December 14, 2003 B

"We Got Him!"
4:32pm

I wondered why our college radio station wasn't featuring its usual programs of music this Sunday morning, but news instead. Normally, I appreciate the NPR broadcasts, but sometimes I am not in a mood for the 'flying body parts' news stories. They seem to have a disproportionately large number of VERY graphic stories concerning the war in Iraq. This morning, I did not want to encounter any grisly tales.

Now, I know they are doing their job. 'War is hell', and any honest depiction of it can't fail to reveal at least SOME of that hell. But this morning, I flicked the radio off and drove to the Unitarian gathering in silence, except for our own chatter.

I discovered there is quite the reason for the extra news. Our friend Nick, who did not spurn the morning news, told us the basics. It is all the repeated words on CNN, ''Ladies and Gentlemen, we GOT HIM!'', along with images of a very scruffy bearded Saddam Hussein. Yes, yesterday at 8:30pm Baghdad time, he was found hiding in an underground crawl space at the walled compound. Around 600 troops and special forces were involved in the raid, though not all were aware beforehand what the objective was.

I have no editorial comment, I merely report this for historical sake.

December 16, 2003

"Powerful Preparations"
6:13am

A peaceful sort of feeling has settled into me. A restless impatience has left me. If things do not work out as I expect, other avenues will open. I can keep a hopeful curiousity while I wait for the outcome.

I welcome this. Of course you may wondering what particular 'expectations' to which I am referring, but it is the way of 'mysterious me' not to reveal Everything. Gee! What fun would THAT be?

I was so tired yesterday, painfully exhausted and I don't know why, other that it was Monday. At 2:00pm, I could not keep my head upright and laid it down on my sewing machine. Out I was for nearly ten minutes. I couldn't wait until the work day ended. Well, of course I DID manage to wait, but as soon as I got home, I headed for bed and slept until 6:40pm. I found Julia almost ready to go out the door for a Unitarian gathering. Still quite groggy, I was not able to accompany her.

When she returned around 9:30pm, I was revived. Julia was hyper-animated. I closed down my studies on the computer and went to the sofa to chat with her. I can't remember all the silly things we spoke of, almost delirious with laughter.

We were in a mood to find anything and everything funny. I jotted down one thing which sent me into titters, and now that I read it in the 'clear wakefulness of morning (Hah!) , I can't remember what made it so hysterical. One of us posed the question, ''What happened to preparations A through G?'' On the way to finalizing the H version sold on the market, did many dire things happen in the process of experimenting alphabetically?

Many years ago, Laura told us of a cowboy cure for hemorrhoids involving tar and something else I can't remember. Was it gun powder? Pity I can't find it on the web. But I did find this: In Rudo Ensayo: A DESCRIPTION OF SONORA AND ARIZONA IN 1764, the author of the chapter called Native Flora mentions, ''The sánari, ssan in Opata, is a plant whose foliage and roots have astringent properties. The green leaves when applied to the anal region after defecation shrink hemorrhoids.''

Well, nowadays, if you can't find a 'sánari', you can always go to a drugstore. Some cure, alphabetical or otherwise, will await you. We even saw a cough syrup of 666 brand. Well, THAT ought to be a powerful preparation, for sure!

Julia coined an advertising phrase:

When you've got a beastly cough,
get the cough syrup of the Beast!

December 17, 2003

"Tedious"
8:55pm

I am grumpy today. I shall not reveal in great detail the nature of my discontent. But if ever you read a warning that alerts of 'overwhelming' effects, it may be wise to heed it. The tiny tiny print bears examining.

But these things are all to be taken as matters to encourage our maturation. Or some such crap. On a good day, when I am not feeling grumpy, I can better accept the wisdom attained through such painful methods.

Yet I take comfort, for I am not the only one who is grumpy. The Cat in the Hat, whom I remember so well as a youngster, is getting old, AULD! An amusing poem found in our email box expresses his discontent:

The Cat In The Hat On Aging I cannot see I cannot pee I cannot chew I cannot screw Oh, my God, what can I do? My memory shrinks My hearing stinks No sense of smell I look like hell My mood is bad -- can you tell? My body's drooping Have trouble pooping The Golden Years have come at last The Golden Years can kiss my ass.

As Laura's father, who I only knew through Laura's memory, used to say, ''Life do get tedious don't it?'' Somedays, SOME days it most certainly does . . .

