Receiving

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Hawk

We’ve been PBS supporters for a long while, and with our membership comes access to an extensive collection of their programs. The interface is clunky and not terribly intuitive, begging for a Netflix employee to jump ship and make it great, but there is a rhythm to it. Once achieved, I find my way around the areas I like. American Masters, American Experience, and the films of Ken Burns and Lynn Novick my absolute favorites.

My Great Uncle Ed and a friend on V-E Day

Over the past month or so, after a dearth of titles elsewhere, I went on a Ken Burns bender, watching Jazz, The Civil War, The War, and Hemingway. Keith David and Peter Coyote’s voices a near constant in my ears. The perfect pitch and timbre, oh, yes.

My high school history teacher would be proud. Were you watching with me in heaven, Mr. Poisson, black Converse and Cuban cigar? What an education I’ve had! There’s so much I didn’t know, so many details Mr. Poisson couldn’t possibly have time for.

I am infinitely grateful for the dedication and attention to detail in these films, how deeply personal it all becomes. The world gets so messed up and still is in so many ways. It makes my depression spike, but then the reminders, of music and great literature, and movies, and small mercies: flowers and wildlife, the scent of pine, and news from loved ones. I also come to remember the words of Mr. Rogers, about looking for the helpers. Wretched people enter our lives; horrible events happen, but there they are, seen and unseen, and I must always keep them in mind.

And the hawk! Early one morning, Greg and I were walking with my Mom and Juniper, through the park of my childhood, and I spied it atop the tallest evergreen. We stopped to gawk at it, which it didn’t particularly enjoy, so it flew off. A beauty.

For a long time now, the hubster and I haven’t bought each other gifts. We’ve got the love of our dreams and the life we want, so it seemed unnecessary. Until. Until we bought this house and have been working almost every single day for thirteen weeks to fix it up. Knowing that we have about thirteen more. Having that giant dumpster in the back yard for more than two months, big time stinky smelly from a laborer tossing something other than construction waste in it, something oh-so FOUL. Hoping for favorable winds so we could open a window or take a break out back. Yeah, blech.

And then the realization that our birthdays are our FORTY-FIFTH! As a good friend said, halfway to ninety. Holy shit. So we bought a telescope for our mutual delight at star gazing and imagining what if? We looked at Jupiter Wednesday night and three of its moons, Mars, too, from our own, sweet smelling, dumpster-free yard. The wonders of the universe and height of splendor, peeps, the absolute height!

And because I don’t have the attachment for my camera, YET, I snapped photos of my yard gazing while the hubster’s eye was on the sky. Good times, happy nights, and more to come!

Be well…

 

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Happy New Year, gentle readers!  I hope you had marvelous holidays.  Ours were fun, sometimes raucous, and blissfully peaceful – that’s life for you.

One of our ever-so-generous and much appreciated presents was a gift certificate from my parents for Amazon (Thanks again!), and we spent more than half of it buying up songs for the I-Pod: click, click, boom!  In honor of that, here’s a playlist with a wild assortment of the old and new to start the year off with an optimistic shake and shimmy, just the way I like it.

Also, just in case you’re not a local, the bridge is the St. John’s in North Portland.  It is not an overstatement to say that it is my favorite bridge in the world. Sure, there are others that are more marvelous, spanning greater lengths and heights, but none of them give me the sensation of seeing this bridge.  I can remember the first time, sitting so stately and serene to the north on Highway 30.  I gasped at the exquisite color and the fantastically Gothic arches, just wanting to hover, hummingbird-like and admire its beauty.

Back to the music – it might just make you gasp, too.

“Well You Needn’t” –  Chet Baker

“Dog Days Are Over” – Florence + the Machine

“God Only Knows” – The Beach Boys

“Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo” – The Rolling Stones

“London Calling” – The Clash (also one of the greatest album covers ever)

“Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard” – Paul Simon

“Riga Girls” –  The Weepies

“Up on Cripple Creek” – The Band

“Let ‘Em In” – Wings

“Them There Eyes” – Billie Holiday

“Fidelity” – Regina Spektor

“Stay by Me” – Annie Lennox

“(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” – Blue Oyster Cult (Oh yes I did!)

“Star Eyes” – Charlie Parker

“In Between Days” – The Cure

“A Boy Named Sue” – Johnny Cash

“Don’t Stop Believin'” – Journey

“Move” – Bireli Lagrene

“What Is and What Should Be” – Led Zeppelin

“Les Portes du Souvenir” – Les Nubians

“Expectations” – Belle & Sebastian

“L.A.Woman” – The Doors

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To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live gratitude is to touch Heaven.

Johannes A. Gaertner

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Yesterday was a good day.  I had a great work out, a fun Nia class, a leisurely hot bath, and quality writing time.  I also did some web research on the hormones I’m taking and learned that the number one complaint about them was weight gain, especially in the thighs.  I cannot tell you how much better I feel about my tight pants!

The absolute highlight, however, came at just the right moment.  I was watching my usual 4:00 hour of television, waiting for the hubster to get home so we could head to the nursery and buy a plum tree to replace the apple in the front yard.  Suddenly there was a bright spot in my vision, and I knew I was in trouble.  The first trace of impending doom, the awful light show of a migraine.  I turned off the lights, closed the blinds, and put the blanket over my eyes, waiting for the pain that I knew was coming, disappointed that my diamond day was taken down a notch, bummed that the afternoon tree-planting would have to be postponed, and irritated that nothing would make my head feel better.

Well, almost.  When the hubster arrived, he had a box in his hand.  I could not remember ordering anything.  Then he told me where it was from: Arizona.  Kelli! My friend Kelli sent me a care package.  Suddenly my head felt a little better, and I cried at the kindness in the world.  In addition to the sweet card, pickled okra, prickly pear jelly, and the adorable zippered bag (all made by Kelli) was a deliciously creamy bar of hazelnut chocolate, but we gobbled it up pronto.   I don’t think my headache minded a bit!

How nice it is to have friends, near and far.  Thank you for the wonderful treats!  I hope you have a diamond day…

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