Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Magpies, Narcissus and Fat Ponies.

This takes a lot of getting used to. It's not the grey weather, which, perversely, I find rather thrilling after incessant blue skies and sunshine (oh, poor me, I know!) but it's the preparation one has to do for the weather. Two pairs of socks and gumboots to go out. Four layers, at least. A hat to keep one's ears warm. Waxed coat for the rain. Extra hand cream. Big knickers not Hanky Pankies, Are two sausages for breakfast too many? I think not.

And then the rampant middle of the night anxiety when America is awake and that madman and his satanic team do their worst. They are absolutely, unequivocally terrorists and their tactics are those of terrorists. And I hate to say it, but it's worked. People are fearful. My friends are resisting. All good people seem to be resisting, but how long can we withstand this attack on our moral core, this demolition of what we consider to be (smugly) our democracy?

It's misty outside and I'm staring out of my office window at two fat and fluffy Shetland ponies, who talk to me when I go to the car. Two crows are examining the field, methodically. I have narcissus on my desk, a gift from a friend. And on my walls, on a board on the picture rail, photographs of my children whom I miss a great deal.

In the kitchen, my darling man is on the phone, getting on with his day. We understand each other's work, which is a miracle in and of itself. Prosaic as it sounds, we wake up at 2am and discuss quotes for press releases. He is good and kind to everyone. And he wants me to be happy, wants to make me happy. Is there anything else to ask for?

-- A magpie flew by. Reflexively, I salute it. One for sorrow unless you salute it. Two for joy. --

Unalloyed joy is what we all strive for. Trust the universe, I tell myself. But that belief has been shaken. Trust the universe, I said to a writer friend while we were breakfasting on Third Street in LA. "It's nice you can feel that way," he said, slowly, "but the holocaust..." There is no answer to that.

Dogs arrive Saturday. Hip hip hooray!

-- We found snowdrops in the garden last night. As I parked the car, the lights caught them on the grass. Glowing white. --


LPC said...

I am so glad you and he found each other before Trump began his slash-and-burn to all our happiness.

Rafe's Hotel said...

Your second paragraph is stunning - and so true. Resist, resist, resist ... and realize new respect for all those generations before us who resisted evil in their era.

Rafe's Hotel said...
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Mistral said...
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