and all the plants live together happily ever after.
it’s a beautiful place to just wander. the walkways through bushes you may have to duck under are not edged or over-weeded. it’s not perfect, yet, in its imperfection, it is perfect.
most of all, the natives and the regional perennials co-exist, nurturing each other simply by existing.
i suppose it might be wise for us to take a few cues from these plants. somehow, they are growing and thriving – side by side – without thwarting the growth and thriving of another. somehow, they are weathering the seasons without resistance, falling into fallow and rising out of the dirt. somehow, they are just being, without overly exuberant displays toward each other, without angsty concern, without aggression. somehow, they are blooming and verdant and glorious, trusting – implicitly – that the next plant will understand, that the next plant will also weave its way in the midst, working together to find the light-space they each need. somehow, they are symbiotic, bringing their best, setting aside differences, instinctively empathic. somehow, they are aware of the precious time they have in the sun.
and ever so quietly the cones arrived. and then the “no parking” signs. we didn’t hear the trucks until a couple days later. and, though i’ve lost track of what chapter this is, another chapter begins.
they dug up the street. in front of our house and our neighbors to the east and the west. i instantly started to get nervous. it’s been kind of a long haul, this get-the-lead-out thing. i mean, yes, i want to get the lead out, but seriously, this has been a really long process. our first water pipe lead eradication chapter was in november 2021. we are rapidly approaching two years. i’m frankly not sure if the lead is out – i believe it is – we have shiny new copper pipes and shiny new sidewalks and – at long last – a level front yard with green-green grass – but what about the water utility company being back…again?
whatever the reason, we have determined (read: succumbed to) it is part of the process and are trying to trust that.
for many, many years, we participated in the water utility company’s lead-test. they’d drop off a plastic container which we had to fill first thing in the morning after not using the water lines overnight. each time i’d wait anxiously for the results and any recommendations. with children growing up in the house, i didn’t want either of them to have to seek long-term therapy to deal with their emotional i-drank-leadwater-my-whole-life issues. life is hard enough without leadwater.
i’m guessing we were getting perilously close to the leadwater danger-edge because, when water started leaking into our front yard, we were offered the chance to replace the service line within the guidelines of the new program, assistance with a cap of several thousand dollars that was granted for the work. we were grateful. in our case it was a pretty intense operation – see many blogposts circa late 2021, 2022, likely several in 2023 as well. without exaggeration, our front yard was a disaster area.
in recent whitehouse press release news: “the biden-harris Get the Lead Out Partnership is a coalition of federal government, states, tribes, local communities, water utilities, labor unions, and nongovernmental organizations that has committed to advance a shared set of principles to accelerate lead service line replacement. the inaugural 123 members of the partnership include”…drumroll, please, the city of kenosha, wisconsin!
and so, as we drive around the city, darting inbetween cones and torn-up roads, i am thankful that our city has decided to care about our water. they are taking steps to help people, offer financial assistance, dedicate worker crews to this effort to remove lead water service lines, to have clean water. bravo!
in the meanwhile, we’ll wonder what’s going on in the street and cross our fingers that we don’t wake up one morning to once again see an excavator in our front yard. but we’ll know that – no matter how little we run the water in the morning or how long – we will pass the lead-test with flying colors.
in other undeniably exciting news – a part of this waterstory – we were heartened by a new award certificate we were given by the grassking: most-improved lawn!!
so…no more leadwater for us AND most improved lawn. it’s a win-win!
when i was in sunday school – decades ago – we sang a song with these lyrics: “love, love, love. that’s what it’s all about. cause god loves us, we love each other. mother, father, sister, brother. everybody sing and shout. cause that’s what it’s all about. it’s about love, love, love. it’s about love, love, love.”
and then, somewhere along the way, it seems that the rules changed. and suddenly, it wasn’t all about love. it – on the contrary – became about the parameters put on love. it became about who people identify as and who people love. it became about valuing only male-female love. it became about quashing people’s gender identification. it became about ancient, close-minded, patriarchal interpretations. it became about bigotry. and the sunday school song takes on a different meaning.
but we know that nothing immensely beautiful, nothing meaningful or of import has come from limitations. it is not the ostrich with its head in the sand who can feel the dawn of a new day on its face. it is not the people who do no true research, who do not ask questions, who do not ponder the possible; these same folks who, if they instead would have respectful consideration of others, could find that we all can be spokes-living-better-together.
