NOTE~ Yes, I know this is a lot of photographs. It is my way of telling this story.
Yes, I know this is a depressing story, but it is mine of late and it is also my blog.
You may go away now if this is not of interest to you.
(I say with understanding and kindness, as I get it)
This is me having to get this off my chest in one way I know how.
I have always said, and will repeat:
I treasure each and every one of my blogland peeps.
You guys are true, salt-of-the-earth people.
You engage, challenge, and lift me in ways you may never fully know.
You accept and love me in ways I deeply appreciate.
So, thank you for all of that.
Mavis Staples ft. Ben Harper - Change
Hazel's comment on a recent post of mine...
Michelle's use of the word 'weary'...
Liz and Jude...going...
Mo's providing Moon beauty...
~all prompts for me to record some of my own recent feelings, as best I can~
They are not pretty
|Daily drive, landfill on the left|
|Pretty good shape!|
|3 Turtles keep me company|
There is a little two year old at work who has been discovering
Sometimes it is water or soap. Sometimes it is a particular kind of toy or sand.
Sometimes it is the noises around him.
"Too Much!" he says.
There is too much politics, unrest, unkindness, illness, arguing,
bitterness, threats of violence and violence itself.
There is too much imbalance of powers, poverty, homelessness,
Too Much cages and babies taken from their families.
Too many lost or broken or both.
Too much negative.
Too much heavy.
Too much change, of not the good kind.
I tried to sleep and this phrase keep popping into my head:
frying pan, frying pan
little man in a frying pan
burn his feet, ain't that neat?
falls to seat, ain't that fun?
little man can't even run
I even drew #littleman
My heart breaks for the #littleman, trying to survive, trying to get by.
There are too many stories...
in the news, from those I know...deep in hearts (mine included).
(I drew that too)
Barely able to see the story patches, I've been wearing lately.
The weight is astounding.
I keep looking for the light.
I'm usually pretty good at finding slivers of light.
Teeny glimmers are all that have appeared.
A couple of work changes, reversed - improved upon...
a cause for guarded relief and begrudged gratefulness.
This song above, heard on my commute,
a slice of rebellious, stomping foot in place calling out ENOUGH.
Demanding CHANGE! (The good kind of course!)
|Nice trees, work car?|
Sometimes I consider that I could drive a different,
less in your face route to work.
But, I would not forget all #somefolks are still out there,
with me just on a less upsetting road.
If this was the only 'news', maybe I would consider that.
But, to me it is merely a sign of these times.
There is so, so much more.
These non-mobile mobile homes are filled with men, women, pet dogs
bicycles, ATVs, dirt, dust and grime.
Broken bits of furniture, car parts and trash.
They have folks that sweep the sidewalk or don't,
work on their vehicles and go off for the day (to work?)
There are tarps. Lots of tarps that cover the roofs, broken windows
(there seems to be lots of those too) and spaces between their home
and a nearby wall or fence (AKA shade tarps).
This is but one short stretch of road where the mobile live.
In my car, my own home away from home, on my lunch break
I manage to sort bags of buttons.
Dividing my collection by about half.
Because who needs so many buttons anyway?
I sort and search.
I seek to find.
I haven't been weaving or stitching the past few weeks.
Or letter writing, although I've got a mental list going for that!
I make life decisions phone calls from my car.
The kind of phone calls no one really likes to make.
Then I make the return trip.
At night, in bed I read little novels.
Escape books, for enjoyment and to get tired enough and to ward off dreams.
I've read some fair, good or great books.
I'll read BURN next. I am part way through A MAN CALLED OVE.
I have finished the others and they are back at the library,
so someone else may enjoy them.
CALLING MAJOR TOM was a fun one to read with all the celebratory remembering of the Moon Landing going on right now. He actually is on his way to Mars, but there is lots of Space Oddity tie-ins and such! BRITT-MARIE WAS HERE and A MAN CALLED OVE are both by the author whose book I read first: MY GRANDMOTHER TOLD ME TO TELL YOU SHE'S SORRY. He has a very unique way of phrasing and word choice. One of those authors I find myself thinking in their style.
I try to stay off the news these days.
I return to continue and/or consider FB and it's vile owners/operators.
I try to let the unkind comments and some of the stories go.
I would love to walk again, but the air quality and my asthma say "NO WAY!"
I look for new tools in this old toolbox.
|TV game shows in the toolbox!|
And, as you guys know,
I guess I wouldn't be me if I didn't keep trying to circle back around
to some kind of light and love.
It'll get easier.
It always does.
It's just taking a while this time.
|Work parking lot heart leaf!|
May you get through your hard times,
enjoy your better times and
try to always remember love.
Photographs by NAE ©2019
Photographs by NAE ©2019