Ponds, dictatorship, and water lilies

Ponds are very important in the time of dictatorship and Covid-19. It is necessary to find Zen moments wherever one can, given the stress level that can often be overwhelming.

My pond has driven me crazy. Like the national government, it has had years of black, icky muck that has plagued it. I am hoping that like it, our government will soon change and its sludge will dissipate under the influence of good bacteria.

This dictatorship has pretty much decimated the lives, in some way or another, of every American. Some welcome its influence, and others, like me, find it repulsive, backward thinking, racist, and hateful. Let’s face it, that doesn’t even do this problem justice. I have seriously under-reported it.

So when our little pond sprouts lots of lily pads and then shoots out three water lilies within a few weeks time, I view it as an omen of change and its location a haven from the stresses that surround us.

The water lilies sent up the lily pads, the water lettuce and water hyacinth procreated in profusion all over the top of the pond, and the water cleared with their help and the help of the good bacteria. Then the water lilies bloomed with this beautiful coral pink flower that at times looks totally coral, sometimes a bit yellow, and other times a deep pink.

The only thing missing is fragrance. I am willing to overlook that.

When I get depressed, for whatever reason, I can go back to the pond or even look at the photo.

In actuality, I cannot stop taking photos. It is as if there is a new baby and I need to record its every movement.

I am hoping that this WordPress post will allow it to be seen, it is amazing and I hope it continues to bloom. I am hoping that it is a good omen and that people get out to vote and we end this nightmare called number forty-five.

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Are we really this stupid? The answer is yes.

School is about to start and we all anxiously awaited the decisions of different school systems. I am absolutely devastated that the school I retired from, New Trier High School, is currently set to return in a hybrid fashion, with a combo of actual classroom attendance and also e-learning. I cannot believe it.

I cannot believe that what is and should continue to be a lighthouse school, a public high school that wreaks of success at every level, is going down the tubes, ready to sacrifice its staff to Covid-19. Apparently there is a Board Meeting coming shortly, at which time there could be a change of plans, but just the fact that up to now they have been so shortsighted, I just have to say that I am disappointed.

Disappointment is something I have felt on so many levels during the days and weeks following the Pandemic and in major Confinement. I have felt it on a world, national, local, and even on a personal level. Everyone seems to be so shortsighted. People cannot think. Impulse is primo and empathy for others is on a downslide.

The desire to return to school right now is literally like preparing to walk the plank. As of right now, we still do not adequately understand that invisible virus that haunts our every activity to the point that the only safety is in Confinement and behind a mask. Is it truly worth taking a chance with the lives of the students and the staffs of our local schools? Is it okay to jeopardize the lives of college students and the people who staff their schools?

No.

This is truly a no brainer and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this out. We have seen what lack of a national Pandemic plan has done to our country. We have seen what reopening early has done. We have seen, as Confinement goes on, that some people just cannot take it anymore and are not doing what is necessary to stay healthy.

New Trier High School and other schools, colleges and universities, do the right thing. Don’t start school. Yes, it seems that we are taking a big hit, and we are, by not opening up. If we do, however, the price is death and once dead, education is no longer an option.

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Glue Guns, Derechos, and fallen leaves…

No photo today, WordPress or some technical difficulty is not in agreement with me that I show something.

I have done a lot of repairs in my life and glue has been a constant. I remember the days of putting plastic models together. I got quite good at it when I was a kid. I fell down on it all when it came time to painting them, for some reason. I remember that my largest model was an aircraft carrier. I also remember how dusty the models got and how impossible they were to clean. They all ended up in the garbage at some point.

Elmer’s glue and then Elmer’s construction glue came to be a huge part of my gluing accessories. I am able to put pottery together like you wouldn’t believe, just don’t ever try to put water in it. Duco cement was a standard. Then came Super Glue, now a standard in my medical cabinet for cracked fingers.

Where am I going with this? Well, somehow I have avoided a glue gun and I have no idea as to why. That aversion to getting one changed when our roomies moved out and before doing so, my granddaughter bought me a glue gun. I have some wonderful Target, fake rattan chairs that complete our outdoor setting, and well, they have seen better days, although they are still holding up except for a few fraying bits of faux rattan. Well, the glue gun came in handy as I glued them down. Why did I ever wait so long?

