Another Milestone

Happy Halloween, ya'll. This one has been most interesting, for a lot of reasons, the best of which is Dear Daughter announced that this will be her last year trick or treating. Now this statement brings me joy for about a million reasons, the least of which is I WILL NEVER AGAIN HAVE TO SEW A COSTUME FROM SCRATCH AT THE LAST MINUTE.

Any of you out there who know me at all know two fundamental truths: 1. I am quite possibly the most disorganized human on this planet (this includes every musician, drummer, lawyer and person named Billy I know); and 2. I have never bought into the commercialized version of any holiday, preferring to whip myself and my household into a frenzy by creating holidays out of leftover remnants, hot glue, the occasional sequin and a glass or two of red wine. Past costumes for Dear Daughter have involved feathers, duct tape, florist wire, 36-inch long zippers and the same kind of fleece that usually goes into the creation of fast-food mascots.

This year was no exception. I added to my repertoire slipper satin, which looks great on brides, but is an absolute #@*%(#^% to measure, cut and sew. Throw in a little left-handed dyslexia, a grueling deadline and an already anxious child, and it's just a recipe for disaster. The short version of the story is that her costume (Athena, the goddess of wisdom, in case you couldn't actually TELL what she is supposed to be) turned out okay. I only ruined about a half yard of the $7 material. I didn't break any needles, hearts or federal laws in the creation of this year's costume. After all was said and done, she had a good time, and the costume stayed in place and in one piece until the night was over.

Yay me.

A Long, Long Time Ago...

On this day in 1886, one of the world's best-loved works of public art was dedicated. Standing in the harbor of New York City, Liberty Enlightening the World was intended to commemorate the Franco-American alliance during the American revolution. For millions of immigrants, however, what we now know as the Statue of Liberty became a literal beacon of hope for a new life in a new land. Emma Lazarus wrote The New Colossus. the poem inscribed at the base of the statue, welcoming newcomers to the United States.

It was also on this day in 1995 that my very favorite Emma was born. She shares a birthday with the likes of Bill Gates, Bruce Jenner, Joaquin Phoenix, Edith Head and Dame Joan Plowright. Every day of her life has been an adventure of some sort, and as John Hiatt put it, "there's no telling what she might do/before her doing days are through..." Me, I'm in total awe of the girl. Happy birthday, Miss Baby. I won't load the embarrassing photos of you doing the Chicken Dance to your musical birthday card, but it was a great day anyway.

A Few of my Favorite Things

My good friends over at Fine Old Famly had a new arrival this week. Already a lovely, larger-than-life family, they increased their carbon footprint (totally out of necessity, of course. These are hardly materialistic people, by any stretch of the imagination.) with the addition of Fine Old Famly-sized van, big enough to carry their entire horde, plus any and all of the part-timers and hangers-on (which on any given day, usually includes Dear Daughter) that may be with them at any given moment.

Heck, there's even space in there for a couple dozen flying squirrels, should they be inclined to tag along.

We're very happy for their acquisition, and wish them many happy miles in Lulubelle, and hope that fire hydrants everywhere will stay out of your way.

Dear Daughter and I were fortunate enough to be included in an outing in the new van, and joined FOF for a wonderful evening of ice cream and book-browsing at the used bookstore next door to the ice cream parlor. People, it just doesn't get much better than that.

I don't know what it is about Children of a Certain Age (of whom Helier and Crispina, pictured here, are) that makes bright colors that rarely appear in nature so appealing. Still, it was not so very surprising that the two youngest in our party gravitated immediately to the bluest of all blue ice creams in the freezer case. Now, as George Carlin famously pointed out, there really are no blue foods ("not even blueberries; they're really purple!"), but for Children of a Certain Age, the gaudier the color, the better it is sure to taste. It was a delight watching Helier and Crispina enjoy their treat, which apparently felt as good as it tasted; a multi-sense experience if there ever was one.

And lastly, I should note that today is the 12th birthday of Dear Daughter. Oh very dear daughter...you are and always will be the very best of my favorite things. Oh, happy, happy day that you were born.

