It is HOT! The temperature got to 102 degrees, as measured by our thermometer, which is in the shade of our entrance to the main house area. Part Ten
The Heat of the Moment
Joan Lansberry
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May 16, 1997
I have had a very productive weekend, and it's only Sunday morning! I woke up around two am Saturday morning, and couldn't go back to sleep. I found Laura awake, and on the computer. She showed me a very pretty poetry web site. I've known my poetry site was in need of revamping, and so that spurred my imagination. I had to see my imaginings into reality, and so got busy, as my active mind kept me awake anyway. By seven o'clock, the changes were all made and transferred. I added more poems, and organized it into three sections, for easier reading. I hope to do more to beautify it in keeping with the 'spirit and earth' theme. More people might be enticed into reading the poems then. Which might be useful, if I'm ever to become known as the next "Sappho, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson and Rumi all rolled into one"! (No ego problem, here!) But, seriously, I like dreaming, and it's good if dreams inspire us to become better than we would have otherwise! May 18, 1997
Yesterday Laura and I had a pleasant time in Ahwahtukee. She got a very flattering tan shirtwaist dress, I got some mixed metal teardrop shaped earrings and we got a few books. One of the books Laura selected was A Queer Reader. In it, editor "Patrick Higgins uses novels, biographies, autobiographies, histories, and ephemera to present gay history as never before." as the flyleaf says. One fascinating profile was various snippets by or about W.H. Auden (1907-1973), who has some fame as a renowned poet. One piece was about an important formative time in Auden's youth. He was fifteen, when he first experienced yearnings towards one of his schoolfellows, a Robert Medley who was a year older than him. He kept the feelings to himself in the beginning. But later, in one of the school's clubs, a Sociological Society, he got a chance to know him better. May 19, 1997
He and Auden had plenty to talk about. Medley's attitudes were largely a mixture of William Morris socialism and Blake-Shelley romanticism. It was this last topic that they discussed on the Sunday morning following the charabanc trip, going for a walk across fields near the school. Medley made an attack on the Church; Auden's drift away from religion had scarcely yet begun, and he surprised Medley by declaring himself to be a believer. 'An argument followed,' Medley remembered, 'and to soften what I feared might become a serious breach, after a pause, I asked him if he wrote poetry, confessing by way of exchange that I did. I was a little surprised that he had not tried and suggested he might do so.'Auden's vision of himself and his future was at this time a little muddled. He was still toying with the idea of a career as a mining engineer, but he entertained other fancies - crazes for such things as motor-cycles and photography. Medley's casual question suddenly provided quite a different answer to the puzzle of what he ought to do with his life:
This recount made me think back to when I first began to write poetry. If memory serves me correctly, I was around nine or ten years old, possibly as young as eight. The first poetry I ever saw was on the backs of the church bulletins that were passed out when we entered the church for the morning worship. With relative ease, I produced some poetry in a similar vein. They were of the "Jesus died on the tree, He died for you and me" variety. I showed them to my Gramma, my parents, my Aunt June and my cousins. They were all extremely impressed at the expression of devotion in one so young, and lavished quite a bit of praise upon my efforts. Kicking a little stone, he turned to me
And said, 'Tell me, do you write poetry?'
I never had, and said so, but I knew
That very moment what I wished to do.
from Humphrey Carpenter, Auden (1981)
This encouraged me, and I continued in my poetic attempts. In junior high, I began to explore more secular subjects. I distinctly remember the bright orange notebook paper I used for one poem. A couple of its lines were "My life is a book yet a reading, A tale told with time.." I wish I could find the poem which contained this rather prophetic segment.
While frazzled from lack of sleep and much work to do, the floating ethereal music of Enya is a soothing comfort. One of her dreamiest songs is Caribbean Blue: May 23, 1997
...so the world goes round and round
with all you ever knew --
They say the sky high above
is Caribbean blue....
. . .
...if all you told was turned to gold,
if all you dreamed were new,
imagine sky high above
in Caribbean blue......Eurus...
...After Ventus...
...Boreas...
...Zephryus...
...Africus......When we remember now,
will we remember now?...
