Summer ends . . . transience

Dear You:

Sharing the work of Andrew Ross, something from his portfolio, Transience -


I am/you are the person at mid-crossing.  This literal intersection is the site of movement, beginning here and ending there.  And notice the shadows.  They are fleeting, as the sun moves.  Those images last only in artistic records, like Mr. Ross's.

This summer's story, like a film montage, contained classic transient events/experiences:
1.  Mom died, after a tough winter and spring.  Just like that, she is gone, like Dad. Goodbye.
2.  At the same time, both of the boy cats disappeared. Vanished. Goodbye.
3.  The beach home I live in will no longer be home this time next year.  Goodbye.
4.  My favorite wild pine tree, perhaps tainted by thoughtless neighbor's "weed spray", is turning brown and fading away. Goodbye.
5.  Hurricane Harvey continues to batter residents on the west Gulf Coast and Texas and Louisiana with rain rain rain.  Floods erasing places.  Goodbye.

However, today IS.  I am still alive.  Another mysterious and sweet cat (I named her VEVO, Spanish for "lively") has appeared to keep me company.  I will throw myself into the Gulf and enjoy a dolphin-like swim this afternoon and other afternoons this year.  I cannot save the pine tree now or stop the record-breaking rains.  And those facts would be easy to accept if I could just learn that life is transience.  That is the normal state of things, like "flux" or "flex" or whatever I blogged about months ago.  Apparently, my problem with transience is my only non-transient . . . situation.

So, summer ends again.  Happy voyage to Mom and boy cats and pine tree and all of our temporary homes.  The remedy for now is to simply be.  Get plenty of sleep . . . and don't get too deep.

And, on a lighter note, find a way to get the hell out of my stupid JCPenney retail "job"!! 💃
Oh the places we end up, wondering "how did I get here?"

XO
Joyce

Cart-carnage . . .

Dear you:

The first world tour for POTUS is over.  But not really.  This golf cart incident bothers me only a little bit; however, this bit is part of a continuing BIG LEAGUE state of bafflement.

Sir, can you not walk?  Get on the ground like other leaders.  Try it.  

I don't have an agenda against golf carts.  Why would I?  But this people-mover just keeps popping up in my life.  Right here in Inlet Beach, FL, the cartage carnage was on as every visitor and/or resident seemed unable to use his/her legs to travel the hundred or so feet to the beach.  Everywhere, these little carts enabling the out-of-body viewing experience.  It seems riders want to "see" and not "feel".  Disembodied eyes and mouths.  

Yet another moment of car-culture existence, extended into leisure.  

Dear neighbors and visitors:  Please hit the ground.  Move.  Feel it.  Once you feel it, I think you (we) might be viscerally connected to where you (we) are and why you (we) need to care.

Post-Memorial Day, I memorialize mobility in the flesh.

Move.

Love,

Joyce  

May . . . maybe . . . maybe not . . .

Dear you , . .

May 19, 2017!

Another missing chunk of blog entries, but I return on this notable day.

I was doing my weekly visit to Twitter and saw the hashtag for Endangered Species Day.   This adjusted my head, got me off the latest from Trump and the rapid-fire change of political realities.  (Yes, I said realities.  Those exist.)

Politics/people matter.  Duh.  But what about the gorgeous and even the not so gorgeous critters who live on our planet?  Little spinning blue marble, just keeps going around.  We come; we go.  But I suppose the movement to halt extinctions is more than an act of transference (sad we all die) or sentimentality.  It is a desire to be conscious and get inside those other skins.

Yes, some will say the panda is useless and we tend to fight for the cute species.  But we have to start somewhere, right?  Show me a panda (or a drowning polar bear) and I pull out my checkbook.  (Well, checkbooks are approaching extinction, but its a metaphor, sort of.)  Get inside those other skins.  

I want a world with these creatures, in the flesh.

Are we approaching the days when a giraffe will become a myth?  Imagine a not-so-brave new world, 2070; history and science are revised and the giraffe will be explained away. "No, little Mary, there were no giraffes.  Those creatures only existed in Disney movies and the fantasies of godless environmental liberals."

Are we approaching the days when WE will become myths?  "No, little Android Andy, there were no humans.  Those creatures only existed in the digital dreams of your cyborg ancestors."  

Something flesh and blood and true feels at risk every day . . . 

I perform my little human comedies on the daily  (tutoring, talking, moving merchandise around, working out, dealing with oldie-dental issues 😡, etc.) and feel the transience of that flesh and blood.

So, "happy" endangered species day to them and to us.

Get out your damn checkbooks:

Kisses - 

Joyce

Being the baby . . .

Dear You:

The past few weeks have been all about Mom.  She is 95 and fading.  Luckily, she has the financial resources to reside in a kind, professional assisted living home.  Good women working there, lifting her up as she sails on to wherever.

After visiting Mom a few days ago, it dawned on me I am still the baby.  Granted, I am an OLD baby, but her exit is more troubling than I thought it would.  Steely, realistic me, sad to lose my Mom.

Remembering everything and grateful for so much, hear these classic momisms:

- If you could stay out last night, you can get up this morning.  - When you have your own house then you can make the rules!  - You won't be happy until you break that, will you? - Cupcakes are NOT a breakfast food!  - Go play outside! It's a beautiful day! - Always wear clean underwear in case you get in an accident. - When I was a little girl...

