Red Zone

Yeah, been back in the red zone for a week or more and doesn’t look like it’s letting up. Most likely our governor is waiting until after the tourist season (which has probably contributed to our local spike since over 75% of the county’s eligible residents are vaccinated) to announce restrictions yet again. Time will tell.

In the meantime, I’m glad it’s not a polio or smallpox epidemic as I imagine those diseases would still be mutating happily today given the public’s resistance to vaccines nowadays. If only they had the same resistance to misinformation. But you know, the death of critical thinking and actually doing some proper digging to fact check, right? Oy, too much BORING research work and READING more than a headline or two sentences, right? Yeah.

Vitiligo, depression, anxiety — I’ve already got a good mix — and only one of them can be deadly untreated — but fortunately they’re not highly contagious to my fellow humans if I choose not to treat them. And at the close of my little rant here, it was dang steamy walking to the library last evening to grab a few more DVDs. We’re taking advantage of the library’s expanded hours although they’re still not open for sit-down-and-stay-awhile use. This morning I’m off to Trader’s for what may become a bi-monthly stock up — because who knows if whether or not we’ll be regressing into another round of the “quarantine” lifestyle. That’s my rant and I’m sticking to it.

On the Small Screen

Hoping to have a few DVDs waiting at the library for us today. I love a lot of the shows on @acorn_tv but “Ms. Fisher’s Modern Murder Mysteries” after “Mystery Road“ probably isn’t the best “next thing to watch” — it’s light and fluffy, fun and far-fetched, fine for when you aren’t into something that requires rapt attention — something to have on while dreaming of other shows to watch, and reminding oneself to get the series with her Aunt Phryne in it instead. Still, I am loving the telly we’ve been watching filmed from Down Under, and for now Ms. Fisher, who reminds me of Marlo Thomas’s “That Girl” on steroids solving murder mysteries will have to do.

Currently Reading

I have two books going at the moment — my morning read “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking,” recommended by a kindred here, and I’m so pleased she gave me a heads up on it…my nighttime read is a Tracy Chevalier novel, “A Single Thread.” I’m finding it slower going than Quiet, and I’m not sure yet about how much I like it. I enjoyed previous works of hers including “Girl with a Pearl Earring,” “Falling  Angels,” and  “Remarkable Creatures,” and I love how she uses “roman à clef” as she weaves her fictional narratives. For novels with excellent research on historical backgrounds, hers are well-done, but the pace of this latest read of hers feels slower, hence my hesitancy to comment on it.

An Announcement

   Recently, Instagram CEO Adam Mosseri shared “We’re no longer a photo-sharing app or a square photo-sharing app,” but rather “we’re trying to build new experiences primarily in four key areas: Creators, Video, Shopping and Messaging.” Given IG’s constant changes where from my end it seems like they throw an on/off switch, I’ve decided to de-emphasize Instagram and focus more on Twitter, and especially here at ArtFoodSoul. What is also very frustrating is censorship, not only in photos, but writing topics. It may not be apparent to my followers, but when we look at stats and see that one innocuous post may get a quarter of a million impressions on Explorer, while a post that may touch on a more sensitive subject matter may have much less than 10,000, something is off here. Perhaps subconsciously, I end up writing or posting photos that I feel will conform to IG “standards,” which of course is a moving target.
      In using Twitter and ArtFoodSoul more and IG less, I’ll likely reach fewer followers. That’s okay. I just don’t want some mystery entity, wielding a suppressive algorithm, looking over my shoulder waiting to pounce on the first false word or photo that I post.

A Welcome Rain

Yesterday was a gorgeous rainy day — and I say gorgeous because we need the rain — and the garden is thriving. Still working on one area for redesign, but I love when I can start seeing the vision come together — it’s like when you’re writing or painting and it takes a while and then all of a sudden, there it is, you’re almost there and you can see it. In the meantime, elderberries are ripening and I need to get some before the birds beat me to all of them. They’re great for cordials and immunity boosting syrups. The grapes are blowing my mind, and now that I realize how easy it is to make grape juice, that’ll be on the post-harvest to-do list. Dahlias, coneflowers, and glads are all bursting with blooms, we’ve had a few beans and blueberries, and before long the beach plums will be ripening. That’s just a taste of what we pack into this wee plot of land tucked in between the larger properties that surround us. It’s not really necessary to go big to grow good.