one of the things i really loved about my sweet momma was her willingness – her desire – to learn new things. even in her nineties, she tried to stay current, to stay informed. if she didn’t understand something, she’d ask questions or she’d look it up. she stayed open, non-judgemental. she hoped for happiness, love, freedom, peace for everyone – despite their race, ethnicity, gender identity, religion, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status. she did not make broad sweeping statements dissing any group of people. she held onto her belief that everyone deserves “to thine own self be true”. i’m guessing she would agree with ruth bader ginsburg, “we will all profit from a more diverse, inclusive society, understanding, accommodating, even celebrating our differences, while pulling together for the common good.”
the day my beloved son came out to me, i rejoiced in his freedom. all i really wanted for him – that day and every day since – was to love and be loved by his partner, working together with mutual respect, loyalty, understanding, generosity, admiration, affection, support. it is the same for my beloved daughter in her love relationships. i merely birthed them and then, in the briefest time that flew by, they became adults, out in the world. and with them, they took the knowledge that they had freedom to be who they are, knowing – without a doubt – i love them.
i can’t imagine poking at a group of people – including, and particularly, an all-embracing LGBTQIA+ community of beautiful people. lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual: their individual and precious lives are not mine to live, nor mine to decide, nor mine to undermine.
we are the same. remember the sunday school song? or are there limitations to these lyrics? in what faith is love not love?
we purchased a new yard sign. half of the proceeds go to PRIDE.
mount everest wisdom. mark whetu, professional guide – passionately speaking about the mountain – maintaining, “one more step. you can always make one more step.”
it is without any doubt that i can say i will not be climbing everest (or, for that matter, k2 or annapurna et al). i have watched enough video footage to know that it would not be possible for me to summit. i don’t feel badly about that. i know that there are other challenges i will take on, other summits to step to. and those will take remembering the same mantra “one more step” with the same bravery.
we each have our everests, himalayan mountain peaks up close and personal. some of them are indeed adventures – the stuff we try during time away from work, on vacations near and far. some of them are health issues – and we work toward healthy. some of them are traumas we have lived through – and we, as survivors, work on healing, a little bit at a time. some of them are learning challenges we place before ourselves – to learn a language, to learn to dance, to learn to build, to learn the piano. some of them are more philosophical – a chance to explore and try to understand social and political issues, to dissect and parse out and ask questions, have discourse and form opinions based on true information. some of them are more existential – to sort out how we belong in the world, no small feat.
regardless, there is no way ‘there’ from ‘here’ without taking steps.
“on the road of experience i’m trying to find my own way sometimes i wish that i could fly away when i think that i’m moving suddenly things stand still i’m afraid ’cause i think they always will“
(john denver – looking for space)
mark was on everest. in an excruciatingly difficult situation, he speaks to the standing-stillness of choice. he knows that after the way up, the way down is an imperative for survival. he knows the only way there – either way – is one step at a time.
it’s the only way no matter what. no matter the challenge, no matter the summit. one baby step at a time.
of course i loved them right away. they are from long island. i’m from long island. it’s simple. my people!
we have watched – many – sipandfeast youtube videos. jim and tara have brilliantly put together a life all about cooking. splendid cooking. legacy and contemporary recipes. italian-american and, as they say, new york-inspired food. now, what’s not to love about new york-inspired food?!! they make me long to be back there.
i was perusing instagram the other evening and there they were…making cocktails. because the drinks looked both lovely and refreshing on a hot summer’s night – and because they each had a sprig of mint in them – i watched. of cawwwwse!
the camera panned to tara, as she was garnishing the drinks. mint in her hand, she slapped it gently against the glass saying, “give those mint leaves a little bit of a whack to release their oil” and then added it to the drinks. simple, practical wisdom.
all of life fell into place.
just a few days earlier in the week – during dinner on our deck with 20 – i had added mint from our potting stand to our ice waters. i was curious that i didn’t really taste the mint, though there was a considerable sized leaf in my glass.
but…i hadn’t whacked it.
now i understand.
funny how that just seems to apply to – well – everything.
a little gentle whack.
sometimes, it just propels us forward a tiny bit. sometimes, it stops the whirling thoughts tornado-ing in our minds. sometimes, it nudges the spinning plates – all spread out on the horizon plane – and lines them up so that we can get to them one by one, lined up instead of spread out. sometimes it unlodges the thought bubble, bursting it into a shower of incandescent, bright creating. sometimes, it infuses a little courage, a little bravery, a little chutzpah.
pages 63-74 should be required reading. “don’t make assumptions.”
don’t get me started.
“it is always better to ask questions than to make an assumption…”
don’t get me started.
“if we hear something and we don’t understand, we make assumptions about what it means and then believe the assumptions. we make all sorts of assumptions because we don’t have the courage to ask questions.”
please don’t get me started.
