As you get older, the questions come down to about two or three. How long? And what do I do with the time I’ve got left?
The day after Christmas I was to have met with E, whom I had met for the first time at the ESL registration last Saturday, where we volunteered. She is from Los Angeles and is both elegant and considerate. I was looking forward to our meeting, although it was just to have been for coffee and to exchange some papers. Somehow, I forgot that we were to meet. I felt both embarrassed and ashamed.
So another picture of the table on the patio. A plant (I think the jacaranda) has has begun to shed minute leaves (I can’t attribute them to any other plant) and so sweeping season has begun. It doesn’t rival April-May when the tree will shed its blossoms and bigger leaves, but it’s enough to give me something to do on the days when it isn’t raining.
I sometimes have an idea for a post, and the software lets me create a draft, or schedule a post – which is what I did with this posting. Sometimes things get in the way of my finishing the post before it gets published, and oops there it is somewhat naked, without a photo, or a thought, let alone a completed thought. That happened this weekend when the internet was unavailable for two days. There seems to be a pattern here – towards the end of the month when there are rainy/heavily overcast days the internet disappears. I don’t blame it as I basically do the same, but it causes me to wonder if the local internet provider runs short of cash or credit at the end of the month. It always happens on a weekend.
On my walk back from the bank (rent day) and the bakery (it will be closed tomorrow due to the holiday) I passed a pickup truck that was parked in front of a restaurant. In the bed of the truck there lay a set of horns from some bovine, freshly detached, bright red blood where the rack had been severed. I am not a vegan nor am I involved with animal rights, yet there was something about that set of horns that saddened and sickened me, and that triggered thoughts about our primitive ancestors, about blood lust, and battle and our perceived need for better weaponry until we are able to kill in so many ways. And that is why it’s sometimes difficult to run a simple errand. I totally understand Emily Dickinson and her need to not venture into the world.
The Canadian neighbors have arrived and with them two small dogs that yip and yap and a pounding that begins mid-morning – it might originate from their house, but it did start after their arrival. At first I thought it might have something to do with cooking, but it doesn’t have that rhythm. Perhaps they are cobblers.
Heroes, by a hero to some
David Bowie creates a much more pleasing percussive sound by putting a bottle cap on his shoe.