The Heat of a 'Cool' Night.

 was awake/woke up again around 5 am. Temp was down to 73F so I thought I'd go outside for a while. Water my poor baked roses and make sure the lilac wasn't dehydrating (as if I'd be able to see that in the crepuscular predawn.) Get my clean laundry and the rest of my pop out of the car before the world starts heating back up.

Walk in the grass, wiggle my toes in the dirt, stuff like that.

Now, since it was still dark I just put on my spaghetti strap black sheath dress. This weather has my hair looking like a toilet brush (or a large bottle brush, if you prefer a different image.) So there I am, wandering up and down the fenceline, barefoot in black, scrub brush hair sticking out all over, randomly pouring water out of milk jugs, talking to myself, the water, the sky, and the green of summertime.

It's probably a good thing there was no one out, although it would have been delightful if one of my neighbors had come out and lifted the clothes hamper from the bottom of the steps to the porch at the top. One car came down the alley. No one up or down the street. No one was at the The Plane Street Coffee House and Cafe yet. Or at the childcare center. They usually start trickling in about 5:25. 5:20. It felt like I'd been out there an hour. I had planned to type this up while setting (not sitting) on the porch, but I gotta tell you. I sat down twice to catch my breath and slow my heart (and sweat) rate, and they ain't no way I'm staying out there. Hottest 73F I've been out in for a while. I'm getting worried about my trip to the dr Thursday, but at least I'll have some minimal air movement while the car is moving. Worse comes to worse, I can ask my sisters and we can put our heads together and patch together a Plan D. (One sister is plan B and the other is Plan C)

I believe my neighbor(s) have been watering for me, though. Either that or my tightly capped water bottles have sweated themselves back to full.
They are wonderful people, are they not, and I am blessed to have them and grateful for them, believe me.

And 73 degrees with a hot humid hazy headache high-pressure dome is not, I say NOT, a comfortable temperature.

Stay cool.
I'm going to.

Mage, Madrigal, Mama

 For the last couple of months, In between writing bits and pieces of stories, when I've been playing around on Facebook, I've been getting/doing a lot of "off the grid" and "survivalist" items. Some of these have been links to quizzes and such. 

So far the longest I'll survive on my own is about ten days, because I have very few hunter/gathering skills. 

I admit it.

I don't.

And I should. 

I have the knowledge stored somewhere in my being. All my life I have looked at weeds and herbs and known that they can be used for healing and helping, but I can rarely put a name to the plants or have any conscious knowledge of how to use them.

But I  know I know this stuff. Why can't I bring it forth?

In fact, on rare occasion, I have needed, seen something, and used it appropriately in "emergency" situations. Once for fever, once for bleeding. Those were interesting experiences, and I don't remember what I used, for sure. I think it was plantain leaves for the bleeding and some kind of flower (rose? lavender?) for a wash for the fever. Thought about a tea, but the thinking brain said no. Too risky without knowledge to have someone ingest it. 

BUT -- the (non)survivalist in me has a better chance as a member of a tribe, clan, or other grouping. 

The quizzes and skill tests through the computer rank me very high. 

As a wise-woman, as a  story teller, and as a keeper of the flame, able to both hold the old traditions and reach out and embrace the new ideas and ways.

I am mage, madrigal, and Mother. 

I am of great value to my tribe as a GrandMother. 

The funny thing is, this suits me very well. 

I'll keep the kids entertained while others do the hunting/ gathering. 

I'll keep the perpetual pot of perpetual stew over the embers. 

I'll make the coffee!

What really strikes me about these designations, under these situations and circumstances is the acknowledgement that this is a role with importance. In a survival situation, which I will only survive -- for only ten days or so -- because I can build a shelter with a fire near running water, my value is as a bringer of words. 

Somehow, one would think the others would leave me there to dwindle and starve. But according to these different groups, I still have value. Practical value, as I can cook. Maybe not well, but survival level at least. 

But the other values?

There is something somehow reassuring that the ones who create these tests and trials think to put any value on the Mystic and Traditional, and to find worth in song and story.

Or am I reading it all wrong, and this is a polite way of saying "You are worthless. Just stay out of Our Way!"?

"Nobody Warned Us"

There was a (dubious) news report out of Washington State that survivors of the massive landslide were commenting and complaining that they had never been told a landslide could happen.

 I call it dubious, first of all, because those people are still busy looking for loved ones, looking for beloved things.
Secondly, they are in shock and deep, deep grief, so that nothing said at this time should be reported as anything other than mourning. Not responsible journalism. (If such a thing still exists.)
Third, the statement just screams "Lawyer"! Not just lawyer, but the worst kind of lawyer: the ambulance-chasing, you-can-make-me-a-lot-of-money type of lawyer.

God help the survivors, the vultures are already circling, greedy claws extended.

No doubt, eventually, this will make it to the courts as a liability issue. Survivors will be looking to place blame. That's something very human of them.
No doubt some judge somewhere will think it should be heard, in defiance of all common sense.

Some building statements that shouldn't need to be made:
1) If you build on a hill or cliff or anywhere "UP" everything can fall "down."
2) Oceanfront property is susceptible to hurricanes
3)Other waterfront property is susceptible to flooding.
4)There may be water shortages in desert areas.
5)Water shortage areas will be susceptible to fire.
6)Anywhere that lightning strikes there could be fires.
7)Tornadoes can happen anywhere.
8) There is no such thing as "solid" earth.  The earth is liquid -- sometimes water, sometimes melted rock. Even the continents are on the move; afloat.

Just a few things to think about before you buy or build anything anywhere.
It shouldn't require an ambulance chaser, a political prosecutor, or a publicity seeking judge to air foolishness, stupidity, and naivete before the whole world.

Let them heal.
Help them struggle.
Neither money nor blame will replace what they've lost, and lost forever. Don't make them think it might.

I Like Trees.

There are many visual delights, especially in rural living. Many people like to look at clouds, or rivers, or the reflections of clouds in rivers.

Me, I like to look at trees. Okay, I do enjoy looking more if there's water nearby, a nice reflective surface. That way I can see both sides of the tree.
I like their asymmetric symmetry.
I like trees that arrow into the air, pointing, thrusting skyward, ready to penetrate heaven itself.
I like trees that branch out in so many places it looks as if whole spread out hands have thrust themselves through the hard hard ground and are grasping at all the air and all the space they can find.
I like trees that grow into full, fluffy or bushy circles  so that they look like huge green lollipops.
I like trees that burst into bloom to greet the sun as it warms the air.
I like trees that say "good-bye for now; Farewell" with bright blasts of red and gold before they are wrapped in crystals of ice or snow.
I like  trees that stay green year round.

I just like trees.

Trees are strength.
Trees are growth.
Trees give, even when they die.
They shade us, they feed us, they cool us, they warm us.

Trees are always trees, but they are never the same.

What would our lives look like -- or at  -- without trees?