The Orange and Black

Flap Your Wings

Small

Herself speaks.

Over last weekend, Tiny Dog fell ill. Two emergency vet trips, differing diagnoses, and multiple medications later, she is on the mend. We saw the regular vet -- such a soft-spoken, smart, calm and wise man -- who explained why the emergency vets were a bit overreactive and what Tiny Dog needed to get better. And she is better. I am so relieved.

It's hard to explain how very distressing it is for me when the pets are ailing. It's much more upsetting than an ill person. (It's upsetting enough, in fact, that I could not even bear to write about it here until Tiny Dog was well on the mend.) 

Let us hope she continues to improve. I do love her, my Tiny Dog. 

May Rose

Hatching

This morning while out for a sniff-and-stroll for the Small Dogs, I spotted half of an eggshell on the sidewalk -- some wee little bird must have recently hatched out, leaving this remnant behind. Where was the nest for this bird? I could not see one.

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Five years ago today was the Unmooring. The grief of that event has attenuated over time, and it is now possible to reflect on it without undue sorrow. I am not sure yet that I can think of the Unmooring as an emergence into a new world, but perhaps I can think of recollections from the time before the Unmooring as forming a lovely, ephemeral eggshell in which I once grew.

Origins

Yesterday's Facebook Memories reminded us of my very beginning -- ten years ago. 

Imagine that. 

Hum

The hummingbirds are back!

Under His Eye

Herself speaks.

Abortion is under threat of becoming illegal in the United States.  Affordable health care -- including availability of birth control and prenatal care -- is becoming harder and harder to obtain. It feels as though womankind is under siege, with our ability to control our childbearing and our fertility slipping, slipping, slipping away through our fingers.

Here are a few thoughts.

The Women
I know multiple women who have had abortions. Each woman's story is unique, and not one made their decision lightly.

• The college student who needed to finish her degree in order to be able to make a life for herself and her future children.
• The young single woman whose strict family would have made her life a living hell for having an out-of-wedlock child.
• The married woman whose fetus carried a severe genetic defect.
• The married mother whose new pregnancy triggered a fast-growing gynecological cancer, who had to choose between trying to bring the pregnancy to term before dying, or terminating the pregnancy to receive treatment and live to see her toddler grow to adulthood.
• The mother whose birth control failed just as she had begun a new fast-paced job that would enable her to dig herself out of the post-divorce financial hole.

These are just some examples. As I wrote them out, I found myself writing their explanations -- as if it is only acceptable to terminate a pregnancy for Certain Good Reasons. Yet: each woman has a Good Reason for herself. Whether her reason is a "good enough" reason for the rest of the world is immaterial.

The Sex
So much shaming of women for being sexually active. "They should just close their legs."

Well, that's (disgusting) oversimplification.

Sex is part and parcel of the human condition; a vast majority of men and women have sex. I cannot speak to male motivations, only to female ones -- and women seek out sex for so many reasons. For intimacy, acceptance, a feeling of being loved and desired. For escape from the banality or difficulty of daily life. To please another person. A biological urge. Because when done right, it feels good. Because of  pressure from peers, a lover, or a partner. Because they feel as if they have no choice. It's a complicated, multi-faceted decision, even when some of the choices are made subconsciously.

Why do lawmakers get to legislate what circumstances and reasons are acceptable for a woman to have sex? And why are they hell-bent on ensuring it is difficult for women to prevent (let alone terminate) pregnancy?

The Men
Women aren't getting pregnant by themselves.

Where are the men in the policing of sex? What is the impact on men? Simple: None. Men are always free to walk away; to refuse to acknowledge a pregnancy; to decline to pay child support; to ignore a child.

Why do men get a free pass, and women bear (literally and figuratively) all? And what is so threatening to them about women being able to choose when, and if, to give birth to a child, that it is being made increasingly difficult for women to do so?

We can exclaim that it is a power play based on a desire to keep women subservient. That might be true. There may be other reasons as well -- for example, a deep-rooted urge to control what other people do and don't do. Why? I do not know.

I can hardly bear to think about these things. They fill me with despair. And with fear for womankind.

I will do what I can to help.

 

Handmaidens found at www.syfy.com, here:

https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/under-his-eye-the-handmaids-tale-wins-yet-another-award

Moving

Herself speaks.

For the road trip I mentioned earlier this week, I journeyed forth to Offspring the Third's college, helped him pack up his possessions, and returned home with him. He is relieved to be home. I am relieved on his behalf, that the grueling semester is over and he can relax and decompress.

When I arrived at his dorm suite, he was not yet there (he was helping a friend move an art project). I entered his bedroom in the suite, and looked around at his clutter and disarray. In truth, it was a little overwhelming to me -- I am not a visual person, and I find myself stressed by the sight of too many things all at once. Nevertheless, we were on a deadline to pack up and get out, so I rolled up my sleeves and got to work. He arrived shortly thereafter, and reviewed for his last final exam while I continued. He went and took his final exam and I began moving the packed bits into my vehicle. All told, it took about six hours to pack and empty the room. And then he was done.

