Unexpected rewards

I went tonight, with the other MR square dance "girls" to do a demo at the Burlington Farm Fair.  I have never been to a country fair before, and had no idea what to expect, other than sweating, because it was well over 90 degrees in the evening (the demo was relatively late to allow time to get there post-Shabbes).

It was so beautiful, I felt like crying.  There were three different types of Ferris Wheels lit up in multicolored glory against the night sky, and some other intimidating-looking rides, all embellished with different patterns and colors of light - they were at some distance from me, and I could hear the excited cries and laughter of the people in the rides floating across the fairgrounds to me.  I just stood and drank it in, and thought to myself of the wonderful things that can come if one just opens oneself up to new experiences.

The demo itself was fun, although we were all dripping by the end!  Judy, Sue, Chir, Nad, Martina, someone very nice whose name I forget, Teddie, and I were there, and quite a few enthusiastic teenagers and younger adults joined in, which was so nice, because often teenagers can seem so disaffected and square dancing isn't the "coolest" activity around.  But they loved it!

We didn't get to do Mainstream, which consists of 68 different calls and is really varied and interesting to do because of the beginners watching who wanted to dance right away, so instead we did three "tips" (two dances each, one called, one singing) with just dos a dos, right and left grand, left and rightt allemande, circles, right and left hand stars,  swings, and promenades.  Of course, everyone was dripping, but when the caller said that was it for the night, several of us asked for another "tip" and when he agreed, 16 people (two squares) got up to dance!  That's true enthusiasm, folks.

Walking back to my car, I made a point of pausing for a last look at the neon-decorated rides.  All were still illuminated; I felt lifted out of myself by their beauty.  And I thought gratefully to myself how wonderful it is that agreeing to something new, opening oneself up to other experiences, can bring such an unexpected reward.


My life grows fuller and more rewarding;  may I continue on the right path.

I slew nine with one blow . . . .

I wish I had Puxx N Boots to help me deal with my

gnat problem.  He'd know what to do with them.

My kitchen and bathroom have been invaded by clouds of gnats, nasty, obnoxious, nitpicky little gnats.  They fuss around my face, they cluster on the ceiling, they swirl around the light fixtures.  They are, in a word, icky.

Fortunately, I have discovered spraying them with Fantastic kills them quite effectively, and I can get quite a few with one spritz.  Unfortunately, that means I sometimes go berserk, spraying the ceiling, the wall, the counters, everywhere with Fantastic, which lingers briefly in the air, and then drifts down into my hair and my eyes, if I don't close them quickly enough.  Anything that is left out when I spray has to get thoroughly washed and dried to remove the Fantastic film.  This is a nudge and a half, but the dead flecks that used to be annoyingly lively little gnats make it all worthwhile.  This is the first time I have felt a bloodlust.  Ordinarily, if I kill an insect I apologize and feel bad.  Unless one of the gnats seems to linger, I feel no remorse.  I have become a serial gnat killer.

Being able to kill several gnats with one burst puts me in mind of the beginning of the story of Puss in Boots, where he "slays" several flies with one blow, and adopts the motto "I slew nine with one blow," leading to the misunderstanding that he killed nine people.  (This was not in the original tale by Perrault, but in a variation in a storybook I had as a child.)

I just wish I could kill 900 with one spritz.  At 9 at a time, I'm going to have gnats flying around for a while.

Be careful what you wish for - you may get it!

I ended my last entry with a wish for intriguing dreams.  I have been having positively labyrinthine, byzantine nightmares lately, but I had a respite for about a week.  Last night, back they came.  I dreamt I became engaged to a childhood friend called Carl Morgenstern, who in the dream lived in Boston and was a Bostoner Chossid.  (In real life, I knew him in elementary school here in Princeton and I don't believe he was even Jewish.)

The eyelashes in my dream

were actually iridescent

blue and purple, and hung

down about 4"!

As the dream continued, it became increasingly clear that I had made a monumental error.  A variety of figures from my past, distorted and disguised in dream language, appeared and reluctantly warned me.  All kinds of other surreal things happened, including a woman coating my eye lashes with iridscent colors which weighed them down so that they hung over my eyes - they had become four inches long or so.  My eyelashes are long; occasionally strangers stop me and comment on them; but four inches?  No.

Lorenzo the Magnificent appeared in the dream unchanged from reality, and suggested I run for my life, so to speak.  But the shul I was in was in a train, somehow, that had gone to Linden (where ever that is) while I was preparing, and I didn't know a) how to get out without being apprehended and b) how to get home.  It went on, with all kinds of detours and recurring motifs from other dreams (being in a theater, trying to write and not being able to, asking for information and not being able to get it) and when I finally woke up, I was quite upset.

Apart from it being an understandable anxiety dream, I'm not sure what else was going on.  I'll write it down in my book and understanding will come later.

I have to say though, I'd rather have a not-so-pleasant dream than no dream at all . . .  the workings of the sleeping subconscious mind are so fascinating, no matter what!

I've been away for a long time -






This is a beautiful rose called Red Eden, because

its lush form recalls the original pink Eden rose,

which grows along my house's wall.

I haven't posted since mid-June, when I was in an extremely happy frame of mind.  I have, fortunately enough, been extremely happy several times since then, although I haven't taken the time to post.  Just recently I met two newish friends for a bite and then an evening of G and S music, which was so delightful I just floated home.  The three of us got on so well, and proposals were made for several more meetings this summer, so I also felt grateful and excited about new friendships, as well as about old friendships renewed.

Work drags on at my house, with the contractor disappearing for days on end, sending texts that he will be there the next day and then not showing up.  It is very wearying.  I believe he is a basically honest guy who is in over his head, makes promises without thinking them through, and then through embarrassment or whatever, avoids me until he gets the courage to come back again for a day or two.

My garden, despite the depredations of Frick and Frack, the two semi-idiot workers the contractor sends,  has for the most part survived their stupefying carelessness,  rallying with lovely rebloom.  The miraculous beauty of roses and other flowers always reminds me of all the beauty that exists in the world, and I am overcome with a sense of wellbeing and gratitude that blots everything else out.  I feel uplifted and surrounded by hope and possibility.  Frankly, it amazes me how it never fails. 

Year after year, my pink Heritage rose blooms, and year after year, I am moved to tears by its beauty.  I never tire of it, I never become accustomed to it; it always strikes me as a miraculous gift from above, and it always fortifies me.  I am thankful for this; becoming innured to the beauty that surrounds us would be a terrible fate.  So although there are many, many things about myself that I

Above left, a pale daylily with lemon-lime

throat, and right, rebloom on my beloved

though invasive wisteria.

wish were different, many things I  wish G-d could have done differently, this one thing is a source of constant happiness and appreciation.  It isn't restricted to the obvious, like flowers.  A metal door with peeling paint can fascinate me; a light green car parked next to a turquoise car can stop me in my tracks.  Visual pleasures are everywhere if one just opens ones eyes and lets go of preconceptions.  Well, to bed.  Another day of life's mixed pleasures lies ahead;  a good night's sleep, with some intriguing dreams (I hope!) will help me make the most of it.