Yesterday, I “prepared” my Thanksgiving Dinner.
It’s a far cry from when my sons were little and their Dad was alive.
Then, we all pitched in to prepare a festive meal.
I cooked the turkey, dressing, gravy and vegetables.
My sons and their Dad baked pies. This practice started when they were elementary school age.
Dad also took care of other side dishes.
Zoe, our beautiful standard poodle, took care of anything that hit the floor.
Now I have a precooked turkey dinner and a few sides on order from New Seasons grocery store.
A friend will bring fruit salad, a green salad and wine.
Add an almond cake from Zupan’s and a chocolate ganache cake from La Provence and it’s done!
It’s not a Norman Rockwell painting by any means.
I am forcing myself not to dwell on what is missing but on what will I will have.
A good friend, a warm house, cheerful fire, lovely music and Riley, my mini Aussiedoodle.
I choose happy.
I am at peace.
To see a World in a grain of Sand,
and heaven in a wild Flower,
To hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour
A friend welcomed me home after my long trip with this lovely rose.
Not a wild flower, but I can still see a glimpse of heaven in her lovely gesture.
In my not so crazy but wanting to be sophisticated youth, my friends and I drank Mateus for special occasions,
Now we go to wine tastings and have refined palettes.
Or, so we like to think!
“At no other time does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds.
“Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.”
“For me, it is a foretaste of all of my life of faith. Each year repeats itself, proclaiming more loudly than before,
“It is not over, it is just beginning. Wait ‘til next year and see how much more glorious it will be.”
~Rainer Maria Rilke
As you can see from my previous post “Herbsttag” I am still reading Rilke when I find time. Longing for the wonderful days of my youth when I could read at leisure!
Walking and walking so much in the last few weeks brought to mind Rilke’s poem “Autumn Day”.
I feel almost lightheaded as I read his words, especially the last verse.
It describes my life during the long days and nights of winter.
This is when I miss my Husband. He would understand my feelings.
Fluent in German he could help me with the translation.
Lord: it is time. The summer was great.
Lay your shadows onto the sundials
and let loose the winds upon the fields.
Command the last fruits to be full,
give them yet two more southern days,
urge them to perfection, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Who now has no house, builds no more.
Who is now alone, will long remain so,
will stay awake, read, write long letters
and will wander restlessly here and there
in the avenues, when the leaves drift.
* There are many translations but I like this one by J Mullen.
“People ask me sometimes… ‘When will there be enough women on the court?’ And my answer is, ‘When there are nine.’ People are shocked, but there’d been nine men, and nobody’s ever raised a question about that.”
I was in a large building, mostly empty.
The halls were dimly lit.
The offices on either side were dark.
This was the way to the only bathrooom for customers of the restaurant.
If you have been out and about in our pandemic world, you know that public bathrooms are hard to find.
It was creepy to be there.
I was aware of my vulnerability.
Yet, I felt as though I had no choice.
I was hyperalert.
I ran back to the exit and the safety of my car.
It was beautiful day.
People were out and about.
No one knew my panic from a few minutes earlier.
Blame the victim?
Some would say I put myself in a dangerous situation.
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
A few days later on a trip to Seattle, I saw this sign on the door in my hotel room.
I felt compassion for people who have to enter hotel rooms alone on a daily basis.
My world felt a little darker.
Maybe we all need panic buttons.
*An exclamation from the play Richard the Third, by William Shakespeare; the king cries out, “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!” after his horse is killed in battle, leaving him at the mercy of his enemies. http://www.dictionary.com
I want to share these sweet little eggs.
I took this photo in a garden shop.
The eggs are fake. Still, they evoke a sense of tenderness and yearning in me.
I want to live in a little cottage in a beautiful place where life is peaceful.
With little nests, butterflies and fragrant flowers….
It’s been a hard week.
Actually, a hard year or so.
This pandemic drags on.
I am upset that my friends are losing their jobs, moving away.
And of course, there are the countless deaths.
Oregon hospitals are bringing in temporary morgues (KGW8 9/3/2021)
Idaho morgues are running out of space. (Washington Post 9/25/2021 issue)
I am weary.
“And like one lost in a thorny wood,
That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way and straying from the way;
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out.”
~~Gloucester (Henry VI Part 3, Act III scene ii) Shakespeare
I ventured into the local branch of my bank yesterday.
This has been my bank for over a decade.
All of the tellers were new.
I needed a photo ID to make a deposit and check on my balance.
The branch manager was new.
Gone are the days of walking in and chatting with the tellers and/or the branch manager.
Also gone are the days of running into the bank’s employees at the Farmers’ Market or around town.
They don’t live here.
They are just passing through.
I know that I should be grateful that the bank is still open when so many branch offices are closed.
Also, I should be grateful that I can walk into the branch without an appointment.
Yet, I miss the old days.
The staff knew me and I knew them.