This Week's Photo

I snapped this moment yesterday while walking in the rain on the post where I work. It's been raining off and on for the past week, and I've truly enjoyed the final shift between Indian summer and autumn. Cool drizzly days and dark, chilly nights where the rainfall on the roof lulls you to sleep just bring out the nesty/nuture/happy in me.

This photo was made with my phone camera, so it's lacking something...maybe a little more color on the left side. It just seems a bit pale to me there. There is a stand of pine trees at the northeast corner of the building in which I work, and as I passed by them these cones caught my eye. Something about the way the droplets clung to them and the pine needles was so very precious.

For David, in the rain this morning

The man in the rain that walked past the dumpster,
following the two dogs—one leashed and one not,
shuffled his feet as he trudged to the door
of the room that he rents
by the week
near the cloverleaf exit
where I commute every day.

He could have been anyone—
his blonde hair receding,
the height he once knew
is less than it was.
Weighed down by his years;
though not really so many,
each doubles or triples
with each drink he takes.

His shoulders are sodden
with rain and with anger.
His feet don’t remember
the days he would dance
through leaves with the careless
abandon of childhood,
or with a laughing blonde baby
atop of his shoes.

His pockets are empty
except for his fingers;
his dreams have all dried up,
his memories are gone.
Where have you gone to,
my blue-eyed brother?
And do you remember
the days we were young?

Dark Night Alone

We don't talk about tomorrow anymore.
In fact, even when we're face to face, I wonder
what it is you're telling me.
I don't know how to read the lines anymore than the in-betweens
and all I have left these days are the spaces, empty spaces, the long, dark, wondering out-loud spaces.

Bless the Beasts and the Children

I woke up this morning to day six of the Headache That Will Not Die (Although I Might Soon). Hacking and coughing, I hobbled to the bathroom (hobbled, because as usual, I woke up with hamstrings so tight that my feet just won't function) and blew as much multi-coloured crud out of my head as I could. The hot shower beckoned and actually helped both my head and aching joints. I slept well, thanks to NyQuil and a nice long chat with the Loved One, who is currently in Vancouver. Still, it was a rough start.

The start got a little rougher when the phone rang and a tearful voice asked for Dear Daughter. Not sure who it was, I gave her to phone and hovered a little, pretty sure that whatever was going on was bad. Turns out the beloved bunny of Best Friend had passed away sometime this morning while Best Friend was home with one of her young siblings. Her mother was at a book fair with the other two children and their dad was out of town for a conference. Bearing a box and some clean, worn cloth diapers, we ran over to see what could be done.

Now the death of a four-pound bunny isn't exactly the end of the world, unless of course it's YOUR four-pound bunny, or the four-pound bunny of a very dear friend. And this particular four-pound bunny was a very great bunny, in his own bunny way. Charlie the bunny didn't much care for being held, but he loved company and to give bunny kisses. He had an endearing habit of sitting in the window of Best Friend's bedroom, watching the world go by and conversing with the cats and squirrels on the other side of the screen. There's something warm and dear about driving up to a house in the evening and seeing a little dark shape in a window, watching and waiting, and thinking his bunny thoughts.

Humans are so fortunate to have the companionship of pets. They love us like no one else does, and without strings attached. They love us because we are there, and even when we're not there. They are grateful for what we do for them. They bring peace and beauty into our lives. They share their warmth, their space, and sometimes their opinion that 2 a.m. might be a good time for a little walkie and perhaps a nice treat.

When God made the world and all that is in it, it was to humans that He gave dominion. Naturally, we don't always do such a bang-up job of wielding that power. It is in those times we would do well to look to our friends in the animal kingdom, and practice the gentleness, peace and humility that comes so easily to them.

We wrapped Charlie the bunny tenderly and gently laid him to rest in a corner of the yard near where Best Friend and her three siblings often play. It's cool and shady there, and squirrels and birds have been known to visit as well. Brother Bee carefully marked the spot with a piece of wood in his "favorite shape" so we'll always know where to look for the little quiet black bunny, dreaming his bunny dreams forever.