Author Archives: Lenora Good

What is Going On in Florida?

4 Replies

Weather in the Tries: No triple digits in sight on my phones 10-day forecast. Friday was 103, so just for grins, I bought a cold weather fleece hoody because I know just as surely as Johnny Appleseed invented little green apples, it’s gonna be cold this winter! My gal pal and former travel partner lives just outside of Las Vegas. It’s considerably hotter there. The same day it was 103 here, she had 115 and at 8.30 that night it had cooled to 105.

Years ago, when I worked for a living, one of the Engineers I supported was from the Middle East and he told me about an underground city in the desert. That it was a beautiful city, cool, had water and fountains, but was underground. The desert above it was too hot for comfort. Coober Pedy in Australia is also underground. If we don’t want to change our ways, I think a lot of us are going to have to think of going underground, and figuring out how to grow our food, etc. There are also salt mines that have become underground towns/cities or at least tourist sites.

Vancouver BC has quite a large mall underground. I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to visit (I’m claustrophobic), but it was like going into any large mall topside. It was actually quite pleasant, and there were several places with large skylights for natural lighting. Or there weren’t, we just kept coming around to the same ones from different angles?? Actually, Canada has several such malls, etc., in their larger cities. Or so I’ve been told.

My understanding is that being underground is a pretty fair way of maintaining a constant temperature, I suppose it varies on the location of the city—altitude, type of rock, etc. But I don’t know. I’m truly claustrophobic, and spelunking has never held my interest long enough to try it. I’m okay, until I get to the entrance hole, then I change my mind.

Okay, on to Florida!

What is going on down there? I lived there when JEB was governor, and he certainly didn’t try any of the stuff DuhSantis is doing! I understand a lot of construction isn’t being completed because a lot of the workers left. They no longer feel welcome. Well, duh! Some were undocumented, some were documented, but members of their family weren’t. Pretty soon, the housecleaning staff at the major hotels will be sorely missed, too, when the snow birds fly south for the winter. And now they are rewriting history that slavery taught the slaves usable skills? Was good for them? Reminds me of people I knew when I was a kid that didn’t understand why the slaves even wanted their freedom. After all, they were clothed, fed, had homes in which to live and raise their families, why, they never had it so good! They didn’t believe the history books. They just didn’t believe no one would be as mean, as cruel, as Massa was.

A few years ago, Alabama tried basically the same thing, except the history re-write. The Mexicans (all Spanish speakers are Mexican to them) were taking jobs from decent white boys. The state went after all the “Mexicans,” and you know what? There was nobody to pick the harvest when it was ready. Those “decent white boys” surely didn’t want to stoop and pick cucumbers, tomatoes, strawberries, etc. That’s back-breaking work. And they sure enough weren’t going to pick cotton, but I think that’s mechanical now. Not sure about then. Anyhow, when the harvest rotted in the fields, and those hard-working decent white boys weren’t interested in hard work, but hardly work, the new law was repealed, or at least forgotten, and eventually, the pickers returned. 

Florida is already experiencing the same thing. A lot of their crops are not being picked. Too many crops, too few pickers. 

I think I’d really rather talk about living underground, claustrophobe that I am. I think I could live in Coober Pedy. Not sure I’d want to live in a salt mine, think my food would always taste salty. Salty Caramel might be okay, but salty flan? Although it would be beautiful, I’d rather look for opals in Coober Pedy. There are other underground malls in Canada. Wonder if they have underground hotels, homes, apartments, etc.?

Helsinki has a vast network of almost 10 million square metres of underground spaces and tunnels. Watch the video, it’s fascinating, and up to date. They can hold 150% of current population of Helsinki, and though meant for bunkers/survival, many of the spaces are used today for running, indoor sports, etc.

And now, I’m up, have coffee, and realized it’s Monday and this isn’t yet posted. Sigh. Eventually, I’ll get back to being normal. Or maybe I’ll develop a new normal just for me. Patience, Grasshopper! What will come, will come.

Have a fantastical week. Do good things for others and yourself. Stay cool. Smile. Hard to think depressive thoughts when you’re smiling. Besides, it makes other people what you’re up to.

The Big Chihuahua says he’s ready for some cooler weather for a while. Not a lot cooler, but cool enough the parking lot where he walks isn’t quite so hot. I agree with him.

