morningambassador’s posthaven

Good day, all. I hope you are feeling a renewed sense of hope that often comes with spring. This is a busy spring for the world, it seems...
Maybe just maybe, it will lead to positive house-cleaning changes for the better, better, best.

Gotta have hope.

I basically wanted to say a cheery, but still-part-asleep, "Good Morning," to everyone - but that's so unrealistic as you might read this at 4:35 some afternoon. Who can say?

Hey, what about that May Day, eh? Although autumn (until we go to the bi-seasonal system) is my favorite time of year, May Day is one of my favorite holidays. Even though there is a "wtf!" factor to it, as you realize, once again it seems, how 'quickly' time moves on along.

Which just made me think of the train scene in "Fried Green Tomatoes" where the two lovely ladies throw food from the train to passing, running-to-keep-up folks from Depression Era shack/tent towns. I know they have a name but I can't think of it right now, and I'm too tired to look it up. Is it "Hovervilles?" I love that movie but just found out to my dismay that I can't watch it these days, as the soundtrack music chosen when it was made brings me right out of the story.

Know what I mean, morning glory?

Too bad, as it's a lovely film I used to be able to watch over.

"The Secret Life of Flowers: Morning Glory" by Alession Guarino

I know I'm just diddling around, journaling to avoid finishing that story... but I do have to go back and finish off the peacock story. (no pun intended ;(  )

Be well. Do good in the world whenever opportunity presents. I'll do the same, or I'd never sugggest it to you.... ;)
(Like you wouldn't think of it by yourself. How condescending of me, I'm thinking...)

And have a great day whilst you're at it.

Ornamental Peacock Giclee

This is the first of 2 parts, for now at least; I got tired... ;)

Once I lived in my absolute dream home for 6 years. Three to five acres... my memory won't clarify, with a river running through it; foothills and cliff behind.  When I knew I had to move out, I started 3 months early, memorizing every part of it so I would always have it with me... and I do.... vividly.

So many diverse environments - someday I'll describe them better: a cathedral of trees at the far end outcropping driving the river toward the hills in a lively curve; three pastures on the house side and a wilding meadow beyond the river. More... at least 100 items of all varieties and species planted by us. A legacy of life.

I felt  like Heidi, gone to the Alps with her grandfather to restore herself and be well and happy when we found that place.

You've heard of buyer's remorse. These owners had seller's remorse, but had to leave.

One time I dug half a pond to about 3 feet down. Never finished all my well-researched plans for it, but it gave me satisfaction nonetheless. Hard work.. that.

So many stories from that period, but I'm aiming for one right now, and it's only pretty til the end.

I don't mean to make anyone feel badly, not even myself. If you're sensitive like me, avert your eyes. I just want to get it down in writing, as it's demanding to be the third story in this wee weird trilogy of tales, one after the other. Again, tragedy equals comedy plus time. Time is passing.

A tidy tidbit - we raised peacocks.... Well we kept them, anyway... eggs never properly hatched....

The evening peacock calls echoing against the Cascade foothills were exquisite, as was the sound of the river, especially as the sun was going down and twilight settling in.

A fact you may not know is that peacocks, especially the males, are more than well-equipped to protect themselves and their mates with sharp talons and beaks. However, for some unknown trick of natural selection, they become completely catatonic in the self-survival department at night. So, even a small nocturnal creature can kill them, should they find them and get to them.

It has to be in two parts, as I cannot write the rest right now, and I'm saving all our sweet thoughts for the night. Daylight is best for the conclusion.

I know there's an element of suspense that seems like it could be manipulative, but I promise it isn't. My intention is not to exploit this situation which was pretty traumatic to me by

a) writing about it at all, and

b) dragging it out this way, but it kept on knocking on my door:

Write me.

Drink me.

Eat me.

I'll play it safe, Alice, and write... tomorrow.

 

So I had no other option but to move home to New Jersey from Washington - the one that has mountains, rainforest, Pacific and all. Family generously took me in when I'd used up all my liquid savings and could no longer sustain a household of my own. Thanks, one and all.

