Chasing the Moon

Last night I tried chasing the moon.  It was so beautiful:  a pale orange, hanging low, low in the sky.  I could see just a part of it, the rest obscured by trees and a cloudlet, so I drove and drove in pursuit of the moon, hoping to see it whole.  But no matter what twists and turns my route took, the moon eluded me, so at last I turned my car toward home, and told myself to be grateful that I had seen as much of the moon as I had.  I will never forget it glowing there just beyond the tree tops, huge and luminous and an otherworldly orange. 

Strangers in the night

Tonight I met a bat.  It was not a meeting I welcomed, and indeed, it was not even a meeting of which I was aware at first, and trust me, the first moment I realized that the odd squeaking rustling was coming out of something hanging from a branch over my head was the same moment I shrieked in horrified enlightenment and fled, the stray cat I had come out to feed looking after me quizzically.

Such was my sense of responsibility, however, that I lured the cat out with many blandishments and fed her right next to the back door, eager to get back inside.  With a hurried admonition to the cat that it should be careful, and a final toss of my hair to make sure there was nothing . . . untoward . . . in it, I dashed in my back door and barricaded it shut. 

I barely had the nerve to run my hands through my hair, but decided that I had better find out sooner rather than later if I had an unwelcome guest tangled on my head.  I have read about this primitive fear women have about bats and hair, but never before  understood it.

Now, intellectually I like bats.  They are helpful little creatures, and most of them innocent of evil intent.  But there is an inborn dread of them I cannot expunge, and now I am concerned that I am so spooked, I will be afraid to go into the back yard near that shrub again. 

That shrub actually made me very happy yesterday.  It is a fragrant honeysuckle which blooms in the spring, but for some reason has some open flowers on it!  I was so excited to discover this yesterday, so grateful.  My rhododendron seems on the verge of bloom, too, as a matter of fact, and my roses are still going.  Wow.  For that I am so grateful.  For the bat, less so.  I don't want it to come to harm, but I think it should move on and out.  Well, it's late, so on and out, over and out, 'til next time.

On the edge

And now I will delete this post.  I wish I dared leave it to satisfy my misery and anger, but prudence wins out.

Random comments of kindness

I went in to Philadelphia on Sunday, still struggling with the remnants of a really unpleasant cold, but determined not to break the record I have set of seeing the Phikladelphia Museum Crafts Show every year.  It is one of the two best shows of its kind in the country, and relatively easy to get to.

I had to really talk to myself sternly to get myself on the way, so let's just say my level of enthusiasm was a tad lower than previous years.  As I was walking through the train station toward the Convention Center where the show is held, a middle-aged black man, dressed neatly but not effetely in jeans and a nice denim jacket, said to me out of the blue:  "You look so pretty."  I stopped  dead in my tracks and thanked him, at which point he said again, "You look so pretty," and then, gesturing at me, "And your outfit, your skirt . . .it all looks so nice." 

Well. I told him he looked pretty spiffy himself, and he laughed and said we were both doing our bit, and I walked on, feeling wonderful.

Here was a nice, regular guy, clearly compos mentis (or not a nut job, as they put it in the vernacular) who thought I looked so pretty he wanted to tell me, and even expand on it. He was complimenting me and my outfit, not some twenty-year old.  I felt so much lighter and positive as I walked into the craft show, so much more open to the day's experiences and to others.

I am reminded of someone I knew in another lifetime, Shia Zuber, who told me that angels are just ordinary people who for that moment are used by God to bring help and support to others.  I have always liked that idea, and feel I have encountered several angels during my life so far.  And this man, in his way, was an angel, an angel sent to remind me that the right people will always find me appealing and worthwhile.

Those aren't the correct words, but it is the best I can do at the moment.  It is such a complex feeling to convey without sounding simpleminded!  Or is it a simple feeling which takes a complex explanation?  It's all too much for me to unravel. 

Let me just end by saying:  Yay, God.

Carpe Craftem

The Arts Council in town was celebrating Dia de los Muertos on Monday, and the blurb mentioned some snazzy-sounding crafts, so although I knew it would be 99% children, and although I was bushed, I went over to take a look.  First I had to stand through a brief, non-microphoned speech explaining the holiday and its observances, which, alas, was mostly inaudible.  Then there were two dancers who did a couple of traditional dances.  They started slowly, but by the end I was really enjoying it, although throughout I was eyeing the craft tables impatiently.

At last!  The program was over and it was time for crafts.  What should I make?  A skeleton head puppet or a diorama?  The diorama won out.  There was a small, deep cigar box to start with, painted red inside and black outside.  While it was drying, I made three skulls and hot glued them to three corks (I was restricted to what supplies they had, of course).  I found two small plastic dogs for two of the death's head figures to walk, and an old small metal wheel which I afixed to the top as "The Wheel of Life."  (In medieval iconography, for example, one will encounter images of the the wheel of life.)  A pair of dice with the snake's eye side showing,  and a teensy toy wood block with an M on it (for Miranda?  for Muerte?)  went inside the box in the front.  Then I found a small metal gear that looked like a crown and an old jewelry bit with dangles that upside-down looked a bit like a hat, and glued them to the heads of the two figures in front, along with a small green pom pom for one of them.  Someone filched the trim I was going to use for the edges, which I thought was really low, by the way, so I think I will use sparkle pipe cleaners.  I still have a few things to add at home - hope I get to it - but either way, it was so much fun to make something like that again!  I made a couple of dioramas a year or two ago - I will post a picture next time around.

Yay!  I'm still out of my rut!!  It takes constant vigilance not to slide back in . . . .