, giving 5.822 million of us here in the state a chance to run around free.

You will find two camps here — one who has to make money and wants their economic freedom back; the other still wearing masks and fearful of every passing shopping cart pushed by someone without one.

I am not getting into any discussion of either side. Both have valid points; both are sure they’re doing the right thing. After my brother-in-law’s brush with C19, plus knowing that 459 families are missing someone here in the state because of it, I tend to stay on the conservative side.

That doesn’t mean I’m not taking advantage along with precaution these days.

I don’t hang out at bars or restaurants, I still wear a mask when shopping, I take my temperature every day — all those precautions many of the “older generation” tend to take to squeeze every extra day out of life we can.

I also am going away on vacation for a week. Away from TV, most social media, broadcasters and newscasters and boring B movies I’ve been finding on my Internet service.

Is spending a week four hours north from here any different than spending a week here at home base?

I would like to think so.

The cabin we share with my kids was originally my father-in-law’s home. He has gone to the great hunting grounds in the sky, although you can’t tell me he doesn’t stop by the place now and then to check in on us.

Anyway, “the cabin” (as we and our grandkids call it) is a half block from the Chain of Lakes, gateway to boating and fishing wonders still waiting to be explored.

I myself always have a different reason to go up nort’.

It’s easy to avoid TV news and propoganda and politics and gossip when you have no TV. And we intend to keep it that way. We have video games out the gazoo, a radio that picks up a few local stations, and the internet connection is so bad we have to drive to McDonald’s if we want a real signal.

But it’s quiet. It’s cozy. It’s fresh air and a little portable fireplace in the middle of the front yard and swimming for the dogs (and people if it’s warm enough). It’s family sitting around and talking. Sharing tales of the old days. Of new things coming up. It’s catching up with what’s going on in school and at work and, if we’re lucky, someone’s love life.

It’s playing card games on the kitchen table at night or on a rainy day. It’s taking naps any time you want, as long as you wake up in time for dinner (especially if you are cooking).

It’s finally reading the books you never seem to get around to reading at home. It’s coloring mandalas in a coloring book with colored markers or typing a short story or knitting a sweater.

It’s peace and quiet.

No one to tell you what to do; no politicians on Twitter or mass shootings in everyday places or animals being tortured or people dying of the Coronavirus.

Not that it stops reality from continuing. We are all aware of what’s going on outside our sanctuary. But for a few days we can pretend that we’re just outside of heaven and the world and life is all about US.

Not a bad way to spend time, I’d say…..