Every time I leave this blog for a few days I have “trouble” re-entering. Part of me wants to continue, another part wants to change what I’m doing, and yet another part of me wonders what it’s all about anyway, and what the frick am I doing, spending hours of every day commenting on what appears to be happening — or not, both here and elsewhere?
Geez! I notice that while I was out of town U.S. warmongers shot off not one, but two! Trident missiles off the coast of California, in full view of everyone. No doubt to show China who’s still boss. I sure don’t miss that kind of intensely dangerous, WWIII posturing when I’m off the internet. So much better to be just walking the trails of Oakwood with puppy Shadow, happy in the early morning.
And meanwhile, life goes on here, onrushing life. In fact, our weekly Community Dinner is tonight, and it’s to be Greek! I forgot to chalk in my contribution, stuffed grape leaves. Still need to get the store. Hmmm. Should I also pick up ouzo?
All summer long and through the first week of November, we were able to hold our weekly dinners on the back patio but now that the world’s turned blustery, that place looks pretty forlorn —
— and we’re resigned to the idea of holding events inside. However, since the buzz around our dinners continues to expand, it looks like not only will we have to go inside, but we might have to either change to this larger house from that one, or else have the crowd (we expect at least 15 this evening) flow from one to the other and back again.
Hmmm. Does this mean this house will have to be clean every Thursday? Brie, Katarina and I all tend to be somewhat sloppy, so that’s a stretch.
Such are the silly concerns of this one woman in this one town in this one state in this one country on this one planet in this one swirling cosmos. Meanwhile, I like the way Zen Gardner speaks up to both those who would stay in denial (of the critical, many-layered geopolitical drama being waged without our consent) and those who would give up, saying there’s no “hope” — that extinction, or nuclear war, or apocalypse of some kind is a done deal.
Yep. No doubt about it. We need to keep projecting our intensely alive creative energy into the void created by both old crumbling structures and by those who would just sit around lazily, waiting for The End.
Why? So they can say, smugly, “I told you so”? Ye goddesses, what’s that about.