...When we remember now,
will we remember now?...
snippet of music by Enya, lyrics by Roma Ryan
May 24, 1997
Familiar buildings and mountains are whizzing by as I look out the car's side window on route to San Diego. We are getting away! A three-day weekend has made this possible. 4:40 am
We passed through a dismal tiny town. Its only restaurant, the Burnt Bun Cafe, doesn't look too promising. Route Eight is getting closer! 5:00 am
A few houses are sparsely scattered about in a setting with attractive mountains. One house has a small ultralight airplane parked outside it. 5:05 am
Route Eight! There is quite a bit of a Arizona to California exodus. Our friends Bill and Chris are in southern California visiting with an old friend. They stopped by Thursday on route to pick up some battery cases I made for Bill. He and his friend fly sizeable model airplanes, so the batteries needed are almost five inches high and very heavy. Anton is in San Diego for a card gaming convention. And our friend Bob almost went to San Diego for a SCA event, but he was short of funds. We could run into people we know there! 5:12 am
We saw our last few stunted scrawny cacti, mile marker eighty-seven. 5:56 am
After a nap, I awake to find we are going through the mountain range seventeen miles before Yuma. 7:13 am
Well fueled from breakfast at Shoney's in Yuma, we are on our way again. I had scrambled eggs topped with cheese and salsa, hash browns, two slices of bacon, some cantaloupe, and a large glass of orange juice. I was not as much of a pig as I could have been. 8:02 am
Well into California, we have passed various farms. Hay and asparagus in their growing state look much different. The very green bunches of stalks could appear to a nearsighted person without glasses as grass. 8:52 am
As we enter the large, no, immense mountain range before San Diego, there is a distinct smell of salt in the air. The ocean is getting closer. These mountains are not like those in Arizona. Only the tiniest of scrubs can push through the piles of boulders that comprise the mountains. The Arizona's Catalinas are covered with green vegetation. Even Phoenix's Superstitions are different, looking rather wind eroded. 9:27 am
Things are looking a lot greener now that we're sixty-five miles from San Diego. A mist is rolling off the top of the hills onto the many big green trees. 10:02 am
The mist has turned into a dense fog. 10:21 am
The fog has lifted in El Cajon. There's so many trees packed into small areas everywhere. There is one tree type with lovely lavender blooms. It and all the greenery definitely beautifies the environment. 10:42 am
We've reached San Diego, population 1,130,000 people! 10:52 am
We had a short visit at the ocean. It was too cold to go swimming, but we did go wading. The lower part of our skirts are soaked. A friendly lady stopped by and we chatted a bit. She had the aura of being "in the know". She had lots of beautiful silver jewelry, in particular a lovely green tourmaline necklace. When I complimented her on the necklace, she was surprised that I knew what stone it was. When I confessed to being a rockhound, she showed me a lovely piece of opal she was polishing. We told her about the gem and mineral shows in Tucson. In return, she took a picture of the three of us. 11:28 am
The three of us on the shores of San Diego
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Wow, are we tired! After our beach visit, we went to Horton's Plaza. This is the most unique and fun mall I've ever seen. It features four levels of stores on seven city blocks. All the stores interlace together in a fascinating way around the inner open air courtyard. I got some books on San Diego (one for my mother), and a CD by Aine Minogue, called The Mysts of Time. I know her Irish voice is luscious, having heard two samples on a couple of compilation discs. Another novelty item I got is a worry stone of Irish Connemara marble. Its packaging came with a humorous message: 6:36 pm
Laura and Julia also struck paydirt. Laura found a book on Uppity Women of Ancient Times and a new version of Magic, The Gathering game cards. Julia found a new tea ball to replace her old 'make-do' one.There are only two things to worry about: either you are well or you are sick. If you are well, then there is nothing to worry about. But if you are sick, there are two things for you to worry about: either you will get well or you will die. If you get well, then there is nothing to worry about. If you die, then there are two things to worry about: either you go up or down. If you go up, then there is nothing to worry about. But if you go down, you will be so busy shaking hand with old friends, you won't have time to worry." Why Worry?
After seeking out a motel room, we were all too tired to go out again, so we took advantage of the advertising of a Broadway Pizza Company, and called out for pizza and spaghetti. The pizza was piled high with mushrooms, olives, tomatos, onions, green peppers and anchovies. We ate until almost painfully stuffed. Now sleep calls us.