Cedar Bark Weavings of the Salish Peoples

2 Replies

Weather in the Tries: Hotter than a pepper sprout! ‘Nuff said! 

The people of the Salish Sea wove all sorts of things from cedar bark – baskets, hats, blankets, all sorts of things to use and to wear and to admire.

When I found this pattern in a magazine, which I have not yet unpacked, but which I immediately saw as a Salish Blanket Quilt, I got to work. The white is probably muslin, but could be white quilt fabric. The colors are Batiks.

I got it made before I moved from ABQ, and pinned the front and back together to be a summer quilt. A summer quilt is roughly the same weight as two sheets, no batting between them. Then it got packed. I didn’t find it until last summer, when I decided to finish quilting it. And it broke my heart. I had pinned it with stainless steel quilting pins that were rustproof. Less than 10 percent were rust free. I got them out, I finished the quilting, and I cried. 

One of my SOCs (sisters of choice) who is not only a quilter, but the one who saw too it I was bit by the Quilt Bug, did some research and sent it to me. It seems a lot of work, to rub some vinegar into the rust, wait, rinse, repeat, etc. I put the quilt away. I hauled it out this morning, put it in a tub of vinegar, and took it to Favorite Daughter’s home where I laid it out on the grass for the sun to help bleach. A lot of the rust came out, and I brought it home to work on individual spots on top of the washer. Vinegar, Fels Naphtha soap, and some detergent rubbed in, then washed it and dried it. The drying set any of the rust that didn’t come out, but most did, and what’s left really only shows on the white border on the front. Unless you get really close and look at it. Which none of my friends who love me will do.

Anyhow, it is my Cedar Bark Quilt, and tonight, I will sleep under it, once my room cools enough I need a cover. Our high (Sunday night) was 102F. 

If you go to your search engine and search for Images of Cedar Bark Weaving, there are several sites to show you. Years ago, I had a friend who was an attorney, and he did work for one of the tribes. One of the women who wove hats, gave him one. Most of the hats went to Vancouver BC to be sold, and one day my friend and his wife traveled to BC and on the way home, he put his hat on the dashboard. When he got to Customs, the US Customs guy asked if he had anything to declare. He said no. The guy looked pointedly at the hat, and asked where he bought it, and how much he paid for it. My friend said it was a gift from one of the elders, and named her. The Customs guy grinned from ear to ear and said, “I thought I recognized Granny’s work.”  

This is the quilt laying out in the sun. I left it back side up for an hour, then went out, turned it, and let it dry a bit before bringing it home to finish working on.
This is the quilt on my bed. Look how yellow the lightbulb makes it appear. It’s very simple quilting, a long meandering line down every two inches. Sammy would get up on it, but if I pulled out my phone to take a photo, he’d get down but I’ll get him on it. Honest. Trust me.

Tomorrow (which is really today, as far as you’re concerned and reading this) I start work. I will get up early, feed and walk the dog, and be at my computer at 8am and work through until noon five days a week. It’s the only way I will be able to go through Thomas’s writings, and get things found, edited, etc. I’m just hoping I didn’t lose anything when my computer crashed. I lost a lot of stuff, but was able to find it somewhere. I really don’t know where, but good old Finder found it buried somewhere.

I plan to work 4 hours a morning 5 days a week, until I can figure out what I’m doing. And get some sort of rhythm going.

Do any of you know anything about Substack? Good, bad, or indifferent? Please, let me know. I’m considering it for some of Thomas’s writings.

The Desert Dog says it’s too hot, even for him. But he sends Pupkisses to you all, and hopes it’s cooler where you are. (And if so, can he come visit? He promises he won’t eat much.)

On Having Thomas in My Life

4 Replies

On Tuesday (that would be tomorrow), Thomas will be dead for 5 weeks. I am so fortunate to have had him in my life, and he was so fortunate he maintained his sense of humor until the very end. If all the people who wanted to be there to cheer him on, to wish him well, could have been there, the house would have split at the seams. Literally.

I am reminded of an old blog of mine, where I asked Are You Adoptable? Thomas was not only adoptable, but he was adopted by many people. More women than men, I think, but that’s okay. In fact, it’s not surprising at all. Women liked Thomas. He made us feel important when we were with him, he made us laugh, he brought all the romantic thoughts to the fore. When he was with a woman, he valued her.

