Chattering-Magpie-blog
One fewer card.
This year I bought one fewer Mother’s Day card. In past years I’ve done five: my mom, E’s mother, my aunt Vi, Dad’s wife, and my birthmother.
I almost didn’t get them out in the mail. The secretary where we store stamps, my address book, and my calligraphy pen was stuck shut. E managed to get it open, with strict instructions to me to not lock it shut again. Still, the cards went out late.
I think I’m supposed to be feeling something, since this is my first Mother’s Day without my mother, but, not so much. I just don’t miss her all that much. We weren’t on the best of terms most of my adult life. I don’t miss her, I miss the person I wish she had been. I wish she could have been a happier person.
For his mother, E is preparing an eggplant moussaka that we will bring to her house and serve to the family. I made a blackberry pie.
Usually we have irises by this time of year, but it’s been so cold.
Kung-Fu-Diary
Badges of honor.
At least I’m making it to advanced class one Saturday a month. It feels so good to get a workout in the morning. Makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.
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Our first Netflix.
I’m so excited. Tonight we watch our first Netflix movie.
We’re so behind the times. Everyone I know has Netflix. My uncle Bill who is almost 80 has Netflix. I just wasn’t sure that we would watch enough movies to make it worth it. If we spent a lot of time at the video store, it would totally make sense.
I’m starting out slow with their cheapest service: $5/month, 2 movies a month, one at a time.
Chattering-Magpie-blog
Through the woods and out the other side.
My Great-Uncle Harry died yesterday late afternoon at the age of 95. He was blessed with a sound mind right up to the end. Only his body has failed him, gradually and surely.
The long-legged man who spent his adulthood tramping through the woods as a timber cruiser for Crown Zellerbach could no longer move about without a wheelchair. His preternaturally brown hair turned slowly to gray only in the last ten years.
E and I alway made sure to visit Harry when we went to the coast. We took him to lunch at his favorite restaurant where he had one of his favorite meals: oyster stew and hot chocolate. This always brought out the story of the man who rented an oyster bed, borrowed a boat to check on them and ended up getting stuck in the mud.
Harry would tell us stories from when he was a boy, growing up on the farm when there was only the river for transportation. And he kept us up-to-date on the local controversy over the planned development of a liquid natural gas storage facility.
Afterwards we would take a drive through the country. Once we went all the way to Saddle Mountain. Harry couldn’t walk well at that time, but back in the day he could hike up and down the mountain without breaking a sweat. He told us about the spring at the top of the mountain. Scientists had no explanation for it, he said; it was evidence of God.
Harry was the most religious person we knew who did not go to church. He like the preaching of Rev. Billy Graham. One Christmas I gave Harry and Aunt Helen, who was still living then, a “boom box” so they could listen to a casette tape they had received in return for sending money to the Billy Graham ministry.
Harry was the last of his generation in my family. Even of my dad’s generation there are only a few members remaining. Not very many people to call with the news. I don’t know whether we’ll have a service, but if we do it will be small. Harry will be cremated and his ashes interred with Aunt Helen, in our family plot on the hill, looking out over the tidelands and the river.
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Chattering-Magpie-blog
The long way home.
My mother’s ashes were distributed and interred months ago. We finally have her memorial marker in place, between the stones for her parents and her sister (still living).
I selected the rose because her mother Gladys, has gladiolus and her sister Violet has violets. I don’t know that my mother had a favorite flower, but I think she liked roses.
The ace of spade represents her nearly lifelong passion for the game of bridge. When we were sitting at the Granite Works, trying to figure out what to put on the marker, I remembered one of my friends plays bridge. I called her on the cell and was lucky enough to catch her so I could ask how best to commemorate a bridge player.
I don’t really know whether Mom would appreciate having a memorial marker. I know she would have said to not do it and it would probably make her angry to know that I did it anyway. But I didn’t do it for her. I did it for those of us who are still here, who thought it would be a shame for her to just vanish without something to say she was on this earth.
I would hope that she would be secretly pleased, but I can never know.
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Magpie-Knits
Craftsman jacket
This is dreadfully slow going. I’ve got the cuffs for the sleeves done in a shiny nylon ribbon that unfortunately is prone to snagging.
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Two in a row.
Yay me, I went to the gym two mornings in a row. Maybe I’ll even make it three mornings in a row if I go tomorrow as well.
Yes, I have this really cool commuter bike and yes, we have enough daylight to commute. But I also have this laptop computer that I am lugging back and forth between work and home every day.
I’ve considered a backpack or saddlebag, but I’m just not comfortable with that. I’m responsible for a sensitive piece of electronic equipment. What happens if I fall or get in an accident?
Chattering-Magpie-blog
New cat toy.
Somewhere there is a squirrel running around without its tail. Actually it’s probably dead. Squirrels don’t last long without their tails.
We let the cats out to play yesterday. Rufus came running back in with his new toy: a squirrel tail. He was so proud and happy. I took it away from him and threw it back outside. Within the hour he had brought it back in.
What’s the worse that can happen? I figure the biomatter will just dry up.
Kung-Fu-Diary
It's not kung fu if I don't get gimped up.
Due to a wicked work schedule, I’ve been out of training for several weeks. I was able to get to a Saturday sparring class at our sister school only just this week. Wouldn’t you know it, I manage to get myself gimped up.
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You're dead and I can't help it.
Another dream of my mother. This time she is up and about, doing household chores. She looks good, really. My Aunt Vi is there, too.
I finally have to tell her, there’s nothing I could have done to have kept her from dying.
This makes Mom angry. She takes it to mean that I wanted her to die. Vi tries to defend me which only makes Mom angrier and she orders Vi out of the room.
Nothing is changed in my dreams. It’s the same patterns as in life.
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