"Days of Innocence", "Magical Times", "Surviving the Test", "At It Again"
"All around the perimeter,And a ballad, the last track, that sticks with me. I think I'll be sending for it from Green Linnet. Sometimes an album is like that. The first play doesn't reveal all its charms. But the more I play it, the more I like it.
He chased me with his scimiter. . ."
We've not had much rain through the winter. Last year, at this time I complained of it. But that rain resulted in abundant flowers which I rejoiced in. We're not likely to have much flowers this year:
``I'm not expecting flowers anywhere in the desert,'' said Mark Dimmitt, director of natural history at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. ``It'll be a stark contrast with last year. Last year was one of the best (displays) in a couple of decades, and this year will be one of the worst.''No flower photo opportunities? Unthinkable. We're taking matters into our own hands. There's a Fiesta de las Flores Flower and Garden Show, featuring orchids, African violets, roses, irises, cacti and other plants today and tomorrow at the Foothills Mall in Tucson. The admission is free, and the batteries are charged.(from a Starnet (Arizona Daily Star) article which appeared last Sunday.)
Farewell, Gene Siskel
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After the flower show, we ate at Thunder Canyon Brewery, which is in the same mall as the flower show was. Julia saw the restaurant's sign and it drew her like a magnet. We have found our new most favorite Tucson restaurant! I had the "GREEK GOD" pizza - feta and mozzarella cheeses with marinara, black olives, sun-dried tomatoes, red onions, and walnuts - a full 9 inch pizza!, two glasses pink lemonade, and many swallows of various freshly brewed beers.
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The flowers were fantastic. Now I have some 85 flower pics to sort through! Oh, I saw some exquisite beauties!
I had over 160 flower photos to pick through. Glen brought over a disc with all of his results as well. So I picked the bestest of them, and put them up for the latest chapter of ATTWT. I've gone light hued for a change. The dark color seemed oppressive, so I gradually lightened it. Part Twenty- Five of Book Two was a lighter shade of purple. I knew I was weary of the dark scheme and gradually eased the readers into it. Possibly six months from now, I'll go dark again. Change is good.
Go see the purty flowers!
I was also looking over our photo album today, and looked in awe at an old picture of my Mom and Dad when she was only twenty-eight and he was twenty-six. They look so young in the picture.
My Parents' Wedding, November 2, 1957
Oh well, he'll probably be greatly reassured when he sees the one pair.
I hope your day is going well.
After a lunch of chocolate pudding ( but no booze, not a drop!), I am still considering the customer's remarks. The more I think about what he said this morning, the more steamed I get. It was tremendously judgemental. The house didn't look like we'd had a huge drunken party, with empty bottles all over the place. He had no idea how many people worked on those bottles, or for what length of time. Also, did he assume that if I did help empty them, that I'd sew while under the influence?
But I understand how fearful people can get. Gramma was, concerning alcohol. But she had reason. She was made an orphan because of it. Her father (or mother's husband) would rather drink than feed and clothe his family. Perhaps this man had had a lot of heartache in his life because some family member abused alcohol. Maybe he wasn't just being a prissy fundamental.
I'm tempted, though, when he returns, to rev up the CD player, and entertain him with all my Irish drinking songs!
But I did at least play celtic drinking songs while I finished the man's one pair of pants and dutifully left a message on his answering machine.
At it Again
Though Geordie's a man I hav'ny seen lately
I asked him, "Is Geordie still makin' good whiskey?"
It did make me feel better.
I met with his brother in Tain
Says I, "Do ye think that he's still off the drink?"
"Oh no, he's at it again!"
He's prone to distill now and then.
"He'd been testin' a sup and near blew he's sel' up
But noo he's at it again!". . .
Today is my twelfth anniversary with Laura! It's hard to believe that much time has gone by. I remember the first February 25th, twelve years ago. I had the week off at work, and had tried to clean up the two room studio apartment. Laura was driving all the way to Joliet, Illinois from Arizona, and I wanted her not to see it in its usual messiness. We had only shared letters and phone calls, but were certain we were in love. I remember I wore a yellow turtleneck and navy pants. About 2:00 o'clock that Wednesday afternoon, I heard a knock on my door. Trembling, I answered it, and hugged Laura, "You're Here!" I exclaimed.
Chapter twelve of Laura's Bio has those early days well recorded. Our beginning had a rough start. Our idyllic first weeks together were tested. But our love survived that test and the years. We're lucky. So many unions fail, with one or both of the partners denying the love that once drew them together had ever existed. That's so sad.
My parents' marriage didn't last more than fifteen years. But even inspite of their 'irreconcilable differences', my Mother still loves my Dad. (I use the present tense, for even though Dad died, her love for him still exists.) I also recognise that Laura still loves Mary. It's not the same kind of love she has for Julia and I. But if Laura were to deny the good that was there in her twenty years with Mary, then she wouldn't be the person of integrity that she is. Maybe love needs this flexibility. Our hearts aren't just capable of only one love for only one person. That's what allowed us to join in triad with Julia. Perhaps when one denies any love, no matter how small, it grows like a cancer, spreading to other loves, until one's whole heart becomes diseased.
(The following is a combination of our cards to each other. I took the flower I'd used in my digital card, along with the poem Laura wrote. )
from the day I became your bride, whirling, spinning like a top, my dearest wish, it never stop!
And as the years have quickly passed,
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What you have become is the price you paid to get
what you used to want.
Mignon McLaughlin
And we know how distracting the web can be! Woo, yes, I'm "At it Again", it seems. No five hours a day, yet though.
11:30am - huge portion dark turkey meat, cranberry sauce, small amount stuffing, taste of corn and aspargus, taste of potatoes, 7-up
4:30pm - more dark turkey, cranberry sauce, 7-up
One happy Max!
Later, Anton and Cynthia came by and the five of us went to see Blast From the Past. I'd not seen any of the ads for it, and had no idea what to expect. It's a really fun movie. In 1962, a slighty wacky genius prepares his family for the bomb. He's thought of everything, building a huge underground fallout shelter. It replicates their above ground home in almost every detail. President John F. Kennedy appears on TV to announce that Soviet missiles in Cuba are aimed at U.S. targets. The man is certain the end is near and goes with his pregnant wife into the shelter. His fears are confirmed when a plane crashes on his house and sends a fireball down the elevator shaft. That's the bomb, for sure. The doors of his shelter lock, sealing for 35 years. What happens when the thirty five years are up? Ebert said of it "It's a sophisticated and observant film that wears its social commentary lightly but never forgets it, as Adam wanders through a strange new world of burgeoning technology and decaying manners. His innocence has an infectious charm . . ."
Indeed the young man reminded me of myself when I left my sheltered family environment to go away to school. There's one scene of Adam's first encounter with the ocean that reminded Laura and me of my initial ocean exuberance. Laura describes it in her book. "Joan loved playing in the ocean surf. Her giggles, her animated gestures, her sparkling eyes, her grin spreading from ear to ear, were more extraordinary to me than the unending expanse of the ocean. Her joy was infectious, a welcome infection that exhilarated me in equal measure." It exhilarated her until it scared her. The locals were all leaving, and still I wanted to go deeper into the waves. I loved the way it felt when the water rushed up against me. I had ventured in up to my neck, when the others were beginning to leave. Perhaps they knew something I didn't? Reluctantly, I left, safe from being swallowed up by high tide.
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At supper I had another bowl of rocky road ice cream today. That's two huge heaping bowls of the decadent stuff. Am I "At it Again" with my bad eating habits?