“make sure the communication is clear.”
oh, yes.
i’m guessing the reason we love trails so much is that there is nothing on a trail that isn’t transparent. there is no agenda. there is no discrimination. the forest is not riddled with malfeasance. it just is. it’s quiet, a sanctuary of truth, the sanctity of nature.
i suppose most of us have been the target of miscommunicated or misrepresented or mischaracterized assumptions at one time or another. there is not much one can do about this, shy of broad announcements of clarification or the slow dissemination of true information. damage control is never as successful as creating damage. and that kind of damage can be damning.
we need not ingest information that is untrue – we need not immerse in gossip, spread words that skew clear understanding, speak words that are not impeccable. because we have – likely – each experienced the fallout of some sort of assumption, it would seem just as likely that we would be suspect of anything we hear that appears odd, out-of-character, unsolicited, a complete surprise. it would seem that we would approach anything like that with caution, weighing the possibility of bad intention. it would seem that – in light of the hell we might have experienced in our own time-as-target – we would go directly to the source, ask questions, try to find clarity.
but there are people who have not read pages 63-74 or, perhaps, found any other resource with this same basic human lesson. their lack creates needless suffering in others.
in the column under the word “detest” i would place mosquitoes.
anything that can be minutely tiny and, really, barely visible, but can instantly wreak havoc on any summer evening or afternoon hike or, geesh, morning coffee, really has no right to be on the “well-loved” list.
that incessant buzzing you hear – in the bedroom – when you are trying to go to sleep…you just know it’s headed for you, it’s looking for you, it will bite you. mosquitoes own big stock in sleeping aid companies, i’m quite sure. they are just – in the voice of my former mother-in-law (who i can still hear in my mind saying this) “MIZZZerable!”.
wisconsin is among the states that has informally declared the mosquito as the state bird. it’s an effort to be humored by these pests, to take them in stride, to share space with them. yuck.
i picked a slip out of the jokes and riddles bowl, sweet mementos of cherished helen. “mosquito – an insect that makes you like flies better.” considering what i know about flies – all the disgusting stuff – in general one would be hard-pressed to like flies better than anything. but – relative to mosquitoes? i guess they aren’t as pathetically-unloved. unless they are the horse flies of the beach or those black flies in new england or midges or biting gnats or the dreaded no-see-ums. none of these deserve much adoration and one has to wonder what their true purpose might be. i know, i know. the whole food source/pollinator/composter thing. (i can hear elton john singing the circle of life now.)
i’d have to agree with this slip of paper. mosquitoes make me like many things i detest – more. and, despite the bats that fly in the summer dusk sky above our ‘hood here near the lake, i still wonder about their self-esteem and self-actualization. i’d be happier to support their life goals if i wasn’t one of them.
mostly, this slip of paper from this tiny-but-powerful 95-year-old is a good reminder about one’s perspective in life, one’s point of view. i’m betting the flies appreciate it.
my son shares his name. it’s his middle name. wayne.
it was in the middle of my second pregnancy we lost my vastly-loved big brother. my little girl was two; my little boy not yet arrived. i had lost grandparents before that. but, somehow, despite our sadness in these losses, in their older-age, it seemed a natural part of the life cycle. my brother was different. it was today, 31 years ago. and he was merely 41, which is twenty-three years younger than i am at this moment.
though my brain somehow grasped the details of his cancer, my mind couldn’t wrap itself around how it was possible that the world could go on if he could no longer feel it. i still struggle with this. i am not naive enough to think it all ceases because of one – but the lack of the act of feeling, the passion of feeling, the tactile, the visceral of feeling – all this – it felt – no, feels – inordinately complicated to me. the full-stop. surely, in the moments i ponder this is when i realize how utterly futile it is to try and control anything, to be utterly absorbed in stuffff, to not stop and notice the tiny delicate flowers on the path.
we are reading a book together. though the actual book has nothing at all to do with this post or my brother or pausing on trails in the woods, the title – for me – is relevant: i have some questions for you.
i do, my big brother. i have some questions for you.
i know you know, bro, how adored you always were. did you take it with you? can you feel it on this other plane you are on?
i know you loved coffee ice cream, hot cups of coffee, birthday cake. are your senses as vibrant? did you smell the peonies in our backyard? can you now catch a whiff of the lavender, the mint, the basil? can you feel the sun? are you aware of the breeze – or – are you the breeze itself?
i know you loved to hear neil diamond, loved to play guitar and sing, loved to feel your hands on projects of wood. do you float in and out now, catching snatches of song, feeling the pick in your hand, hearing the scroll saw start up?
i know you loved. are you right here – loving – right now? are you right next to your wife, your beloved children and your grandchildren, and, if we could touch incandescence, the full spectrum of color, translucent gossamer, could we touch you?
