For three days the sun will appear to stand still, each of the days equally long. The word solstice is derived from the Latin sol (“sun”) and sistere (“to stand still”), because at the solstices, the Sun’s declination appears to “stand still”; that is, the seasonal movement of the Sun’s daily path (as seen from Earth) pauses at a northern or southern limit before reversing direction.
Zeus is still with me, never to depart. I cancelled the meeting with his prior mum. I told her that I had searched my heart and did not think we should put him through both of us here and in essence make him choose between us. It felt cruel. I also shared with her all of the expenses we’d been through to deal with his making-crystals issues, operation, etc. She did agree and asked only that I send her gobs of photos of him all of the time. Of course. The other thing which I did not say was that her pain with her current losses would not be eliminated through getting Zeus back. Life is like that, and these days it seems to be handed out in buckets full. Maybe her true pain is related to giving up Baby Z in the first place. I can’t imagine how she did so. Especially since she had him from the time he was 4-weeks old. Yes he was her baby. But she chose to give him up and keep the dog (it was not working out & the dog was new). As for how things are working out here, Lizzy Fig, aka LL Cool Fig is relegated to the back area of the apartment. Baby Z has the front area. They do not get along. Although I do keep trying with controlled visitations. We go on in our fashion.
Last week and weekend were hell with my dearly loved sister-in-law passing away from cancer. She and I were texting and sending notes and photos to the very end. It is a devastating loss. Another part of my past and my life falling away. I don’t understand how everyone else gets to die. I don’t want to be the cheese left standing alone. *sigh*
I have gotten back to the pool and am going three times a week. This is out of desperate need as I’ve gotten exhausted and seem to have no reserves to pull from. Yes, it may all be psychological but nonetheless physical strength is part of the foundation.
VALIS. I’ve gotten back to Philip K Dick and am rereading Valis. After I will read the two others in the trilogy which I just purchased: The Divine Invasion and The Transmigration of Timothy Archer. This is going quite well, something I did need to get back to. (Fortification continues.)
And yes, I still need to get out more agent queries for “Last House.” Happening today. Right after I complete this…right now…now…here we go…
Every year from late May to early June, tens of thousands of synchronous fireflies gather in swarms and put on a breathtaking light show at Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
Synchronous fireflies are one of at least 19 species of fireflies that live in the park but are one of only a couple species in North America whose individuals are known to synchronize their flashing light patterns.
Photo courtesy of Jonathan Hoomes
This must be just incredible! And now I am starting a Bucket List tho I’d never believed in such things. Now must I not only begin one, but this goes to the very top! Imagine the joy to see such a thing.
MYSTICS A man on his deathbed left instructions For dividing up his goods among his three sons. He had devoted his entire spirit to those sons. They stood like cypress trees around him, Quiet and strong. He told the town judge, ‘Whichever of my sons is laziest, Give him all the inheritance.’ Then he died, and the judge turned to the three, ‘Each of you must give some account of your laziness, so I can understand just how you are lazy.’ Mystics are experts in laziness. They rely on it, Because they continuously see God working all around them. The harvest keeps coming in, yet they Never even did the plowing! ‘Come on. Say something about the ways you are lazy.’ Every spoken word is a covering for the inner self. A little curtain-flick no wider than a slice Of roast meat can reveal hundreds of exploding suns. Even if what is being said is trivial and wrong, The listener hears the source. One breeze comes From across a garden. Another from across the ash-heap. Think how different the voices of the fox And the lion, and what they tell you! Hearing someone is lifting the lid off the cooking pot. You learn what’s for supper. Though some people Can know just by the smell, a sweet stew From a sour soup cooked with vinegar. A man taps a clay pot before he buys it To know by the sound if it has a crack. The eldest of the three brothers told the judge, ‘I can know a man by his voice, and if he won’t speak, I wait three days, and then I know him intuitively.’ The second brother, ‘I know him when he speaks, And if he won’t talk, I strike up a conversation.’ ‘But what if he knows that trick?’ asked the judge. Which reminds me of the mother who tells her child ‘When you’re walking through the graveyard at night and you see a boogeyman, run at it, and it will go away.’ ‘But what,’ replies the child, ‘if the boogeyman’s Mother has told it to do the same thing? Boogeymen have mothers too.’ The second brother had no answer. ‘I sit in front of him in silence, And set up a ladder made of patience, And if in his presence a language from beyond joy And beyond grief begins to pour from my chest, I know that his soul is as deep and bright As the star Canopus rising over Yemen. And so when I start speaking a powerful right arm Of words sweeping down, I know him from what I say, And how I say it, because there’s a window open Between us, mixing the night air of our beings.’ The youngest was, obviously, The laziest. He won. RUMI
I have no idea where I’ve been but obviously not here. And the odd thing is my return has not been goaded so much by guilt as by pull. A good thing, I’d say.
Please forgive any repeats on literary or writing updates, not looking back to check. Maybe I’ve been in some monster wave pushed back by the death of Tula. I don’t know. Whatever. So, to date:
I finally finished the rewrite of the rewrite of the cleanup of “Last House.” Actually send off a query to an agent. And yes, “a” is the right word. Only one? Yep, and it exhausted me. Maybe now I can get some more queries out as the time has come to assume that one as a reject. I’ve also sent “Redemption” (short story) off to a couple of places. I’ve reread & tinkered with “Byrne Road” and have come to the conclusion that it likely just belongs in the trash. *sigh* and huh. I don’t know. Maybe another read down the road. We’ll see. I’m not really a short-story writer. Sometimes I’m just moved. I am mentally and in dreams working on a very strangely different follow-up to The Fat Man. That is indeed working bytheway. Not all writing work has to do with the physical act. And I do have a few words on pages.
As for the rest of the world of mine?
My daughter got married. I didn’t know this was going to happen and I wasn’t invited. She told me when she came here to help me get my garage in order (a two person job). After the fact. *Tilt* I’m still numb I believe. I don’t know. To another woman, which is fine—just dropped in here for clarity. I’m glad they are together and that she has someone in her life. I do not know where that leaves me if it does and if anywhere. I feel like a stranger looking in through the window, the window to their house. They are still definitely moving to Portugal and the date keeps getting moved up. I don’t know if I’m going or not.
I told you that I got another cat—Baby Z, or Zeus. But I hadn’t updated with information. That was almost a year ago and now. Yes, now. His prior owner wants him back. He is a purebred Bengal. He is very chatty and knows lots of words. He also got very sick at one point as he was making crystals in his urine and almost died. Surgery was involved. Now he is on a special diet. I don’t know how all of this is going to work out. She (the prior owner) is coming over on Saturday to see him. So much for me depends upon his reaction to her. He called out “MA!” for a long time after she left him here, but then he stopped. I’ve been trying to get him to say “mama” for me. Sometimes he utters a soft “mummm.” I don’t know if that’s it or not. He is very clever and smart, currently learning how to walk with a leash.
I haven’t been swimming much at all. Just now & again with all of the silly medical tests I’ve been going through. (Good excuse.) I have grown extraordinarily annoyed with them as nothing has produced any results. Nothing has been identified as causal to the bouts of pericardial effusion. But they have let up and as I don’t know anything more, I am discontinuing any further testing. And here we go, yep! “It is what it is.” All of this to say that I’ve got my swimming suit on and am going to the pool today. Shortly.
So there you have it. And as the mice say….That’s the wayyyyyyy things are…
Writers Ink—Writing and Stuff 