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"Sometimes A Shy One"
I laid in bed, nervous and fitful. I gave my thoughts freedom to come randomly, thinking that in such fashion, I might gradually drift off to sleep. But the 'Muse' had a word for me. ''Take this thing off my hands,'' I seemed to hear. I took out pen and paper.
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"Yellow"
While lacking web access for several days due to dead phone lines which still have not been fixed, I passed what would have been the usual time surfing and reading online journals playing with pictures. One in particular, the above crop of a photo of flowers Serena and Richard gave Julia for her birthday, fascinated me. I played with the hue adjustment to create a gradual progression from nearly all gray to exaggerated hues. Liking the way the variations appeared together, I created a page of them.Forward...
With all the fanfare of fancy deco, you might have expected that we've had our share of Halloween parties this year. Not so, for a variety of reasons. Laura's son Anton did host quite a party on the 28th, but with no phone service, he could not remind us of it. And even if he could have, we were in no mood to party. Laura had helped the day before in the moving of two sheds off the old house, and it was entirely too much for her. She had excruciating back pain. The next day, she didn't take it easy, but put together a book case. As part of the deal with Helina, we had to give back the lovely solid wood book case he had given us earlier. Laura was tired of books covering the sofa and piled everywhere, and didn't want to wait. So again, she was hurting, washing down Julia's potent oxycontin pain medicine with vodka laced Clamato. But, as she proudly pointed out, we have a nice looking living room again. The new case holds more books, and we are better organized than before. Today, we are still without phone service, however. We may have to wait until the 6th for a repairman. I don't think much of Qwest, the outfit that took over US West. It seems that at least one phone line is always out, but now it is really intolerable with both out. They can't blame it ALL on the rain. We've had rains before, and never had this sort of problem. I'm not happy at all with the new phone company.
So the three of us stayed in last night. We watched quite a bit of TV. Third Rock From The Sun, followed by an equally funny Simpson's cartoon, then a surprisingly good and spooky Buffy. It has a surprise ending, which I'll not reveal, in case you've not seen the issue with the Halloween frat party. Rather than watch a second and older Buffy Halloween show, in which they turn into the persona of their costumes, and which we've seen at least twice, we switched to Dark Angel. A specially genetically engineered lady named Max takes on baddies in her own unique way. Last night's episode was satisfying in its own quirky way.
We watched all those shows with not much interruption. Only two sets of trick or treaters showed up. No doubt the rain soaked muddy ground discouraged much tromping about. Julia will bring the leftover candy to work and share it with her co-workers.
I managed not to be tempted by the sweets, instead eating tortilla chips and leftover pancakes with lots of cool fresh milk. I enjoyed our quiet celebration. Also, I feel no hangover this morning, as I did after last year's celebration. Quiet is good.
Back in July, when we moved to our new location, we let Max the dog stay with Glen and Mother, as he used to be their dog. Max wasn't very happy about it, as he missed Laura terribly. At first he acted out, chewing pillows and making other signs of protest.
November 4, 2000 - A
"He May Not Rally"
Max, back in happier days, February of 1999
We all thought he'd adjust. After all, he'd been with them for years. But he hasn't. They noticed he wasn't eating right, and mentioned that to us a week or so ago. We didn't quite realize the seriousness of it. Today Glen and Mother stopped by, and she told us Max was lying by the fence, unable to move. He'd only moved his tail a little when she petted him.
They don't have the money to take him to the vet. What little they get has gone into fixing James' tiny old trailer so they can move into it when the house is sold. We don't have the money to do it either, but we took him to the vet anyway. He looks like he's dying. He's been bleeding from his gums, his intestines (his vomit had blood in it), and even his eyes. The vet says it looks bad. He may have tick fever, food poisoning or an immune disorder. We left him over night at the vet's, while they have him on intravenous fluids and antibiotics. As the doctor can not contact us since we STILL do not have a phone, Laura signed a permission form to euthanize Max in case he gets worse. We will see him tomorrow at 9:00am, and see if he's managed to rally.
But it doesn't look like he's going to rally.
Tossing and turning, trying to sleep before the night shift, I sought from the 'space within' what wisdom I might learn about the future. Nearly everyone we know seems to be going through hard times. It looks bleak indeed. It might be too late for our dog Max, but what of the humans? This is what I received:
Trust The Sturdiness Of The Boat Open now the gate of terrors
and you will find it full of red danger.
Stop what you're doing.
Don't you realize
heaven needs no help from you?
You will push through these hard times.
You, and everyone else so afflicted.
Time is a river.
Ride your boat
and do not attempt to steer.
The current will take you where you need to be.
Trust the sturdiness of the boat.
JAL, 10-4-00 This is what I received. Odd, the line 'heaven needs no help from you'. This seems to go against all reason. First of all, it implies there are Forces at work possibly outside of ourselves. I do not know if this is the case. One thing I do know, however, is that worry solves nothing.
That is the main message of the poem. We are, each and every one of us, already doing all we can. We do not need to change our direction. All we need to do is carry on in that direction, and 'trust the sturdiness of the boat'.
I'll work on that.
