Category Archives: Beloved

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without earbuds

Here is a mystery.

This picture is for scale. I went for a walk three days ago, without earbuds. I walk without earbuds so I can listen to the birds. And I mimic their calls.  I have a series of photographs of the latest bird who flew closer to see who the mimic was. See if you can guess the bird. She is not visible in this picture.

When I started the walk, a person ran by with earbuds. I feel so sad, seeing that they are cut off from nature even when they are outside. I grieve for the disconnect. And then I have a magical mysterious interaction with a very unexpected bird and joy returns…

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the tide going out

I am thinking about the term “white trash” and choices.

Is “white trash” a discriminatory term? A derogatory term? Is it a type of person or is it a “lifestyle choice”? Or is it a sum of choices?

A friend tells me that it is not discriminatory. Not an insult. A lifestyle. Then the friend says, “Some people would assume that I am white trash because I live in a trailer (manufactured home) and don’t own my own land. I rent.”

Would this person be white trash to you? Does it make a difference if they are male or female? Over 60? Under 30? Single? Have children? Would you feel differently about a single male parent than a single female parent? Would you feel differently if they are widowed instead of divorced?

And at what age do we become responsible?

If I am a child growing up in a household with alcoholism, verbal abuse, parents with mental health issues or grave illness or abandonment, where is the line where I become responsible for myself?

I surveyed my smokers for years, what age did you start? The men mostly said age 9. There was more cultural pressure on women, but the youngest started at 11 or 12. And then the horrific stories, where the parent is offering whiskey to a child under 10. My sister and I wandered around peoples’ houses in the dark when we were under ten. She was three years younger. I was a kid who did not trust adults and was careful. Scared. So we did not get into drugs or alcohol and I hated my father’s unfiltered camels. My parents would not touch illegal drugs, thankfully. I took care of my sister, but we were entirely unsupervised in barns and houses and outside….

I think that our teens are making choices at far younger ages than parents want to admit. I see parents check out when the child is fourteen or even younger. Teens who are nearly living at friends. Teens who already seem lost. And sometimes the parent is wrapped up in a divorce or a parent is sick or dying or a parent is in jail or abandons the family.

What age did you make choices? Did you make good ones? And is white trash hate speech? If you made bad choices, were you able to change later on?

What is the line between free speech and hate speech? And what is the line between love and enabling?

I am still searching….


Over the Rhine: Fool and Let it fall

For the Daily Prompt: rhyme. No, it doesn’t rhyme. But I am thinking of the phrase: no rhyme or reason….

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daily

This is for photrablogger’s Mundane Monday 124.

Just my current journal and a pen and a coffee pot. But I am thinking of the people flooded in Houston and how they would like just a clean counter and a dry journal and a coffee pot with electricity.

Our house was flooded when my family first moved to Alexandria, Virginia. We were not in danger, but the water backed up and started pouring into our basement, full of boxes of books. First we rescued my mother’s etching press engine. It was so heavy we could barely get it up the stairs. Then boxes and boxes of books. I was fourteen and the water was cold and dirty and reached to the tops of my thighs.

We pulled everything we could upstairs and then emptied boxes. We had wet books everywhere and threw tons away.

We sat on the porch. The water was six inches deep in the middle of the road. The buses still ran, and a wave would come lap our steps every time one went by.

Prayers for the flooded people in Texas and the people in dire straights everywhere.

I am deeply grateful for the mundane…

 

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fly

I took this yesterday too, nearly blind into the sun and zoomed in. I learned to hold my breath for the zoomed in photos when my daughter was in synchronized swimming. I could not see which bird this was until I downloaded the photo: a red-breasted nuthatch. I love the nuthatches, going head first down tree trunks to find food. This feeder has many birds visiting both yesterday and today….

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bad eclipse stealthie

Ok, I am a total fail on eclipse pictures.

I did no preparation, no reading and failed! I was clueless! Go ahead and laugh at me! But many thanks to my 10 am patient, because all of us were excited and ran outside to see if we could see the eclipse. I did not have the right sort of filter for my phone. I did make a pinhole in paper and took the bad picture below… we could see the eclipse on a piece of paper held behind the pinhole paper. I remembered those instructions from when I was a kid!

I did not take off because I just can’t afford any more time off than I’ve taken – run my own small business, dontcha know – and I leave for a week of CME in September. CME stands for Continuing Medical Education and I do a minimum of 50 hours a year.

We had fun anyway… and I want to go to the next eclipse…. well, the next one that is somewhere and somewhen I can afford.

bad pic

Terrible, huh? And I am happy anyhow!

I hope you find some joy in your day, somewhere….

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fountain fish

This is our Galatea Fountain again: the fountain is cooling and the sound of the water is delicious on a hot day. I hope it cools the eclipse hunters, but even more, I hope hatred and discrimination and anger and bigotry cool and slide away in healing and love.

Two steps forward and one step back: I hope we lurch towards peace.