When Thomas died, he was not alone—and yet he was. There were close friends there, and many close friends who wanted to be there. People wanted to be with Thomas. He made everyone important. He listened to them. He laughed with them. He was interested in them. But birthing and dying are two of life’s most momentous times, and we must travel that path alone. True, Mom isn’t far away on the former, and loved ones can hold you for the latter, but you still gotta do the heavy part all by yourself alone.

Most, dare I say all, of my good friends are adoptable. They like and love me, and I like and love them. I wish I could say ALL of my friends, but I have a couple of friends who aren’t adoptable. They whine, they are lonely, they are sitting in a corner of their house just waiting to die. That’s what old people do; isn’t it? Just sit in the dark and wait to die. Sigh.

I think I was very lucky when I was in my mid 30s. I went into a deep funk. Really deep. I started reading self-help books, and the two I remember, that really helped me was My Mother/My Self by Nancy Friday and another one the name of which eludes me, as does the author, but on the cover was a girl with her arms in the air, and she was happy. I did the exercises, well, most of them. The primal scream I didn’t. But I realized, I really had to change. Of course, the big thing that scared me no end about the self-help books is once I got to know myself, well, what if I didn’t like myself? That’s a scary thought, or at least it was for me. | Today is Friday, but my friend, Meg just gave me the title of the second book I couldn’t remember: Born to Win. Marvelous book, and marvelous friends.|

But I figured I really needed to do something, so I did it. And I figured out I was pretty okay, just needed some tweaking here and there. I became happier, I complained less, in effect, without realizing it, I became adoptable. It was a long road, but I had friends who saw the end much clearer than I, and they helped and encouraged, and ya know what? It is a process, and it’s ongoing. I figure as long as I have questions, I can still search out the answers. 

Thomas and I had several discussions about what happens when we die? Nobody knows. People of faith are sure theyknow and they will go to their heaven to be with their God. Far be it from me to tell them otherwise. If it makes their dying easier, by all means they should believe it. I waffle. Since no one has come back with irrefutable proof of life after life, I figure my ideas are as good as anyone else’s. When Mole asked Raven Roshi what happens at the moment of death, Raven Roshi thought then said, “I give away all my belongings.” (From Zen Master Raven, sayings and doings of a wise bird, by Robert Aitken.) At the moment of death we give away all our clothes, our books, our computers, our wants, our desires, our anger, our love—we give them all away. We no longer need or want them.

As I said, I waffle. I hope my Ancestors will call me to them. But I really hope Schrodinger had it right, that we are on this planet both alive and dead until (God?) observed and we must decide. If dead, do we slide into another universe? Do we just die, everything goes dark, and that’s it? Buddhists believe in reincarnation. I’d like that if I can come back as a spoiled lap cat!

Will I see my family again, Thomas again? I don’t know. I can hope, I suppose I could have faith, but I won’t have proof until I’m dead. And then it won’t really matter, because I won’t be able to come back and tell any of you about my last adventure. Bummer. And I’d so like to share with y’all.

I only had Thomas in my life for about 5 years, but I am so fortunate to have had those years, and to have been introduced to some of his friends and family, so we can all keep him in our lives when we get together. I can truly say I am a better person for having him in my life. I have deleted his email from my contact list, but not his name. As long as he is remembered by someone, he isn’t truly gone. I’m still keeping my EBOC in my computer, as well as my heart.

If you missed my earlier blog, “Are You Adoptable?” or have forgotten it, and would like to read it, drop me a note and I’ll send you a copy.

Addendum: I wrote this over a week ago, then my hard drive crashed. I mistakenly thought my computer had suffered the lonesome blues while I was gone so long and had invited some outlaw bikers in to keep her company, and the not only trashed the place, but left her full of viruses, malwares and a trojan or two. Now, I have apologized hugely, because she was merely trying to keep the hard drive from dying. One needs to treat their computers nicely. It looks like the only thing I lost of great import is all my passwords. Oh, well…

Anyhow I have her back, and today is Tuesday, the 11th of July. On Sunday, the 9th, I was back on the Dark Side for the Celebration of Life we held for Thomas. It was beautiful. The sun came out, it was warm, and 50 people were there. I will post a couple of readings in the Spoken Word later today, or possibly tomorrow. As soon as I can remember how. 😉 And postings should begin, again, on Mondays.