December 18, 2003

"A Sign"
7:59pm

In the midst of yesterday's tedium, I put out a call to the Mystery, aka Hekate, for a SIGN. I told her I wasn't putting any sort of stipulation on what kind of sign, just that I would know it when She sent it.

She sent it. At first yesterday, it was just a couple of songs on the radio that seemed especially MEANT for me. It's hard to explain. The volume of the radio hasn't actually increased, but the song seems louder, and the singer seems as if he's singing directly to me.

Okay, the lyrics aren't Shakespeare. It's the WAY he sang them:

It's gonna be all right, all right, all right It's gonna be all right

The very next song was Calling All Angels, by Train:

I need a sign to let me know you're here All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere I need to know that things are gonna look up 'Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup

I figured I'd got my sign, and soon forgot about it. Then today, when I got the urge for a tasty drink, I looked inside the bottle's lid and saw these words:

REMAIN CALM, ALL IS WELL

The Mystery isn't letting me forget Her message!

December 20, 2003 A

"Happy Satisfaction"
1:17am

A pleasing glow of satisfaction surrounds me! I have at last readied the last of the mail-out XMAS cards. Oh, I'm sure I've forgotten some people and there's some people for which we do not have addresses, and to them I apologize, but the majority are covered.

(If ya didn't get one and want one, send your address!)

the little peace stamp each envelope gets...

It is Friday, actually it is now Saturday morning, and I am happy the weekend is here. I anticipate a few happy events. Now I'm feeling dreamy and might soon be dreaming. I shall go to bed now.

December 20, 2003 B

"Season's Light"
11:05am

See full size?

This mandala, which I began last Sunday, is now finished. You can see where the candle image came from, if you look at the day divider above!

I am so pleased to have it done. Julia is being the sweetheart and is going to the Post Office for me, and is going to get fruits and veggies at the produce shop. I don't think she wanted to leave without me. She sat drinking tea so slowly. But, alas, I cannot switch gears so easily, and Saturday morning is the only time the Post Office is available to us.

She likes the mandala and thinks we should use it to make our own Christmas cards next year. That's quite a creative possibility which we might consider. For now, you get the digital version.

December 21, 2003 A

"Two Years "
6:49pm

I was feeling weak and fatigued. Weepy-weak. We had discussed the viewing of a film before going to visit with friends and time was so short. It was too short to view the film and have a relaxed dinner, too. After a bit of a tizzy, I decided the best thing was to go have a leisurely dinner and save the movie for the long weekend.

So we did that. I had a craving for oriental food as only Mandarin Palace does it. We got there right at the opening of the door, and found we were their first customer. Everything was so fresh. They have deep fried zucchini sticks that are marvelous, and the potstickers were delicious, and the sweetened cheese wontons and the fluffy sweet rolls and . . .

. . . well, you know I am a chow hound. I forgot about the fortune cookies that arrive at meal's end. The dark haired slender waitress brought two on a small rectangular dish. I was trying to decide which one I should grab when she decided it, placing one before Julia and one before me.

I, knowing the significance of the fortune cookie as device of the Oracle, was especially curious as to its contents, and quickly ripped open the cellophane wrapper and cookie folds to get at the little paper:

You maintain a sense of balance in the midst of great success.

Well, I am certainly encouraged to read that, and I eagerly anticipate that 'great success'. I have been given yet another sign. I must add that while I look forward to future success, I am certainly grateful for all the prior successes I've had.

I may be so much richer than I even suspect, in all the areas in which it counts. It continues to impress me that I don't fully know all the hardships under which many people struggle. So, yes, this moment, this 'now', is a 'success'.

Julia's was also encouraging and inspired some conversation as to its meaning:

Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it.

The absence of Laura has sharpened our love for her in our memories, for we know so well why we miss her so much. It has been nearly a year and a half without Laura, so we've had some time for that love to be sharpened. On the other hand, Julia and I enjoying each other's presence have found our love strengthening through out the years.

I wish to make a side note and announce it has been two years to the date since our arrival in Yuma, exhausted beyond tired, but happy in our new home. We continue to be pleased with the town.

December 21, 2003 B

"Freaky Fortune"
9:58pm

We just finished watching an amusing show called Freaky Friday. In it, a mother and daughter who are at odds receive some enchanted fortune cookies. At midnight, beginning of Friday, they switch bodies and wake up very puzzled. It's an entirely cute story.