i know you are not in a physical form on this earth. but are you simply unseeable? are you, in turn, coffeesitting with our mom and dad and then swooping in to somehow steadfastly drop wisdom or strength onto the rest of us?
i know you probably don’t have any questions. but i do. and, as my big brother, you will need to find a way to answer them, as i am counting on you to explain all this.
i’ll stop – wayne – at the delicate flowers in the woods. i’ll slow down and dance on the deck. i’ll try not to worry about the angst of the day-to-day. i’ll feel and i’ll drop into pause.
there are times i know you are here. there are times i know our sweet momma and poppo are here. i wish it were easier to see you.
in some kind of trust – right smack in the middle of grace and not-knowing – i do believe you are the wind.
the socks came packaged with soup mix and a ladle we use every single time we serve soup. “keep your head up ⬆⬆” was good advice. it still is. and every time i wear these – mostly as sleepynightnight socks to avoid dreaded leg and foot cramps – i think of margaret and ruth, who sent them to me.
we are going to need to stop reading our news app each morning. instead, i should sip coffee against my pillows and stare at my socked feet. it’s the only way to avoid having the day start in angst. headlines of corrupt politicians, the unconscionable politicization of the supreme court, compassionate human and equal rights being stripped right and left, the undermining and diminishment of LGBTQ, gun-toting individuals mowing down people at block parties and funerals and places inside and places outside. the smoke from the canadian wildfires wafts through our open windows and storms are predicted throughout the country as “severe” and “dangerous” with hail and wind and tornadoes and driving torrential rain, yet there are those who deny climate change. conspiracy theories rise like bile and individuals who bark the loudest are lauded, clowns representing constituents in this country. geeeeez.
like many, we were hopeful – though not expectant – of the supreme court siding with president biden about student loans and forgiveness. we have been dramatically affected by this crisis, by the predatory lending that took place/takes place: principalizing interest, forbearance steering, no transparency about income-based repayment plans. now, don’t get me started on transparency – for the lack thereof – opaque opacity, if you will – exists in organizations and communities where you would least expect it.
these student loans – deceptively pushing lendees further into debt – had no oversight; people are still struggling from these unfair practices, including us. nonetheless, the land of student loans is a misunderstood monster and many form rapid opinions about “free lunches” before understanding the perils of this skewed ogre. in striking down this forgiveness, the supreme court – once again – ignored the plight of real people. president biden’s words, “the hypocrisy of republican elected officials is stunning. they had no problem with billions in pandemic-related loans to businesses – including hundreds of thousands and in some cases millions of dollars for their own businesses. and those loans were forgiven. but when it came to providing relief to millions of hard-working americans, they did everything in their power to stop it.” and what about all those tax loopholes for the wealthy?
no, this is not people expecting something for “free”. this is the populace expecting the government to do something about profoundly unethical and predatory actions that have overwhelmed millions of people in this country for decades, that will continue to affect their lives and decisions and their way forward. including us.
once again, as with anything, i would suggest asking questions prior to forming highandmighty opinions. “the power to question is the basis of all human progress.” (indira gandhi)
i only have one pair of socks with words on them. d has a pair too. his say, “if you can read this, get me wine”.
maybe i need another pair – just to get through life…or at least the morning news.
i would say this quote – “everyone has their training wheels on” – is one of the best descriptions of life i have heard lately. when jack spoke the words in his pct-thru-hike documentary, i jotted them down.
because nothing is absolute, and nothing is perfected, and no one can stake claim to knowing-all-ness, i see everyone in my mind’s eye on their banana-seat-two-wheelers, training wheels attached, riding around the globe, pedaling fiercely, trying to get somewhere, anywhere, even nowhere.
i am thinking that if we all could acknowledge how little we actually know – i mean reeeally know – and how nothing we think we know is actually certain – i mean reeeally certain – we might all get along a little bit better.
the stubborn stancers, the unbudging discurious, the omniscient narcissists – these are the troublemakers. the universe is – again, in my mind’s eye – guffawing at their misguided haughtiness, the sheer arrogance of fallacious righteousness, delusional at best.
for each and every day, perspective strikes us once again. and we see that we really know very little and we realize that nothing is for sure. so we learn – in these daily lessons – to embrace these little easily-attached helper-wheels. because life is full of unnatural skills and pedaling through can be tough.
somewhere, there is a long line of humankind-humans who are waiting to size up their training wheels so they can add them next to their ten-speeds, their roadbikes, their colorful cruisers, their folding ebikes. they – the canny ones – know they are always in training.
reverse threading 