- I'm going to give you until the count of three... - When did your last slave die?  Time for breakfast-cupcakes, time to follow my own rules, time to not wear any underwear at all, time to break something, and definitely time to go outside and play. In my own way, Mom, I've been listening. XO The Baby

A message to the building crew sublime!

Dear you:


Since last November, you have been working so hard.  One more "cottage" (actually a 4 story code-breaking behemoth) is coming together here in Inlet Beach.  This one is right on top of me . . . directly across the street.   Yes, it has been noisy.  Yes, it has freaked out the oldies and the felines.  But no, I am not angry.

Because . . .
1. The crew is Mexican.  Perhaps new citizens, perhaps not.  Their presence is a concrete argument against some policies being debated now.


2. The workers are consistent and thoughtful.  They arrive early at expected hours and wrap it up at dusk.  During work, as vehicles and delivery trucks come and go, they protect my yard and utility nodes/whatever watchfully.

3. The human soundtrack (the lilt of Spanish conversations, the laughter) wraps around the slams and bangs of construction, making the noise . . . interesting . . . and bearable.

And this is all terrific until . . . they start BLASTING music while I am home trying to work online or just think/"be" without feeling like I have PTSD.  When I asked a worker or two to tune it down - a lot - I got no response.  And this made me furious.  So, I had to appeal to the local neighborhood association folks to reach the builder and shut that noise down.

So.  I'm a rat.  Yeesh.  There are limits, my building friends. Music bass beats can rev us up and I don't need that.  Which leads me to my thought for the day:

How can we live with each other freely, happily, and not step on each other?

The Golden Rule.  I need to consider that myself too.  As Trump would say, "Big League".


XO
Joyce

Consider the tiger . . .

Dear you:

It is Dr. Martin Luther King holiday weekend.  Consider his legacy; consider the tiger.

Are both facing extinction?

That will not happen if I (we) use our teeth.  Bad metaphor, but see photo.  Pretty formidable.

Sharpen your wits, darling; this week will require more than formidable fangs:
1.  Get ready for reactionary tweets on Martin Luther King Day.  Use those college-composition skills to respond with verve.
2.  Support Congressman John Lewis.  Enough said.
3.  Observe the inauguration and don't blink.
4.  Be vigilant about your local environment; disrupt destruction.
5.  Save the tiger, literally.  (See World Wildlife Federation.)

And don't forget to floss!
XO

Laughing in the new year . . . 2017!

Dear You . . .


God love Ms. Berry! Laughing off stress in those bell-bottom workout pants.

About stress . . .

2017 came in easy and rather dull.  The cool and foggy weather on 1/31  here in Inlet Beach held back reveling noises, but other noises have surfaced.  Development.  Construction.  Right across the street.  And down the street.  And around the corner.  And on and on and on . . .

This slamming, hammering, machine screaming soundtrack is high decibel.  Since my online tutoring work is slow now and the retail-hell job is down to minimal hours, I am here in the beach house and trying to turn lemons into lemonade (sorry about the cliche).  Like Ms. Berry, I am tragically seeking laugh medicine and a sensible perspective.

Lemons:
1.  The aforementioned noise.
2.  My outdoor-pet-cats are disturbed by aforementioned noise and my favorite (Senor Gato) did not show up this morning.
3.  My cable and wifi were out this morning and required a lengthy phone call.
4.  These outages happen at least once a month and make me edgy since televised politics-sports-etc. and beloved internet actions make me "happy" (or comfortably numb . . . thank you Pink Floyd).
5.  My ancient septic tank is damaged and seeping water (delightful).
6.  The aforementioned underemployment.
7.  Haunted by exile-feeling, so removed from urban life and contact.
8.  I need to find a new dentist.
9.  The weather will be COLD this weekend, as in really cold for Florida.
10. I am all over the place in terms of pursuing that next "fun gig".

Lemonade(thank you Beyonce):
1.   The old house walls are block-thick and when inside, screen out the construction noise a bit. Plus, I CAN WORKOUT ON THE BEACH.
2.   Feline friends Puff Daddy and Dinky did show up this morning and I have confidence in Gato's survival skills.
3.   I reached a human being on the phone this morning who talked me through the outage-thing.
4.   The library has internet!  And books.  And I am currently deep into several of those texts.
5.   My ancient septic tank is working, when babied, and not backing up.
6.   Tutoring income will improve next week when college/university classes resume full force.  And, I can look forward to a "Trump-load" of post-election essays :)
7.    Exile-feeling is sometimes lessened by the fact that I CAN WORKOUT ON THE BEACH.  And those excursions plus zillions of squats have resulted in the return of my BUTT!  I have reversed age-related butt loss!
8.    Whenever I stop procrastinating about dentist-commitment, my cheapo JCPenney dental insurance should cover the cleaning cost.
9.    The cold weather this weekend will be followed by a warming trend early next week.  This does not happen in Chicago in January.
10.   I am thinking about renewing my fitness training certifications . . . hmmmm ..... like Ms. Berry,   it would be fun to get people moving to a joyful zone, literally.

There's my ten for ten!  Functional "ades" for all bitter fruit.

Wishing you laughter/lemonade.

XO

Joyce