It's funny watching the sedate middle aged lady loosening up, and the teenager suddenly getting very conservative. It makes me wonder if I could pull off acting like a younger person. I wondered about this once before when I was writing vampire fiction. I had a dream in which my 234 year old Michael was in a high school, and not doing very well at passing himself off as a 17 year old.

That would be the immortal's worst problem, among, of course, the hunt for food. Would it be as easy as 'The Highlander', who didn't have a problem with food, to make a convincing passing? Duncan McCloud NEVER had any age-related problem, if you don't count those who wanted his severed head. Or would the indelible signs of your age, ingrained in you by the culture in which you grew up, always be telling their secrets?

How easy would it be for me to act 15? I think, first I'd have to not grimace when rising from the seat sucking sofa, for instance, as I force my knees into complaining action. Okay, I can stifle the groan, maybe even the grimace, but could I force the appearance of an easy effortless adjustment from sitting to standing?

Could I force sufficient familiarity with modern music and culture overall? Okay, I listen to Z-93, that rock/pop station that most people under the age of 50 listen to here in Yuma. So maybe I wouldn't be totally clueless. Except my intense aversion to that dang 'all right, all right, all right', NOT all right rap song and that other one nearly like it might give an odd pointer.

I quite often think 'like a middle aged person'. I don't climb hills well. Heck, even 65 year olds pass me up the few times we get out on the walking path. But the famed immortal vampires wouldn't have the problem of physical decrepitude to give them away. Except for that teensy little problem with the sun. But of course, they have the sense to avoid that. In one of the Chronicles, Lestat muses on how he could always tell the age of the vamp by how they dressed. I think that would be very true.

These words I write here could only be written by a middle aged woman in the early 21st century. But I hope there are things which go beyond the limitations of this time. I dream of people centuries from now reading my words. They, inevitably, will carry the time stamp of this time era. But hopefully, there is enough of 'the universal' that my words will still seem fresh and vital.

Today, my own pleasantly NOT 'freaky fortune' foretold 'great success'. This desire for lasting, 'fresh' words is just one of the things for which I wish that 'great success'. You, better than I at this moment, may know how much success I've had with this.

December 22, 2003

"Quite Spotty"
9:49pm

If I knew what I was going to say, why would I say it?

Do I stop here one too many times?

Does the mind, ever seeking, over reach?

Can you know any better than I?

I went to webland, and found much scattered bits of insanity and idle bits of beauty, a grab bag, get what you take.

Take away what you remember.

Will you remember this?

If not, why?

Should I work better to improve my English?

It's my French that needs improving???

Or my Spanish, that's sad, too.

I do not know why I am here.

Why?

Did I have a gut feeling there might be something needing eviction?

Out, damn thought, OUT!

Quite spotty, this!

But I'm having fun. Is that excuse enough?

In this world, there can never be too many 'wheres', 'whys' and wise to know it.

I think I am done now.

December 24, 2003

"Christmas Blues"
7:05pm

I've been having a bit of the Christmas Blues. I got through the work day, but succumbed to tears en route to pick up Julia. There was just something about the way the singer sang ''Merry Christmas, Darling'' that got me to thinking of Laura and missing her terribly.

I took a look at the words, which went into my brain subconsciously, as my active brain was busy with driving the car:

Merry Christmas, darling We're apart, that's true But I can dream And in my dreams I'm Christmasing with you

Yes, there's no doubt why this song wrenched my heart:

I've just one wish On this Christmas Eve I wish I were with you I wish I were with you Merry Christmas, darling

Yes, I ''I wish you could see, I wish it every day.''

I confessed my tears to an understanding Julia, and decided I was not up to going out to eat or seeing a movie tonight. But a walk around the Smucker's Park trail appealed, and so we took to the fresh air. I drank it all in with a sensuous appreciation I've not had before. I enjoyed the sight of each tree profiled dark against the light sky and leaning. In this park, little traversed tonight, there was a pocket of peace in the middle of the Christmas Eve rush.

As we walked, the sun set and when I got home, it was just past the perfection of bloom. The camera could not capture the colors vividly enough, so I had to alter this picture to make it see what my eye saw.

As Christmas blues, pinks and reds go, these are pretty nice . . .