Laura woke up about 4:00 am with a wretched backache. She and I got dressed and went out in search of Ben Gay liniment. The 7-11 convenience store didn't have any, so we found a 24-hour supermarket. We also got breakfast makings to eat in. It was a fine feast of tapioca pudding, cantaloupe, cranberry-orange fat free scones and some "Dove" dark chocolate. May 25, 1997
6:15 am
Oh, we have had a most marvelous day, one that will live forever in my memory. We went to Sea World today. It was extraordinary! The first exhibit was called Wild Artic. They designed it to make you feel like you were really taking a helicopter flight to the artic. We could have chosen a version with simulated flight motion, but we chose the static version. Once "arrived" there were bottle nosed dolphins twirling around while being fed, and polar bears there, viewable from above and under water. 9:10 pm
Then we saw trained birds: colorful parrots, cockatiels, owls, hawks and eagles. I never knew birds could be trained, and so this show brought tears to my eyes. Laura got misty-eyed as well. One bullet-fast flying hawk made a descent from a blimp 350 feet above the arena, and stopped just before landing on the trainers outstretched arm. At show's end, three eagles made this breathtaking descent in unison.
Next we saw the loveable sea otters and sea lions do their tricks. A walrus performed tricks at this show's finale!
The dolphins would spin around and around and leaped high into the air. They had them interact with volunteer audience members. A little girl twirled her finger, and the dolphin twirled around. One man was invited to hug a dolphin. He was to make a round circle of his arms, and the dolphin would come up through them. He must have been timid, as he had his arms outstretched at his sides. The dolphin read this gesture differently and took off with the man's hat! Everyone laughed and he was offered a new hat in consolation.
The penguin display was awesome. We were in a special area with one way glass. A conveyor belt moved us silently through, so they would be unstressed and exactly like in their native environment.
But the undeniable star of Sea World is Shamu, the "killer" whale. For Shamu, I wanted to sit close up, as we watched the dolphins from the top row in the stadium. That viewpoint has its advantage for seeing the wide picture. But I wanted the close-up experience. So we got there an half hour early to claim our seats and got a bench in the third row. Already thousands of people were filling the stadium, portent of Shamu's popularity. At all the shows, while you are waiting, there is entertainment to keep you from being bored. An audience quiz featured members of the audience being caught on a vast TV screen monitor. That monitor later proved useful in showing tricks that weren't so visible from your sitting area.
Shamu and the other whale did amazing tricks. In what had to be amazing rapport with the trainers, a man rode him all around the stage lake. Most awesome was when Shamu shot straight up from the water with the man standing on his 'nose'. My camera's battery was low, and so I couldn't capture many pictures, but the mental pictures will never fade.
Our close seat was in the "soak zone". When Shamu did his leaping in front of us, we had the baptism of being totally drenched in salt water. We carried the mark of the blessed when we left. In the restaurant where we ate dinner, we explained to the clerk why we were wet, and he smiled a knowing smile.
We are back home now! Laura awoke very early, so she drove most of the way back while it was still dark. We had breakfast at the same Shoney's we ate in on the way to San Diego. We were glad to get away and now we're just as glad to be home, "Hame, Hame, Hame, Home in my own country..."(from the Scottish traditional song sung by Silly Wizard) The dry air here really suits us best. The sun, though often beastly, is a knowable enemy. In San Diego's cool air, I was completely unaware I was being burned, until later, when in the restaurant, Laura exclaimed "You're as red as those tomatoes pictures on the wall here!" Oh, I got burned bad. Even Julia was a little pink. Only Laura, already enured from her hours out shooting the bow, remained unscathed. May 26, 1997
12:50 pm
But the burns are a small price to pay for the fun we've had! I'm grateful Laura suggested it. It was so refreshing and relaxing to get away.
The three of us are all resting. Julia is in the bedroom, sipping tea and listening to music. Laura and I fell asleep in the living room. As if out of a dream, this beguiling music awakens me and calls. From Welcome to the Dance, (a modern Middle Eastern, New Age blend) by Steven Flynn, Turning Around (after Rumi) calls to me: 3:00 pm
Today we continued the relaxation by watching Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance. Laura rented this video at Blockbuster's, as she knew I'd been wanting to see it. I had already bought the soundtrack, but because of Flatley's picture on its liner notes, I didn't want to risk buying the video. Flatley looks preposterous, egotistical and overdone in the pose with a naked painted chest. I entered into it with a considerably prejudiced attitude, but mid-way through the show, he had won me over. The variety and pacing is excellent. Even Laura, who wasn't much impressed by Riverdance, thought it was good. The title dance is the best one, but the others are at least the equal of Riverdance. I watched it twice!
Each day we wake, empty and frightened,
facing the dark, facing the dark.
