Vicki Lane's Blog, page 80

Looking Around

 

Autumnal Equinox

The sun is in the middle of our horizon, beginning its long slide south. 

Poised between summer heat and winter cold, we enjoy the glory and the poignant, fleeting beauties of autumn. 

Just now, our windows are still open, but I'm wearing a hoodie and sleeping under blankets at night. 

It's all about balance.

                                                         

Fuchsias and Coming to the Mountains

The first fuchsia I ever saw was hanging on my friend Vicky Owen's front porch, a little ballerina of a flower. It seemed magical to me like everything in this part of the world--the muted roar of the branch that ran in front of their old cabin, the dance of the hummingbirds feeding in the fluffy pink flowers of the mimosa tree just below the porch, the lilt of the fiddle and dulcimer--back in Chapel Hill, Vicky and Malcom had been members of the Fuzzy Mountain String Band.


My Mothers' Day fuchsias are going strong, thanks to frequent watering. And I've actually rooted some -- a first for me.  Besides being beautiful, fuchsias hold a special lovely memory for me.
In 1973, John and I and not-quite-one Ethan were on a quest to find a new place to live--more nature and fewer people. Florida had become too hot and way too crowded. We were headed north to look at some land in New York state, maybe even in Canada.


But, first, we stopped to visit my old college friend Vicky and her husband on the farm they'd bought only a year ago. After navigating the winding river road from Asheville and finding our way to the Barnard bridge, our hand-drawn map assured us we were almost there--only eight miles! In Florida, that's about eight minutes.
The road up Big Pine is winding and narrow with steep drop offs here and there. That eight miles seemed to take an hour and a half, and we were at the point of turning around, sure we were in the wrong place, when we spotted a landmark the map had shown.

We turned off, at last, onto the road up to the cabin. It was full of large rocks that our Scout could just barely crawl over. But at last we found our friends, ensconced in the old house they were slowly renovating. And I drank in the beauty of the land and felt the appeal of the simple mountain life our friends were living.

What was going to be a brief visit turned into a search for land and an introduction to a community.
 And here we are, with fuchsias on our own front porch and grateful memories of departed friends.

 

Re: Guilt--A Conundrum

Something has been puzzling me. I wonder what the overlap is between the (white)folks who don't want history taught that might cause their (white)children to feel guilty--you know, the history of the treatment of minorities, the history of colonialism and underhanded dealing by our government, et cetera, et cetera-- are these the same folks who subscribe to the Christian doctrine of Original Sin?
Do these same folks scare their kids with the story of Adam and Eve who 'sinned' by seeking knowledge of Good and Evil? Do their kids feel guilty for having been born a sinner and in need of redemption?
Just wondering. . .

 

Re Guilt: A Conundrum

Something has been puzzling me. I wonder what the overlap is between the (white)folks who don't want history taught that might cause their (white)children to feel guilty--you know, the history of the treatment of minorities, the history of colonialism and underhanded dealing by our government, et cetera, et cetera-- are these the same folks who subscribe to the Christian doctrine of Original Sin?
Do these same folks scare their kids with the story of Adam and Eve who 'sinned' by seeking knowledge of Good and Evil? Do their kids feel guilty for having been born a sinner and in need of redemption?
Just wondering. . .

 

Summer's End

 

In Her Own Words

                                                                           

Hi. I AM JOSIE. I GO TO SCHOOL AT BRUSH CREEK ELEMENTARY. I AM 6. I AM IN FIRST GRADE. 

HERE IS ME.

Meema helped with the hard words. 

                                                         

Owed to Monty Python

                                                                              

                                                          The Quandary

                                                                          

“So, what do you think we should do?” Pope Aloysius VII gazed out the krystalplex window of his apartment in the New Vatican. New Rome shimmered in the distance, air cars swooping and shuttle cars threading silver webs across the ancient vista.

At his side the young nuncio cleared his throat, “It is, indeed, a perplexing question, Your Holiness. I don’t have a ready answer. But perhaps we could-”

“It seems to me . . .” From the shadows of the tapestry-hung chamber, a third voice spoke. Cardinal Jimenez stepped forward.

“We have two choices. One: Accept this . . . this entity as the Second Coming; Two: Denounce it as a demon, or . . . threaten it with the comfy chair. Three, we have three choices.” 

I came across this bit of silliness as I was rootling through my files. I'm still a Monty Python fan. See the skit that inspired this HERE.

Celebrate the Day

                                                                             

Wishing a Happy Rosh Hashanah to those who celebrate it and a peaceful Sunday to all.
Except for those Texas Republicans--they know who they are.

Seasonal Shift

                                                                             

The Equinox (9/23) is a week away but cooler weather and a desire to spread out the work had me getting started on my seasonal rearranging yesterday. Down come the paintings of white lilies and the blue and white porcelain and up go the mountain road and the quilters, in suitably autumnal colors. And some crows.                                                       
Away with the seashells and summer stuff in the corner cupboard. I guess I'm glad that I have only two shelves to work with since Josie's Castle People have exercised Eminent Domain on the bottom two.
Yes, those are cleaning supplies under Danielle Barlowe's beautiful Raven. (If you don't know her work, give yourself a treat and check out her website HERE.) Moving stuff around always reveals an embarrassing accumulation of dust and cobwebs to be dealt with. Another good reason for this seasonal shift.
There's still lots to do, mainly cleaning--but it can wait.