Tuesday, August 29, 2017

It's a New Day



. . . or is it simply the same day and the same hour with differences? Either way I'm grateful for this day and time. Children we've never seen before, out riding bikes and trespassing in another neighbor's driveway -- signs that life is back to normal for some in our community. 

Hearing my friend, Myrna hollering and directing her household as usual is like listening to the same violin student practicing scales. It's life as usual. There's traffic and sirens, too many helicopters flying too low overhead to be anything but news choppers . . . New news both saddens and lifts our hearts at the same time. Others east and northeast of us are taking on water now. People from other states have come to our rescue. People we've helped during and in the aftermath of their disasters are paying it forward. I believe there are more good people in our world than not, and in spite of what Ann Coulter said about rather believing that God punished Houston for having elected a lesbian mayor than in climate change, I say to her, "I love you, Ann Coulter. And by the way, our district attorney is a lesbian too." Just as much Love and thanks go out to everyone who even gave us a thought or a prayer. 


The light! I felt it even before it fully broke through the full cloak of grays and white. We finally see the sky! I left the blinds open because I wanted some of the sunlight to fall across my desk first thing; then I took a nap. I woke to warmth and light.


It's an awkward, backward, laying on its back L, but it's an L catching light. This is my one studio window. It faces the street but live oak is mostly all I see when I look out or down, unless there are doves sheltering or nesting. The sky blue always reminds me of Oiler blue. The Light always reminds me to hold on to Hope. 


There are signs. and reminders. I suppose it's all about how you choose to look at things. I wonder if she lost her olive branch? I wonder how she died. Did she drown? JC and I put out food for them every day. She died with her eyes open. How she came to be in the driveway is a mystery, but I picked her put, wrapped her well . . . Life goes on.



A single partial postcard is better than no postcard. Some is better than none. With all the humidity around glue doesn't hold, ink pours like Morton salt . . . or is hemorrhage a better word? Pencils never fail. So I did pencily things. I thumbed through stacks of magazines, read articles, old letters written by a woman who's been gone for a little while. Some loving soul printed all the letters and sent them to friends, who sent them to other like-minded souls, who made them available to potential like-minders, and I received a friend's copies and had them copied at Kinko's. 

Did I ever mention how I used to barter my talents for services to some who couldn't afford the talent of a graphic designer? No? Well, I did caricatures of a certain Kinko's manager's staff in exchange of a limited amount of free coping. She went south on me before I used all my credits because she swore I drew the nose she'd spent thousands on having redone, like I knew her or something. We never met.

I did it! I wrote out the storm!!! It just occurred to me. My goodness, I did it. There'll be mail going out as soon as a mail truck comes in. *grin*

Thank you. And be well.













6 comments:

  1. love the post and so sorry for the bird I hope she did not have babies waiting on her to come home . well thank you for taking care of her you are a good soul . Glad you are okay and you should be getting mail from me soon if it did not float away .Be well my dear hurricane rider LOL .....

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    1. Thanks bunches. It never occurred to me that there might be babies waiting to be fed. I see so few juveniles this time of year, or perhaps it's my eyes that fool me. Without glasses everything is softer and . . . Wait a minute. Words on pages are softer and have blurred lines. LOL. I'm sitting here watching the feeders, waxing grateful . . . The sun feel like a benediction today. The warmth on the back of my neck feels so good when I sit on the patio or walk the yard on inspection. There are branches to pick up and dispose of, empty pots to upend; I found the very large snail shell I'd left on the patio table. All is quiet on the home front but Harvey is in Louisiana. He's been downgraded, thank God.

      We haven't had mail since Thursday or Friday. I forget. :) JC put my mail in our box where it will sit until the mail boat comes. :) I hope nothing floated away.

      Oh my! I like my new moniker. It's on a par with Pecos Bill. Remember him? The liar. Told anyone who'd listen how he rode a tornado, fell so hard the ground caved in and the dent he made is known as Death Valley. LOL. Only in Texas.

      Alls well that ends well and stays well. Be well.

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  2. Interesting comment about how you drew her "former" nose. Shadows of it still lingered! Anyways glad to see that the sun is out finally!

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    1. LOL. I like "Shadows of it lingered." A caricature is simply an exaggeration, right? I exaggerated her wee nose and and accidentally re-established her true identity. :)

      The sun feels so good and it's so happy to be back it's playing hide and go seek.

      Thanks!

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  3. So happy you came through the storm ok! You are an inspiration!

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    1. Thank you! We're drying out. I made it to the bird feeders without rain boots today. Now that's real progress. It isn't easy accepting your kind description of being an inspiration. Millions of people prayed as hard or harder, as often or more often, but were not spared. I'm wrestling with some survivor's guilt, but gratitude outweighs all else. I feel the way I imagine Job must have felt in the end. I won't ask, "Why us, Lord," but will keep right on being grateful.

      Thanks for thinking of us. Harvey is in Louisiana now. While we're glad to see him go, we're trying to head of him off with continued prayers and Hope. May those east of us have a better outcome.

      Be well.

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