And More

So here we go again…

More wars against humanity as we pull out of Syria. It just doesn’t stop.

This following paragraph has been changed to blue font to indicate that it has been edited for clarity after being published.

And I lose hope in ourselves as the impeachment enquiry continues. That is, I get the politics of it. If we move against for impeachment itself in the congress, we may get it—likely would—but then lose via an impeachment vote in the senate. We need to have an outrageous list of high crimes and misdemeanors for the senate (republican controlled) to contribute to an actual impeachment by their votes and then a vote to find him guilty. move against him. (He of the orange “caused by the new light bulbs.”) This is why, I believe, republicans push with new outrageous comments to drive dems to move too soon.

Meanwhile, I Write

And Read

With this photo and posting I finally figure out why I can’t see certain photos on my iPhoto site and delete at same time from phone. Either for that matter. Just another Duh. Because I’m looking for an action(s) that only takes place when I plug in my camera to the MacBook. I also discover that I’ve got so many irrelevant photos stored and have no idea how that came to be. And the last time I deleted photos from a device I had to go back and restore as they were not just on that device, but also on the computer, and both deleted. Just another price for ignorance, or the lack of attention.

About the photos, though. The On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous book by Ocean Vuong is just incredibly beautiful. It is impossible to read without a notebook nearby and so it is also taking a very long time to read. I believe I began at the beginning of October as it drags me along and into the mind of a culture and change from Vietnam to the U.S. It is a book of poetry written in prose form. The pain of belonging in a body and mind that do not fit into anything but joy and passion. He (the narrator and author?) struggles with emotions and life—from his mother to his lover and their lives in this world. The prose is short, compact, and powerful. A mere 242 pages, I wonder if I’ll ever finish this book, this story, this autobiography, this fiction of a novel.

The Weil Conjectures is much the same in the effects upon reader, though completely different in subject, or maybe not. As with all fine books, it is also a search for Truth. Karen Olsson writes of Simone Weil*—philosopher, social activist, and mystic—and her brother Andre’—mathematician—or mostly about their relationship, the effects upon one another and thusly upon Olsson. Of course as it is in such cases, it is more the effect of Andre’ upon Simone. This is another book of which I have attempted to keep the pages pristine, although I don’t know how long I will last before forgetting—so moved by a passage or the words that describe the coming together of a thought, as in “On Earth,” wherein that resolve was so quickly forgotten. And did I know that it was the Hindus who first used negative numbers? If I did, I had forgotten. (And I should have known because of Ramanujan & infinity.) More about imaginary numbers. Don’t we always think of Math and Science as being long secure and straight paths, moving along uncovering and describing themselves as they go? We hardly think of them as fraught with disbelief and arguments and ridicule as they make their way into our lives battered and worn from the battles.

It helps us to remember as we bemoan the absurdities of flat earthers and anti-climate changers, though they have been at it for way too long.

*Pronunciations: Simone—see-MAHN; Weil—vay

Climate Strike

We went to the climate-change strike on Friday the 20th. The kid and the granddog Sullivan came for the event, and Lizzy Fig went to the health spa for cats while we attended. The strike was just that, as advertised, and not at all a demonstration ala the 60-70s. Which was of course fine, their call, but quite different for me. The last time I was at a demonstration (when I got hit by a rock, but another story) we were marching across the U of Iowa campus shouting: Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today!

But today’s times are quite different, as we well know. There were quite a few speeches and only a very few chants, no marching. I was a wee bit disappointed in the format as it seemed to me that speeches about why something need be done were unnecessary. The crowd there already knew something should and must be done. Perhaps what might have been more powerful. That and more chants. Not only do I love chants, but crowds respond to chants, and a slogan is great for unification. It will come, I’m sure. At least the many gatherings across the world sent a message. Now for continued pressure and forward movements. It was at least inspiring to me with a remembrance that every little bit helps. And I’ve renewed my efforts to eliminate plastic from my life.

Town Square, downtown Cleveland

Angela in front, multi-red shirt and red pants, sunglasses

Meanwhile, at the health spa for cats, it wasn’t exactly a rapturous event.

Lizzy Fig—frozen in a corner, clutching her blanket
A photo of Lizzy Fig having fun. It’s blank because she didn’t have any.

Subsequent photos of Lizzy saying hi to me showed no movement. She was fine once I got her home, even in the car with me. She’s just too shy and timid for life out there.

Babes & Kids

I’m off this weekend to visit the kid. The plan is to go boating on Saturday, tomorrow, and then go target practicing on Sunday. Of course this will include the regulars: Sunday morning papers and coffee while sitting on the front porch, taking the dogs to the park to play and swim, and the regular chatting and meals and films. Ordinary regular stuff. Good stuff.

My only concern is leaving behind the new baby, the long haired lovely gray—possible Norweigen mountain cat. I haven’t chatted about her yet, but soon will. I swore no more cats after Squeek died, and I lasted about 9 months before the search began. A rescue cat of course. And here she is, a wee glimpse of Lizzy Fig to tide over until my return. And then the full story.

The reason for my concern is that she’s not yet been alone and she is a very timid cat. (She has yet to come out when someone else is in the apartment.) She is quite afraid of most everything when first introduced. I don’t want her to become distressed with neither the dog or I home with her. I can’t take her with me as my granddog is a pitbull who is quite adverse to cats.

And that’s the way things are, this lovely sunny day in Ohio.

Flowers & Flashes

Well I did it. I managed to get a few flowers and plants and pots. AND I was able to take photos on my Android—AND Retrieve them on my Flash drive. Holy Cannoli!

Sometimes the wonders of everyday successes strike plain folk and cause amazement into the depths of being. So now I’m worried that the world will be coming to an end anytime soon.  Huh

Patio2019

Patio 2019

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Patio Table 2019

Of course this is not the end of it. I shall be purchasing more and doing further arranging. One trip does not a patio complete.

Spring = Flowers

Flowers and pots and dirt, Oh My! And it’s off to the plant place we go. And about time, I say. So now with the new photo flash drive I’ll be able to easily and quickly move and backup photos on my Android. At least we’ll give it a bloody go, yes?

But of course this brings memories along with it. Memories with flowers and places and people. As indeed the trail of flower roots through out the years.

From Manitou—a touch, just a plant sampling from the upper courtyard:

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Manitou Courtyard

My return should bring a flowering of blooms—which shall be published, assuming the new browser and flash drive and computer all cooperate!

 

Happy Birthday Joel

JsPlaque

I made this for him, or to represent him, or for something, I don’t know. I made it after he died. And there it is. I would give anything to hold him once again, to kiss his fat baby cheeks, to have that time again. Those times, those days, those summers and winters, that boy, my son. Stay with me, comfort me.

Strawberry Fields

KennyS

posted by KennySstrawberryfields on Instagram

 Does everyone remember “Strawberry Fields Forever”?

And so now that it has come to me, there are certain flowers come into bloom, or are planted or picked, I break into song. Daffodils? “When daffodils begin to shine, hey the doxie over the dale…” Petunias? “I’m a lonely little petunia…”

And on I sing and the flowers grow…

Below is the strawberry I planted in my courtyard in Manitou and was so proud of. Many more buds and fruits came to join us. And so we sang.