It’s been another week in the time of Corona, and let me pay my brief respects to US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who died September 18, 2020, of complications from metastatic pancreatic cancer, according to National Public Radio. She was an icon for many, and is known for working through three broken ribs, gallbladder treatment and cancer during the last two years. An amazing woman, an amazing fighter, and an American heroine and role-model.
I can feel the grief from over here. People on Twitter barely could speak of her death and the causes, and my timeline was littered with cryptic profanity and little anecdotes of short and supreme sweetness. The Americans often did not say her name; they assumed we all knew. Rest in power, rest in peace, RBG.
People elsewhere in the world are also having a rough week, so I’m going to show another Rain Meditation from our farm in Japan. This was taken Friday morning. One of the five stray cats shows up in the beginning. Don’t get invested – Tabby leaves around the 10-second mark. There’s nothing to do, nothing to think. Just take care of yourself and breathe for one short minute, then go out and be kind to one another. What are you grateful for this week? Please leave some gratitude in the comments.
It’s been a rough and rocky week — not so much for me personally, but for the people around me, and in the news, and on social media. So, here’s a nice one-minute video of cool, soothing rain on a Japanese farm . . . with guest voice cameo by Greebo, the cat.
Rain on a Japanese farm — a meditation. With Greebo doing a voiceover at the 0:17 mark. Only one minute of peaceful rain — enough to calm your mind and let ideas float to the top. (E.M. Duskova) Flowers: Blue salvia, red salvia, dusty miller. Begonias near the greenhouse in the background. Bees keep flitting, even through the pouring rain.
Greebo, during sunnier days. (E.M. Duskova)
Greebo is a Grumpy-cat mix. He’s mostly black with a few orange markings that look like battle scars from a former life. He isn’t afraid of people, but he has no use for them unless they come bearing saucers of milk. (I know this because Auntie gives him a dish of scalded milk every morning, and he’ll let her pet him. Everyone else, he hisses at, then stalks away. Not runs. Stalks, with great dignity and he’s so affronted that you dared to approach him without a tribute for the conqueror.)
They say there are only two stories in the world: someone leaves home, or a stranger comes to town. I wonder what would happen if Greebo, anthropomorphized, showed up in my fictional town . . . .
Well, last week was a bust as far as my priming experiment. I provided a word search Saturday with special words meant to prompt my subconscious into a writing mood . . . but, you know. It was busy. I was tired. I don’t have a story that urgently needs to get written down. And, on the happy side, my daughter and son-in-law are visiting! I’d rather have a nice dinner and chat with them instead of holing away and writing.
So, today, I give you the answers Continue reading
“Oh, my darling one!” via Wikimedia Commons
Human behavior is old. I mean, really old. I mean, really, really old. Many of the things we do as people are actually older than humanity itself.
My day job is teaching in elementary and junior high, and I used to be quite worried about the scenes of aggression I’d see in the hall during breaks. Usually they involved boys, usually pinning each other to the floor, or goosing each other repetitively. I grew up in a two-girl household, and tried to avoid those rambunctious boys during my childhood, so it really bothered me.
And then we got puppies. Continue reading