Garden Grooming

Did a bit of grooming in the garden yesterday afternoon before I realized just how humid it was despite the cloud cover and what felt like cooler air. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned previously how I’ve been trying to keep up with trimming off the spent sweet pea blooms from their vines before they turn to seed. I’m happy to report that I am remembering to do this, and my efforts are definitely paying off. The flowers are blooming later this year than in years past since I’ve implemented that bit of tending. Other garden tasks included a bit of weeding and planting — had some sprouted sweet potatoes and a ginger root that I’d forgotten about in the kitchen basket, so I cut them up and planted them in pots. Curious to see how they’ll do. More on the garden tomorrow. Whoopee for Wednesday!

Walkabout

What you see here and what’s really going on with me are two wildly different beasts. While I write and post, I haven’t been much into engaging with followers and I apologize for that. I love reading the comments, and certainly censoring or outright deleting some, but truth be told, the pandemic messed with an already fragile soul. What I like to project and who I actually am are vastly different. I have struggled with melancholy and anxiety for most of my adult life — presenting as introspective daydreamer and shy when I was a child. Or call it depression and stress — whatever. The point is, I haven’t been much into this scene lately. Living in a busy tourist town, while trying to recalibrate a post-pandemic life has been a challenge and I am still adjusting. What is that saying about the world being too much with us? I think sometimes we all want a break from that world; I think many times we need a break from that world, and I think sometimes we need to hear someone tell us, it’s okay to take a break from that world. Why? I truly believe we are not wired to live in that kind of world — a world that moves at breakneck speed. We are sensory beings, we are animals and that world we’ve become conditioned to accepting as “normal”, as “desirable”? It’s NOT — unless it’s truly desired. And even when it is supposedly desired, I will still believe those that believe that are fooling themselves. I am not aboriginal. I don’t even know what my ancestors did for their version of Walkabout. I only know that I want to do my own version. I want to go on Walkabout, retreating into the Dreamtime, walking the Ley lines, rescuing myself from being swallowed whole by systems that can easily absorb all of me. Thirty years ago, I might have thought I’m watching too much TV. Which was okay in a way because it was passive and relaxing — it WASN’T social media (and by social media I include TEXT messaging, probably one of the worst kinds for me) — it was just plain media — social implies engagement — and in social media I feel an inherent urgency to always always always get back get back get back as soon as as soon as as soon as — and I can’t, I simply can’t. Because…as a child when I was asked why about my feelings…I couldn’t articulate…because…sometimes…there is no reason…it just is. On that note, tonight I’m posting a grab bag of hosiery and gloves for giveaway — US and Canada are free shipping; beyond North America, shipping charges apply — no charge for the items themselves. We’re just clearing out what no longer serves us. And for the record, please know that I do read each and every comment, and if you haven’t been blocked or deleted, know that I appreciate your time. As for me, right now I’m dreaming of Walkabout.

When the Ancestors are too Close

Today is the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death. Anniversary sounds like it could be a day of celebration, “day of remembrance” is a more appropriate expression perhaps, but anniversary, commemoration, I guess those words work too. The bottom line is she died, and it wasn’t until then that I truly saw her as a human being with a life; with hopes, and dreams, fears, foibles, and shortfalls beyond those in her role as mother, my mother, my sisters’ mother, a person in her own right, separate from me, even though obviously there is probably no greater connection than that of a mother and child.
I don’t particularly like going to the cemetery where she’s buried, that’s one of the advantages of cremation, burial at sea, or a family plot I suppose. I enjoy visiting my grandparents, aunts, and uncles in the shady cemeteries where they rest, but my mother? She’s an ancestor who still feels too close to me. I’d rather remember her when I catch a glimpse of her in one of my expressions, remembering one of her sayings (when she was livid with anger she’d say “I’m on the warpath!”), or when her face would light up when a kid or grandkid visited her. How about you? If you’ve lost a parent, how do you feel about visiting their grave? I love cemeteries for many reasons, I just don’t love my mother’s.