Let the music light up the morning,
sing with your heart, sing with your heart.
Turning and turning and turning and turning around.
Turning and turning and turning and turning around.
Hollow reed, wind roaring through you,
be what you love, be what you love. . .
. . .
May 27, 1997
On the penpal section of our website, each of us has a listing. Julia's section lists the "Sonoran Tea Ceremony" as one of her interests. One of our correspondents was mystified by this and asked Julia to elucidate: May 29, 1997
The secret of the sonoran tea ceremony is to:
(1) Make the tea.
(2) Drink it when the surrounding temperature is 100 degrees or above. (For those not enured to desert heat, 85 degrees and above will do.)
(3) Attempt to achieve the satori of perspiration while sitting around and contemplating doing nothing much (because it's too hot, or whatever).
(4) When the perfect equilibrium is achieved, liquid inflow from the teacup equals total outflow through the pores, bringing a sense of inner harmony and oneness with the flow of everything.
(5) At this point the celebrant utters the mantra "Dang... sure is hot outside". The five words of this mantra symbolize the five elements of the oriental cosmology, with earth at the center, water in the teacup, the tea standing for wood, the heat for fire, and metal for the spoon to stir it all up with. What, then, is the nature of the cup? Maybe the cup is the universe. This is deep...
(6) The Sonoran Tea Ceremony has ended.
(7) Begin again at step (1) above.
We had a delightful time last night! We hosted the end-of-month SCA feast. There were perhaps a dozen of us. Some dressed in period costumes, including me. We set up two dining tables covered with passably period tablecloths, so there would be room for us all. What a feast it was! There were all kinds of cheeses, including gourmet brie cheese, and various crackers. There were veggies to nibble and delicious bing cherries. There were donut holes. And that was just the appetizers! The main meal featured corn on the cob, baked potatoes, and Lee's tasty chicken wrapped around a stuffing with crushed pistachios, cranberries and raisins. There was roast beef, too. And for dessert, there was coconut cream pie, banana cream pie and chocolate cream pie. If that weren't enough, there was three kinds of ice cream: black cherry, and rocky road and a flavor I can't even remember. The liquid libations flowed freely, with lots of wine! Julia put renaissance music on the stereo, which added to the ambience. We were all so merry. Gyneth (Lee) and Jeff made such a cute couple in the new blossoming of love. Lee, Mac and Bruce spoke in a Scottish accent as they told hilarious ribald jokes. We laughed and laughed. It was such a merry gathering, the best ever! May 31, 1997
The festivities continued into the night. The three of us went to bed early, telling them that the last one out should lock the door. When we got up this morning, a pleasant sight greeted our eyes. Our friends had put away the food and cleaned up all the mess!
Another torrid hot day! The cooler at work isn't very effective in temps over 100 degrees. And what was worse, the spigot on the water cooler broke! I was fortunate to have brought a can of 7-UP. After that, I was forced to drink tap water, so salty and nasty tasting. June 2, 1997
This setting was all the better to appreciate an interview I heard on the radio today. KEZ radio interviewed the author of Beyond Courage. Robert Arros, his wife and sixteen year old son got stranded at sea for twenty-six days before being rescued! Their ship sank, and all they had was a small boat. Seventeen cans of vegetables were their only provisions; that, and no more than a tablespoon of salt water a day, for any more brine would only cause them worse harm.
Arros told of how they supported each other through this ordeal, carefully sharing the provisions. To pass the time, each would sing all the songs he knew. Robert would sing old Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole songs. His wife, who is younger, sang Beatles songs. And their son sang his favorites. His perseverance inspired his parents as well. In an age when teens often to fail to appreciate the value of life, the young man knew the importance of not giving up. For to say their faith was tested is an understatement.
Arros was surprised at what you're willing to eat, when going through such a trial. They caught a bird, killed it and divided it three ways. The raw, warm flesh tasted usually good!
On the twenty-third day, they reached the shore, (somewhere near Australia??) but it wasn't until three days later that some residents of the land found them. One had felt led to search for native plants, and so came to the sandy shore with some of his companions. When they had found the three, he knew Divine Spirit had led him and his friends to the right spot. They got the family to a hospital immediately. The rescue was in the nick of time, for the doctor said Arros had had only forty-eight more hours to live.
It was a fascinating tale. I would like to read the book. I wonder if I were to find myself in a similar situation, would I have the inner resources to sustain me. I hope I never have to find out!
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