The quote below is a slightly cleaned up set of pages that I sent to myself on
Thursday morning, from the kitchen. I was home in the morning before going to
work, which was unusual. Usually, I am out the door by 6:30 on my way to the
YWCA. But I was home to see Liam off to his school bus, since Dorothea had
left to go up to Bemidji to attend at a birth for her sister Monica. (I am
having some trouble with this expression, since it sounds to me like what I am
saying is that Monica is being born, which isn’t true. Or is it?)
So, heaps upon heaps, we are going through some special times. First, Yuna is
staying with us. Next, Elkam’s house has a fire, and she need a place to
stay–which is with us, with is neato, but our headcount is now seven
(including the dog) and then Dorothea leaves suddenly and returns a few days
later totally wiped out. Liam leaves for Lac du Bois for the French camp and
Yuna leaves for Red Lake for ice fishing. Plus, temps are below zero, and
that’s hasn’t happened for awhile.
blender on the counter glass of orange juice syrup bottle no clean bowls
ibuprofen on the kitchen floor dog water dish empty that is a bottom line
cruel inhuman just yuck people need to do more
ordinary time maybe catholics have that one right long stretches of time where
nothing special happens and then there are these intense times house fire
birth and this is easy compared to what can be
Last night, I watched The Manchurian Candidate on
(which has become my favorite movie channel). I have of late been remiss and
reluctant to sit down and blog. The sense of inertia has been great. But I
just got done googling the movie title, wondering, and not being sure, when it
was made. If it was made in 1964, that would be one. If it was made before
1963, that would be quite another. 1962. The book was published in 1959.
I had never seen the whole movie. I knew it was difficult. Dorothea had agreed
to watch it with me. She made it to the first shooting, and left. The
children, including a school friend of Madeline’s and now neighbor, were
downstairs watching DVDs of episodes of the
The OC. So I brought the
old, portable TV up, plugged it in to the cable extension that usually lays
coiled up under the couch, and set it on a chair. The movie was from 1962, the
couch from 2000, the TV from 1989, the chair from 1936.
The parallel that I draw is between the movie’s line, delivered by the Angela
Lansbury character, something to the effect that the security state that will
come into being will make that would make
law seem like
on the book refers to the
–McCarthyism. I suppose that the first Red Scare is that after the First
Continue reading The Manchurian Candidate
I added Yuna’s blog to the blogroll. It is snowing, substantially, first since New Year’s Eve, first time this year. Went to the 11:00 am meeting with the intention of getting books for the Quakerism 101 class that runs for seven Thursdays, starting this week. Dorothea is taking the class too. I am near finishing the second Eragon book. Interested in the few presented that everything has a soul, but that the soul dies with the body. Also, the Tai Chi-like exercise that he does, as well as the meditation. The mediation tends towards the telepathic and the magical. When the Eragon is meditating, he communicating with the minds of other beings, down to the level of ants. This seems different than the few that I have of meditating, which is silence. His would be a meditation of cacaphony by comparison. But it brings to mind some comparisons. One is of the “mind” as I recall it mention in the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. Also of the Quakers and the “light.” It seems like the “mind” and “light” are sort of like a communications “bus” like an Ethernet network. Seems like a a recursive thing? When I am meditating, and “lose” or “get out” of my mind, I am joining some sort of universal existence, consciousness, something like that. Well, so much for that. I am trying to formulate something though. But while I am trying to figure that out, here is a snippet of an email that I sent in reference to a class presentation that Dorothea did. She needed to present an anticedote. She chose to talk about her Burmese refugee friend, former elephant owner, and newly learning to drive.
Dorothea told me about her visiting a refugee friend of hers yesterday. The woman is from Burma. She lived for a long time in a refugee camp in Thailand, where she was a midwife. Now she works as a CA in a nursing home, nights, in Saint Paul. Last spring, Dorothea took her to a cemetery to teach her how to drive. Yesterday, somewhere by the U of M, they practiced parallel parking. Afterward, they went to a Vietnamese restaraunt on University and had some pho. This woman, before the refugee camp thing, when she lived in Burma, she had an elephant. Over pho, Dorothea asked her if she bought her elephant. Oh no, she said, that would have been too expensive. She went out into the forest with other people and captured the elephant by enticing it into a big pit. Dorothea is going to use this as an ancedote for her current class. I think that should be pretty good. Like–if you can go out into the jungle, trap, train, and own an elephant, you can learn how to parallel park. For sure.
Went to Groveland Tap for a beer after work. Dorothea is at the first night of her class. I got down another photo album and continue to scan. Tonight:
Liam and I blowing out candles on the cake for my forty-second birthday. I know it was my forty-second because there is a very similar picture of Celine, and we have the same birthday. It was when I was 42 that she was staying with us.
Standing in a canola field in Manitoba. We were on our way to the Winnipeg Folk Festival. Not sure what year it was. About 2001 or so. That was the trip that we got stopped on the way back into the U.S. and they tossed the minivan and found a baggie with two Drum hand rolled cigarettes that Dorothea had gotten for me. Fun.
Building the fort in the backyard with Tomas. That thing began with Christopher, almost right away after we moved here. The privacy fence between our two backyards was partially blown down, and he first offered to take it down for us, and then built the first floor of the fort with the scrap. No question but that it was amazing. Here, Tomas came over and helped add a second story. My memory is that Christopher had built it with a roof, and that was taken off. I always had mixed feelings about the structure, at best. There was a big fight because I didn’t want to participate in the second round of construction. I was also concerned about exposed nail ends, and kids falling off, falling through the second-story floor, off the ladder. The fort went away when we tore down the metal shed to make way for the new shed.
Liam in the flowers. These flowers were in the front of Tomas’ house on Dayton Avenue. Made for a great picture, as the flowers were almost bigger than he was. This must have bee in the summer of 1998, when I moved down to the Twin Cities.
Uploading pictures to Flickr. That’s is what I have been doing with my New Year. Rifling through photo albums and photo envelops, scanning, and, as I have been going along, getting a little bit more savvy and color correcting them, and posting them on Flickr. (“Auto Improve” is what the photo program calls it.) Definitely feeling sentimental. I especially like what Flickr calls its “badge” which lets me have the three random photos across the top.
On New Year’s Eve night, it finally snowed here. We got about an inch. In the morning, Dorothea and I went down to Crosby Farm and cross country skied. There was barely enough snow. But it was comfortably warm, and pretty, especially down by the river, which is not frozen, of course.
Dorothea’s working. She want to save money to go on a trip. Madeline is at a sleepover. Liam and I ordered pizza and watched goofy new comedy sitcoms on TV. That’s all for now. Goodnight, blog.