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Just a few words…

During this silence here, most days and nights now are spent with my dear friend in hospital with her mum. She (Mums) has now been moved to hospice. Some of the family is still not at peace with that. It is a struggle. Mum is 94 and the thought of an operation is out of the question. It is a cancer that is causing the calcium to leave her bones and cause the other problems. Now the idea is to just make her comfortable.

She said the sweetest thing: “I’m going to go see my mom and dad.” “Mom is building a house for us to live in.” Going Home.

robBlair Munroe falls

Rob Blair Munroe Falls Lake

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Those Days

view2With dreams of seats that swing and rivers that flow. When I was young the family visions of our neighborhood were a cabin in the woods on the river. Two of the neighbors on our block had cabins. One of them, living right next door, had children my age and so I was invited from time to time to join them. How golden it was  there.

During those times it was nothing for children to swim in the river unwatched. Admonishments were few but consistent: watch out for the current! Be careful of undertows! Undertows were the closest we had to river monsters. I don’t know (and didn’t know then) what they were supposed to do but they did strike us as fearsome things meant for our destruction. If you felt one slightly with your body, the challenge was to put a leg or arm into the underwater tornado while keeping the rest of the body safe. It was indeed tempting to throw the whole of self into that fast moving undercurrent, but none of us did. A challenge unmet, we swam unwatched, and unharmed.

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Both photos posted by Room With a View

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Lilith Dreams

I dreamed of Lilith again last night. In the waking times I’m always surprised that this has happened. Why do I think and dream of her so often? It seems there must be a significance to her though I cannot dredge it up. It was such a lovely connection, and maybe that is it—about connecting. And I note that connecting is quite different than being anchored, for I am well anchored here, in this place where I live.

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Lilith the Black Widow Spider with her egg sack

In the dream I was surprised to see her again, walking toward me in firm little steps (not at all the scrambling movements of spiders in the real.) She wanted to know why I was surprised and I couldn’t answer her because in that moment I no longer was. That’s such a fine thing about dreams—wherein you only begin to think a thing and it is. Additionally there is no becoming, only being.

When she came to live with me in Colorado it was such a special time. We waited daily for the birth of her children, waited together. After they were born she moved on. I was so honored to have her in my life, in the sojourn there, in that courtyard, in that place. Maybe her visits only mean to be a reminder, a reminder of the wonderful places we have been.

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Beating Around

sanfranchronical

San Fransisco Chronicle

Some quick notes from the Chronicle and the time of the late 60s. This took place in San Francisco.

During the days of protests over the Vietnam war, the Hippies had a brief infatuation with Bikers. It lasted until the bikers returned to form and began breaking up meetings, music concerts, and generally causing mayhem. People got hurt. (This reminds of the story about the scorpion who got a ride from some other river creature by saying he would not harm him. The river pal let the scorpion ride on his back and took him to the other bank. Once there, the scorpion bit the creature, insuring his death. “Why, why? How could you! You broke your word,” shouted the dying pal. The scorpion replied, “What could I do? That’s how I am.”) Being true to self… So too with the hippies and the Hells Angles. Doomed. And true to self.

So this photo is of the last of days, all winding down and the war retreating. Allan Ginsberg is debating with the bikers. The bikers were and had been attacking protesters as they marched, breaking through police lines. The bikers chanting “America first,” Down with traitors,” and a personal favorite: “America for Americans.” Bedlam.

Another march was being planned and to get ahead of potential danger, Allan and Jerry Rubin invited the Hells Angles, The Avengers, et.al., to a debate. I’m pretty sure that the meeting did not change anyone’s beliefs, but the bikers did not harass the large protest when it took place the following month.

In the end, nothing changed and everything changed. The Vietnam war ended, the bikers continued with their beliefs, and the beats continued beating. And that’s the way things were then, and the way things are.

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Another—So Long

“Everybody else is working to change, persuade, tempt and control them. The best readers come to fiction to be free of all that noise.” Philip Roth, 1933-2018

PBSbooks

PBS Books

Philip Roth, Towering Novelist Who Explored Lust, Jewish Life and America, Dies at 85

Mr. Roth won almost all the major literary awards and published an exceptional sequence of historical novels in his 60s, an age when many writers are…NYTIMES.COM

And I have just included some of his many books to the pile for the Used Book Store. I know that it should not and does not matter, yet a bit of guilt nestles in. It’s a sad thing to bury our towering novelists, the ones in particular whose books we cut our literary eye teeth on.