I have been doing small stints in the yard, hand work, close to the ground. I read a little in my chair. I dozed in my chair. I felt guilty for resting. I reminded myself that resting and being calm are important activities.
In fact I think embracing calm phases, ponds of calm within swirling is never wasting time.
Around here a fat possum has returned. I have not seen it for some time. The raccoons and possums run various routes and schedules, near as I can follow.
I pointed out rocks under a bridge where they used to put up tents to sleep but now they can’t. I said look this is how we handle people without homes. This is the solution. My friend said this is hostile architecture, which I thought she invented as she is clever but she did not, it’s a real thing. Blocks to resting and hanging out comfortably are put in place.
To be hostile to the public is unattractive to me. I’ve seen spikes so pigeons don’t land. This is kind of like that, for people. People who they don’t want to perch. So, it makes public spaces less hospitable to every one of us.
Now I’m living in a house in transition. It is not hostile, and I am grateful. Today there was a jackhammer in the house very close to where I was eating breakfast. That was intense.
I just went to the house part store to pick out fixtures and plumbing things and towel racks and doors, dog doors, and it was all very complicated. I imagined instead living in a bird nest. A tree. Culvert. Hay bale. Mason jar.
The blue tub’s final bath was April 21st, Monday at 9:30 pm. It was 50 degrees with clear skies outside. Inside the walls were bare, not even towel bars remained. One candle burned. I told the tub I appreciated it, and that it had done a good job. It’s probably been here since the 70s.
It’s going to be a bit spotty getting a shower this coming week but I’ve identified two at work and I could also use the Y.
It’s going to be great having a new bathroom.
They found a mummified rat in the wall. It’s hair was perfect.
They also found ants, ants, and more ants.
My dog is deaf and is tolerant of the disruption but gets lost or I lose her and have to search as she can’t hear me calling. She is 112 in dog years.
My persimmon and figs look more promising this spring.
I want to learn to play the cello, but where to rent it and where to keep it? I will figure something out. There is no maintaining control so I work with remembering this and also remembering chaos is the natural state of things.
I’m shopping bath tubs and this is something that I have to do in person. Not online. It’s a personal relationship, me and a bathtub. With a bathtub, like people, I look for depth. Smooth edges. A certain presence. I want to be held in a liquid non-leaky framework. I seek a relaxed trust.
I like to feel anchored yet capable of floating. Sunken and lifted. Secure yet flexible. I want the tub to be a vessel of peace. What are you like full, what are you like empty?
Music: Cucumber butterflies by Disasterpeace.
Share this post