As I packed, I thought about the level of faith that Offspring the Third has in me: he knew that I would not judge him for his mess or the multitude of his miscellaneous possessions; he trusted me to take care of the things that needed doing. And I did. I know how overwhelmed he has been. Doing this act of service was an act of love.
------

I'm sure I've made mistakes as a parent -- it's inevitable, when navigating the mysterious waters of raising another human being while being a fallible human being oneself. Nevertheless, I hope that I have succeeded in teaching them that when they are overwhelmed by a task at hand, I will pitch in and help them get through. I'm not here to judge them for being anxiety-laden or sad or overwhelmed or paralyzed by uncertainty or exhaustion:  the rest of the world will do that. I'm here to be their backup; to be a safe place to land.

The world can be a cold, hard place. Everyone needs a place of safety. As long as I can, I shall be a sheltering tree for those I love.

Picture copyright 2016, 2019, Mediocria Firma. 

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Footwear

Offspring the Third presented me with flamingo-printed crocs for Mother's Day.  They are excellent. Thank you, thoughtful child of mine. 

Grassy

I lay down in the grass this evening. I am tired, physically and mentally (see previous posts on the difficulties of May), and the grass was just right for rejuvenating. The small dogs were a bit perplexed, and stayed nearby. The moon was a pale orb looking down. It was nice.

Road Trip

I do enjoy a solitary drive. 

Snail Stroll

Tiny Dog spotted a wee snail making a journey across the sidewalk this morning while we were out for our daily early constitutional. She was a bit annoyed that I would not let her investigate too closely, but I wanted to make sure the snail had safe passage.

It's always nice to see all the wee creatures out and about. 

Not Enough 'No' In The World

Jiminy Christmas, the spam. 

\

Orville Peck

As I mentioned, we went to the Lord Huron concert this past week. It was delightful to see a band I enjoy so much, live and in person. Excellent.

Orville Peck opened the show. I'd never heard of Orville Peck. 

He was magnificent. 

You can read more about him in a multitude of places. (Try here, and here, and here, for example.) For now, I will just say: listen to his voice. So smooth. Sensuous. Full-toned. Just beautiful. 

Perhaps start with Dead of Night. Then, listen to the whole album: Pony. You won't regret it.

Man Cave

New Old Dog enjoys his crate very much. We leave the door open during the day so he can tuck himself in for a nap.

Rest well, New Old Dog.  You are safe here. 

Excellent

Lord Huron in concert. Excellent. 

Vroooom

Marketing campaigns that annoy me: the bank at which Beloved Husband and I have a joint account, sending an e-mail to my e-mail address (since that is what is on file), inviting Beloved Husband to purchase a Maserati.

What if I would like a Maserati?

(Well, I don't. But still, the fact that the bank only addresses him, rubs me the wrong way.)

Feh.

In Case

Well, this is a lovely country love song.

Brett Young: In Case You Didn't Know.

Enjoy.

So Much No

Why, Amazon, WHY!? I was searching for a dress, and you showed me this... shocking image.  Is this a real woman? No one is simultaneously that thin/sculpted/endowed. There is nothing I find remotely attractive about this image, nor would I care to emulate this woman in any way. I am the wrong target audience.

Just no.

Napping in the Colors

Tail Tale

Yesterday morning, I looked at Tiny Dog's tail and noticed that it was balding. OH MY GOSH.

My first thought was of Ottoman-shaped Dog. Once upon a time, his tail looked as though it were balding, too. It was shortly after that, that he was diagnosed with cancer.

Lots of reasons for hair loss, though. Mustn't panic. Still, I was relieved when the vet had an opening to see Tiny Dog today.

The long and the short of it is, her thyroid is low. We just add another pill to her routine. Morning and evening, now, three different half-pills. Plus a special vitamin. Easy peasy.
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It may be hard to understand why I am so very fond of Tiny Dog. She is endearing, yes, and adorably feisty and small. There is more to it than that, though, because she can also be needy, shrill, and difficult on occasion. Why, then, is she so important?

Because: life is hard. Gone are the days when I could easily tend to the Offsprings' needs -- or anyone else's -- with simple things. I can no longer protect the people I care for the most from all of the slings and arrows of everyday life (though I support them as best I can as they move along their individual paths). I am aware of their trials and tribulations, and yet I cannot take their pains away. It breaks my heart. I do the best I can for them, still.

Wth the small dogs, I can bring them a kind of happiness that eludes human beings: a good meal, a walk outside to sniff the neighborhood plants, and a seat on the couch together, and they are delighted. Tiny Dog especially enjoys curling up inside my shirt when the house is cold -- and I let her, because it comforts both of us. In that minuscule contact, we are, momentarily, both content. And that is all I can ask for.

Bless you, Tiny Dog.

Oh, Dear

We shall see what this means.

May Day

It's May already. This year seems to be moving quickly.

May is always a tricky time of year: there are always changes. Whether it be the end of a school year, or an unmooring, or commencing preparation for a monumental Task -- all of these things seem to happen in May.

I do not enjoy the beginnings of Change. I adjust once I am on the path forward, but those first steps are always tricky. I don't quite know how to make it easier. I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and eventually, May will turn to June.