This was the wine. The beer was in a washtub and a cooler or two, all filled with ice. Do you see the little ceramic shot glasses in the basket at the upper left corner? Those were made by Sheryl’s sister, Lori, who is a potter. She made 50. And the bottle of booze next to the wine is a bottle of Bullet Rye. When everyone had finished telling their Thomas Tales, we all got a shot glass, a shot of Rye, and toasted Thomas. The shot glass then went home with us. Thanks Lori for the wonderful memento, and thanks Sheryl for giving Thomas a beautiful place to live out his remaining time. I am so grateful to have met you, and Lori, and Matthew, Andrew, Olga, all the kids, two-legged and four-legged, and to have been so lovingly accepted by all.

Some of the people who came. They are looking forward to someone who is speaking. I am standing in the back, the short one with a black tee that says Metaphors Be With You that I bought in honor of Thomas, and holding the poem he wrote the morning after his sister, Sally, died. I managed to get through it and sit before I lost it. Photo is by: MarySue Finley

An elephant ear (baby, still growing) and a huge drop of water, either from a bit of rain, dew, or sprinkler. Not sure which. Probably a good tablespoon of water. It’s growing in MarySue’s yard.

Thanks for your patience, and hugs all around.

Happy Fourth!

4 Replies

Hey! You all have a happy Fourth!! Picnic, use sun block, drink lots of water (beer doesn’t count), and Auntie Lenora will return as soon as her computer is back from the hospital. Yes, she had to take her computer to the ER on Friday. Seems like she got lonesome while Auntie Lenora was gone, and invited a bunch of outlaw internet bikers over to party and they left her with several mal ware, viruses, and even a Trojan or two, and sugar in her gas tank.

Didja notice I’m late today? Not by Design

2 Replies

Yesterday, Sunday, I drove half-way to one of Thomas’s nieces, to deliver his flute (carved wood), flute bag (handmade and beautifully beaded), and a painting of a sea turtle. Turns out it was her mom who did the beading (took her a year) and the painting. She told me many delightful stories of her Uncle Thomas.

Well, you know where my mind, what there is of it, went. A few tears on the way home, made it just in time for my 4pm Poetry Apocalypse zoom gathering, and any thoughts of a blog entry were gone. Poof! Which is really too bad because I had something fun to write about. Besides me.

I am, however, binging on Ted Lasso, 3 episodes a night. Thomas and Sheryl watched a lot of tv—movies and series—it was one way for Thomas to get his mind off his situation. I have a few months’ worth of same to review and get posted, Our two favorites were The Great on Hulu and Ted Lasso on Disney. The Great is an “occasionally true story” of Catherine the Great. One of the best series I’ve ever seen, however, they are serious when they say it’s for mature audiences. It’s is full of the f-bomb and c-word, but they fit, they are not gratuitous. We finished that series before Thomas died. The other series they watched was Ted Lasso. I came in at the beginning of S3, saw most of it (Disney didn’t dump the whole series, but parsed it out weekly, and I only saw up to the S3, E4 or 5). So, I came home, took my 3 months of Free Disney, and have started at S1, E1. I’m now into S2, E6. Surprise, surprise, that one has a few f-bombs, too. Why am I surprised? It’s a Disney show. Again, they work, and are not gratuitous. Ted Lasso is an American Football Coach who goes to England to coach European Football (soccer). He was brought on to run the team into the ground as payback from the ex-wife who got the team in the divorce and wants to hurt her ex. She forgot to tell him that, and he takes it in the other direction. Well worth the fun, like The Great, it’s a 3-season show.

My desk is a pile and a half of papers, etc. My housemate is threatening a bonfire (not really, he understands), and, the best news of all—my sewing “room” is almost put together. Need to get the sewing room finished today, then tackle my part of the office.

So, for now, your old Auntie Lenora is signing off. The normal schedule will be back soon. I hope.

Here’s a photo from yesterday, note the number of adult geese and juveniles? The will put several families together and the adults watch over them, herd them in the right directions, and protect them. Ducks aren’t that smart. Ducks do NOT like the offspring of any other duck, and if a little duckling gets lost or separated, and tries to join another group, the hen will attack it with the idea of running it off, or killing it, whichever comes first. They are not interested in protecting or helping any other flock. Also, I think the ganders help in the parenting, the drakes don’t.