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Solstice Celebration

2019 Solstice celebration at my house in photos, including two (of the three) wise cats who attended (Papi, aka Meep – the ginger boy, and Tucker, the black and white).

Food – not shown – included spinach tortellini soup (makes me hungry to have more just typing it) and lentil, along with a variety of breads (including my favorite, an olive ciabatta bread). Dessert included gluten free apple pie (procured from a local store) and a chocolate yule log (from Market of Choice). Drinks were spiced wassail (with or without rum or brandy), and red or white wine, with coffee, tea, and hot chocolate served with dessert.

The log was burned in a fire pit in the backyard. My spouse, the woman in blue in one photo, is the force behind it. Cheers

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Lee Scoresby

We’ve been watching His Dark Materials (HBO), and mostly enjoying it, although the story feels like it’s rushed more than the books. But then, that’s why I prefer reading (and writing) books. I can indulge in my imagination more, and let matters (and story) expand and flow with fewer constraints.

Lin Manuel Miranda is playing Lee Scoresby, aeronaut, friend of Irok (the armored bear) and protector of Lyra (one of many). Sam Elliot played Lee in the first movie, The Golden Compass. Sam aligned more with how I saw Lee in the novel, so I thought he was casting perfection. Nevertheless, Lin does a damn fine job (not surprising for someone as talented as Lin).

Here’s the kicker and the point to this whole post: a man who looks like Lin Manuel Miranda as Lee Scoresby just walked into the coffee shop. After I stared at him, watching his passage across the coffee shop (which he noticed) (it seemed to disconcert him), I had to go outside and check – balloon? Large white bear in armor? Gyptians? Flying witches?

No; just Lee, sneaking in for a cuppa…and perhaps here for a secret assignation.

Who the hell knows?

(The weirdest thing: after he came in…he disappeared…)

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Happy Solstice

Down south, where it’s hot, I wish you all cooler days and safety.

Up north, where it’s dark and cold, I wish you light and warmth, along with your safety.

One door is closing; another is opening.

Let’s go on through.

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Impressions

Impressions crept in on her, darkening her mood. His cell-like room felt dryer and hotter than she remembered the Sahara being. Negativity spiked from him like blackberry bramble thorns. When he spoke, words lurched out like they were freight cars in a train that didn’t have the engine for its load.

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Them

When he said, “The sun is up,” he expected her to reply, “It’ll get dark soon.”

Which she did.

In the gulf between their words were all the bridges that they’d found and built, burned and lost, and began and never finished, the metaphor for them.

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The Hated Dreams

I hated the dreams that I had last night. All were about being overlooked, forgotten, or ignored. All featured others being given promotions, honors, and awards.

Little surprise was experienced as I reviewed the dreams. I’m sliding into the dark side of my spectrum. Haven’t visited it for almost sixty days – or, more likely, it was visited and overcome. This week, though, I heard the dark side spitting and hissing at me, felt its snake bite sometimes, etc. Coping with it – fighting is the wrong thing to do (for me – your needs probably vary) (unless you’re me, of course) (and if you ARE me, what the hell are you doing out there?) and its impact, I felt myself losing the battles. Part of that is being forced to socialize more – ’tis the season (ho, ho, fucking ho). Socializing drains me faster than an old car battery with the lights left on (but it’s expected, why don’t you want to see friends and have fun?  Why must you be like this? Oh, sorry, when I made this choice, I didn’t look at the entire menu, or I would have gone with something else. Sure, it’s all that easy, because life is binary, black or white, innit? And it’s all within our control.) (Bah, humbug.) (I should coin that.)

Well, to me (and these dreams), I said, fuck you, too (yeah, original – I should  be a writer). I know what’s going on. Can’t quite shrug it off so much as cope and swore, whine and moan, and remind myself, this shit will also pass.

Coffee, stat.And maybe a scone, too. Comfort foods. It’s that time of life.

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Traditions

Both were from Swedish families and celebrated the holidays using Swedish traditions, until one year, it became too much. Thereafter, they began a new tradition of making and eating ravioli on Christmas. They still observed everything else as before, except for their new traditional Christmas meal.

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Explaining

Explaining what you said

because you didn’t feel right in the head

(just like so many days)

Explaining away your life

it was all pain, sickness, and strife

(that’s why you wasted so much in bed)

Explaining away today

and how it all got away

(well, there’s always tomorrow, innit there?)

Explaining what went wrong

after everything is gone

(well, it really wasn’t your fault now, was it?)

 

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The Dream’s Train Segment

I was in Germany, walking along railroad tracks in the countryside. An elderly man was there. Tired, in holed clothes and mismatched shoes, he was befuddled, trying to say something and not saying much. I thought he wanted to get on the train, but I wasn’t sure. Nothing coherent came from him. While I wanted to help him, exasperation crept in; I had things to do, and he was not making sense.

I missed the train. I began to chase it. I didn’t run, but walked, and not at a fast pace. I followed a path that ran parallel to the tracks. The train would stop a bit ahead, and then, as I grew closer, take off again.

Then, I don’t know why, I decided I was going the wrong way. Reversing direction, I passed the old man again. I told him, “There’s the train, I’m going to catch it, if you want to come with me.” But he stayed where he was, in the sunshine, glancing around.

The train was stopped. I caught it, got onboard, and found my wife. She and I began shopping. It was important for her to get a supply of food. These were big emergency bags. Everyone was going for them. I didn’t think we needed them, and questioned what was in them, but she was insistent, so I took one.

Then we were walking through a department store with other shoppers. I had no idea what we wanted, so I mostly focused on killing time until the next part arrived. I was certain that was about to happen. An old friend, who was a first sergeant in the Air Force, stopped me to ask for some advice about what she should do regarding a personnel issue. As I was giving her my opinion, my wife returned looking for me. I introduced the two of them and they chatted. As that happened, others hailed me, seeking advice or help. I helped them as I could, and then my wife and I went on.

When we went on, my wife said to me, “I see what you mean. Everyone wants some part of you.”

We arrived at a cabin where we were going to stay. It was luxurious but small. I decided that I needed to prepare for the next day. I removed my clothes, which turned out to be a military uniform (light blue shirt, dark blue pants), and steam-pressed it so it would look good.

The segment ended.

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