Yesterday, I looked at the weather app, Accuweather, and saw a huge system headed our way from the west. It turns out that it was apparently something called a ‘derecho’ from the Spanish.(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derecho) We were promised something like 80 mph winds and hail but it ended up being a fast and slightly furious storm for us. I am not sure how other areas have fared.

This morning was beautiful. In between the construction on our street and the storm, it is a bit of a mess out there. There were a good amount of small branches down.

Time for breakfast and then a Zoom…

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Forgiveness and Paint by Number

Day 149 of Confinement, Week 22

Once again, WordPress is in an ornery mood and will not post my photos.

Forgiveness. To be healthy, it is important to let go of things. It is important to forgive because what other people do are things that we cannot control, something we seem to encounter on a daily basis. Things happen. Surprising things come clearly out of the blue to attack the calm of our lives. Some of them are anticipated, but there are other situations that broadside us completely. Rational people become irrational and terrible things ensue. People like me are public and also private and there are things that happen that I just don’t even talk about.

I find it very hard to forgive. I am guessing that most of us find ourselves in a similar situation; I am not sure, however, how many of us admit this. I just happen to need to sometimes vent when I find myself wronged by another or a situation.

I know that I need to let go, yet it is hard. It is especially difficult when you spend a lifetime trying to build something and a situation occurs and the participants react in uncharacteristic ways. We are wounded.

Life can provide us with sadness when we lose loved ones and we have to learn to live without them, but to keep them close in our hearts. I think of my father that I barely knew and yet I think of him all the time. I relish hearing the stories (although I don’t any longer unless I am telling them) of the kind, generous man, cruelly treated by fate to have to pass up a four year scholarship to a well known college and to continually suffer from diseases (tuberculosis, hepatitis, cancer) and to be cut down at the age of forty. He was a god, he was also human. My mother told me that he would often say, « If there is shit on the sidewalk, I am going to step into it. » I have negativity in my DNA and yet I have fought it tooth and nail. He was generous to a fault, would do everything for everyone, literally give away the shirt off his back. He was a mean drunk, something I don’t remember; I don’t think he drank very often, he couldn’t afford it. He was human.

I try to forgive. Right now, I am having a hard time of that. We go through phases where this happens.

I know I should meditate more, but I have been meditating less, walking more, listening more to music, studying a new language, and doing paint by number. I am a bit disappointed with the paint by number. I received a rolled up canvas, the paints are less than great, sometimes too thick, the brushes are not meeting my needs, the canvas left me with unprinted spots that necessitated my guessing, and yet the final outcome is turning out surprisingly well. It is kind of like life. At least the kind of life I intend to work on.

Despite my rant, I guess I forgive.

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Sun Tea and America

MK is currently parked in the new car in front of the house, having returned home from a quick trip. She is still trying to figure out everything on her new car. It is my car too, but her primary car. I am actually taking it easy in my learning and there is a huge learning curve on a crazy car with Technology enough to make your ‘mind bleed’ as MK’s current lingo goes. I had to practice yesterday for two things: using the button for the back hatch and curbside delivery at Binny’s.

Sun tea is brewing on the patio. America (music from the 70s) is on the Sonos Move. Yesterday, we had a wonderful, socially distanced cocktail hour with good friends. We were blown away with good conversation, camaraderie, and a feeling that we are not alone in this adventure we call life. They made us feel ‘normal,’ something we have not felt all the time as the Pandemic and other issues may have crept into our lives to do what the government and political situation are doing, making everything feel so uncertain. Making us feel that everything is a lie and you just don’t know what to believe anymore.

I have the music on the patio; malbor is ensconced safely away in his house as the weather and temps are not conducive to his safe time outside. That is such a pleasure and it pains me so to be enjoying this at the cost of another, but his intense meanness and hatred somehow cut that pain.

The sun beats down today and although I crazily left the backyard sprinkler on all night, the ground is only wet, not soaked, and not even showing a single puddle. I guess that shows where my mind is. Is it my age? Is it the Pandemic? Is it other pressures and stresses that have come to lodge in my body and mind?

I am going to enjoy the day. Carpe diem!

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