When Laura returned Sunday to the vet's, sad news awaited us. Max did not have the strength to fight against the tick fever, and at 1:30 in the morning, he passed away. It's possible that he might have gotten ticks from a neighbor dog when Glen and Mother took him to their new place when they were working on it. It doesn't take a lot of ticks to cause the fever. Laura had found only one dead tick between his toes. At least poor Max isn't suffering any more. I used to tell sewing customers that we called him Max because he was the MAXimum Dog. And he was. He was a joy to be around. He never got hyper like some dogs do. And he was intelligent. After Laura and Shayna built the cateau, Laura told Max, ''All these cats are your charges, you watch over them, now.'' He took his duties seriously. When ever a dog from the neighborhood came around to pester them, he'd bark and scare them away. And when Shakti got sick, he'd check in at the bathroom where she was being sequestered and see how she was doing. After she died, he mourned for a few days afterwards. He understood that she had died.
How he enjoyed it when we'd take him on walks at the arboretum. He'd sniff at each bush, in a wonderland of olfactory delights. The fragrances there are a delight to my less sensitive human nose, let alone what a dog can percieve through that sense. But it wasn't just going to the arboretum he loved. He enjoyed any trip in the car. All we had to do was call him, and he'd hop in. He'd look out through the window, and just enjoy the passing sights.
Mostly, he just loved to be with us. He never wanted to be away from us. And, thus it was, when we moved to our new house, he grew sad and depressed. It hurts to think about that. I'd rather think about the happy days he had.
At least he isn't suffering any more.
Today is voting day, and Laura and I did our duty after dropping Julia off at work. Julia had voted earlier by mail. I didn't feel as adequately prepared as I might, since I didn't have time to research matters on the web, owing to being without phone service for so long. But I made the best choices as I could under the circumstances. I voted Democrat whenever possible, and read the various propositions carefully. Having read some interviews of the Casa Grande school board nominees, and seen some ads, I had a idea what they were about. Particularily worrisome was a trio who promised keeping to Casa Grande values. Up until I'd seen that ad, they sounded good. But WHAT Casa Grande values, perhaps a community college choir concert that is extremely Christian evangelical and preachy in nature, to hell with the unbelievers in the region; or a police force making racial jokes? If intolerance for diversity is what they mean by Casa Grande values, we don't need this trio on the school boards.
Max meeting one of Shayna's kitties
One time we dressed him up in one of Laura's dressesClick on small thumbnail to see the larger picture!
This photo of him at the arboretum is one of my favorite photos.
But all of that is boring and not very personal, isn't it? On to matters more uniquely me. Today was also my day off, and despite a terrible sinus headache, I wanted to have some fun. Laura suggested going to a movie, and scoped out the pickings on the web. Billy Elliot, about a young dancer looked to be most interesting. It was very favorably reviewed, having received mostly 'fresh tomatoes' and few 'splats' on the Rotten Tomatoes review site.
We decided on the 1:45pm showing, so we could be home in time to pick up Julia from work. We left in time for a leisurely lunch at Rubio's, a Mexican fast food eatery with very tasty steak quesadillas. With our tummies full, we strolled back to the theater in time to get prime seating.
I recommend this movie heartily. What is most eerie is the similarities between young Billy's (Jamie Bell) life, and Laura's life. First off, the actor chosen looks like Laura did when she was young.
He evinces a mixture of strength and softness similar to that of Laura, as well. Not only that, Laura, though not following her inclinations to the dance, nevertheless felt drawn to it as a young child: 
Billy on the left, Laura, in 1955, with her baby brother
Billy's father at first wasn't happy with his son dancing. He was a tough and manly miner. Laura's father had begun his working career as a miner, as well. But both Billy's father and Laura's father came around to appreciating their child's talents. It did take a little longer with Laura's father, but perhaps it was harder for him. There were transgenderal aspects in the film as well. Billy has a very pretty friend named Micheal (Stuart Wells) who likes to dress in ladies clothing. The boy who played him must possess a truly feminine soul, for it seemed not acting at all. Either that, or he's a VERY good actor. Regrettably, the website doesn't give information on any of the cast members except for those who played the four main roles.''Dance, Ballerina, Dance''
''Eight years old and I whirled to that song. I adored it, was moved by it, and I knew my folks, particularly my father, wouldn't have liked my singing and dancing. I have no recollection of my father ever singing or dancing. The closest he ever came was when he did the calling for the square dances down at the Grange Hall. Dad did like ``a good fiddle.'' That was it. A son dancing and spinning to a song meant for a girl would have been more than a little ``displeasin'.''
Billy Elliot was a thrilling and arousing film. I can't help but wonder if the screen play writer had seen Laura's bio and been inspired by it. After all, Laura's had it on the web nearly five years now. The movie website says ''The inspiration to write the story for Billy Elliot came in a flash to screenwriter Lee Hall while living in America and writing about his own childhood. The story gestated for about a year, mostly because Hall was working on other projects, then in a flurry of inspiration, he completed the first draft in three weeks.''. It IS possible that Lee Hall visited our site.
Well, it IS, you know. Such things are fun to speculate.
The presidential race is so close, we still don't know whether Gore or Bush won. Having enough of such matters, I found it pleasing last night to think about other regions than our own American shores. I enjoyed perusing the photo galleries of a journalist living in Japan. Yen captures the essence of that exotic countries sights. I may never travel to such places, but at least I can armchair travel.
November 8, 2000
"Patterns Of Light"
To be more exact, my chair lacks arms, and is the more serviceable for me for that, as I like to sit crosslegged. Still the perspective from this here chair is not without its own merits. I was impressed with the patterns the light made on Julia's tea cart, as it forced its way through the slats of the window blinds.
Follow the crop below to the larger version.
