Let Us Try

Every time I have one of those infrequent opportunities to spend concentrated leisure time with one of my Important People, I am very conscious of the rarity both of the moment, and of the feeling of peace that accompanies the occasion. It is not at all often that my brain, so constantly full of Work and Volunteer Commitments and Ordinary Obligations, is able to relax and unwind enough to feel unhurried and at peace. I am so grateful to have had one such opportunity this past weekend, and it was Lovely.

Now, as I sit in limbo in an airport in the pre-dawn hours, I am trying to adjust to the inevitability of re-entering the hustle and bustle of my Ordinary Life, while simultaneously holding on to  the Intangible Joy of the time of the past weekend. I am trying, too, not to let Grief creep in - although I know that is inevitable.  As Kahlil Gibran reminds us in The Prophet, Joy and Sorrow are inseparable:

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

They are, in fact, opposite sides of the same coin:

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

The hardest part, is knowing that Sorrow is necessary, in order to have Joy.

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I'll do my best to focus on the mundane for now. I'll go get an overpriced airport snack, continue my DuoLingo streak, and then I'll be boarding the plane back to my desert homeland soon. I will be glad to be back there. Even though I leave a piece of myself behind here. 

We will do our best to move forward, day by day. 

As the French say: Essayons. 

You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place. ― Miriam Adeney

Meds and Greens

 Mr. Mustache the bun is a fragile flower. He and I spent some quality time with the vet, trying to figure out why his poop looks so funny. He was not quite in statis, but definitely Not Right. 

Many, many meds later, and a new strict diet (that, alas, does not include his favorite bananas), and he is doing a bit better. 

I'm doing the best I can for him. There will be no Death on my watch, if I can help it. 

Bunny burrito, 

all squashed and ready to be stuffed with meds.

Allllllll the meds.

Special greens mix. Tasty.

Hang in there, Mr. Mustache. Smudge loves you, and Poppy and Cookie love to annoy you, and you have a very special place in my heart. <3

Unthinkable, and yet Unsurprising

 You all know the results of last week's election. 

I... just CANNOT.

The despair, and hopelessness, and rage -- all the things that we had momentarily left behind -- are back in full force. Our only consolation is that it's unlikely he can change the Constitution in a way that would allow him another term beyond this one. 

Even if he is 'just a figurehead' for the Republican Party -- even assuming, arguendo, that he will be somehow Harmless and that the Republican Party will be running things for the next four years, this is what we know:

It was NOT a dealbreaker to over HALF of American citizens, that the figurehead of the Republican Party is a racist, misogynistic, sexist, sexually-assaulting, convicted felon; anti-immigrant, anti-intellectual, anti-environment, isolationist; an individual who mocks disabled people, who repeats lies ("alternative facts") and misinformation and ridiculous nonsensical statements ("They're eating the dogs! They're eating the cats!"); who simulates fellatio on a microphone stand at a public event; and who is crass, vulgar, and insulting to anyone who does not immediately agree with him. 

OK, then. 

Trust no one. 

Put On Your Own Oxygen Mask First

 Herself speaks.

Whoops, it's been a bit.

The other morning I was standing in the kitchen, trying to do the usual 500 things for various people, and I realized I hadn't taken my morning meds yet (thyroid, antihistamine, antidepressant). It took a moment to pause, but I purposefully prioritized myself for the 60 seconds it took to fetch my pills.  And as I did so, I was reminded of the admonition by flight attendants as they recite the safety rules on every aircraft: if the oxygen masks descend from the ceiling, put on your own mask first before helping others.

I can't do for others, if I don't do for myself first.

-----

It's been QUITE A LOT the past couple of weeks. First, there was Beloved Husband's 40th high school reunion, which was a series of events necessitating Getting Dressed Up And Being Social With Strangers over several days in a row (for which I valiantly put on my best Appropriate Outfits and Game Face). They are on the whole very lovely people, so it was just fine, though it was a whole lot of activities in a short period of time (I generally prefer to spread out my socializing). 

Next, was The Deluge: a little-used bathroom on the second floor of the house sprang a leak. There was Water. Lots of it. Nothing of tremendous value was lost, thank goodness, but the house is now partially gutted, both on the second floor and the first floor and in the garage, too. And I am gutted too, because I feel sad for my house, and there is work to be done, and repairs, and rearranging, and my poor house is in disarray and nothing is where it belongs and that is all somewhat terrible. 

Carpet gone, wall gone. Alas.

Insurance will pay for much of the repairs, thank goodness. But still. It is all a bit awful.

Then, I had to make a Duty Travel Trip. Not much to be said about that, except it took me away from home when I would have preferred to be at home with my injured house, and the trip itself was a bit stressful and lonely, and I would have loved nothing more than to have someone with me who could have firmly hugged the tension right out of me at the end of each day -- but alas, it was a solo journey, as so many of my journeys are, and so I soldiered on by myself, as usual. 

At least on the trip, I got to see some very lovely fall colors and shuffle through some leaves. Nice. 

And after my return, one of my much-loved and aloof rabbits has decided to look slightly... peaked. I am keeping a tight eye on him, lest he need to see the vet. I do not enjoy when my pets are ill. I do not have time to worry or to spend an entire day at the vet's office, fretting and calming a hysterical furball. Alas. 

Now we come today: election day here in the United States. I don't have much to say about that right now. I feel nauseated. When I voted early last week, I stood there in the voting booth with my ballot for a while just wanting to cry. Hope is hard to find. 

So that's what is transpiring, and why I have been missing in action here. I am putting one foot in front of the other, needing more than anything for someone to put their arms around me and tell me it will all be OK. 

One day at a time. 

La Llorona

Today's earworm: La Llorona (Carmen Goett). 

It's almost Dia de los Muertos.

One of these years, I might set up an ofrenda.

Progress

I feel like I may not be accomplishing much these days, but at least I am continuing my Duolingo streak. Tres bien!

Oh, Deer

It's deer season at the park! Lovely.