All my friends from school and life - I was a teacher - got together to put on a huge garage sale for me before I left. It helped me get some money together for the trip and whatnot, and I will always be grateful to - and amazed by - them. Beautifully organized as some teachers have that capacity, they made it possible for me to actually get out of there on time as I was already too sick to take care of business myself.  It  truly blew me away.

Two of my dear friends met me at the airport. Me and them and my cat, Jasmine met up in a lovely museum-like area. Continental tm does it up fine there.

Jasmine (the cat) had been given a quarter sedative for the trip as she was always skittish from being dropped off by the side of the road 2-3 mo. old. That would do it to anyone, I think. She was on a long, exploratory lead and could therefore examine the airport displays while we all talked. She gradually got sleepier and sleepier, and eventually was lying in her underneath-plane-seat-sized carrier... just barely awake as I pet her with my 'lots of love.'

Ok - eventually my flight was coming soon, and there was no more of the avoiding goodbyes (for then) to dear friends and beautiful faces... I started walking to the security scanner gate at Sea/Tac Airport... concentrating as if to imprint the faces that gradually became smaller and smaller as I moved off.

I obliviously put the baggage and stuff on the conveyor belt for the x-ray... and waved enthusiastically at my dear ones.

Next thing I know the conveyer belt comes to a screeching halt, what with the whirling yellow lights and the attendent yelling for his mates on other lines to come over and look, laughing and pointing at the screen.

I'm like, "What?" "What is going on here, I'd like to know!"

Turns out I'd put my beloved cat through the machine. And then had to explain in sign language at an impossible distance to my friends how weird and apologetic I was. It must have looked an odd dance.

Then I skulked away. My Grand Bon Voyage.

You should know that Jasmine lived to the age of 16., 7 years past the incident.

I thought maybe it would make a good story some day. And maybe someday it will.

I'm just glad to have written it down.

 

Once upon a time when I was younger by a factor of 10, meaning I was 4-5 years old (just in case you don't feel like the math and just want a quiet read about kids and fairies).

At said Catskills bungalow colony mentioned in a previous post, there were many activities for children - so the adults could play cards or bingo or swim/trifold tan themselves.

Children were arranged into age groups, and set off across the grounds to do 'together' stuff with a leader. Apparently, I used to escape and do my own thing. An early indicator? or a stubborn, misunderstood elle?

Well, I would always slip away while everyone else was excitedly heading sports-fashion in the other direction - of ... my hill and tree.

There was a space under the tree on the hill where I could see - and talk with - fairies. The branches hung down to about a foot or two off the ground.

I know you're just going to laugh, so go ahead. I can't even hear it, but if I  help you cry in the next post, you'll know what I was going for in the literary juxtaposition deptartment.  ;)

They were so beautiful and small, - all 9 or 10 of them - these fairies, and they liked me. I used to lay on my stomach for what would turn out to be hours, listening to their songs and their silence too. I didn't feel alone, and that seemed like such a good thing at that time.

I hadn't yet taken in the full advantage of human interaction by then, so there were gaps in the day when I would need something more. I'd go to the tree.

They never asked anything of me.
They never made fun of me.
They never scolded or hurt me.

We'd just chill to some tunes.

I couldn't really sing like them with my voice... but I was able to carry the tune.

Picture: "A Little More Fairy Dust Please" by Mary Baxter St. Clair

Hello again.

This is the trailer for "Brick," actually one of my top 50  movies.

DISCLAIMER: Please don't watch the trailer if you're under 17 and don't have adult supervision. I've been careful not to put issues out there that might be objectionable... though I do think our young people are a diverse population and have smarts and gifts to offer that it may be hard to remember.

;)

The top critics at rottentomatoes.com give it an 80% fresh, which is not so easy to achieve.

http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/brick/?critic=creamcrop

It's a quirky movie - so if you don't like quirky - you're right out, I'm thinking... but it's like a 40's film noir detective story set in a modern high school with all of those issues.

Well-done trailer. Well-done film. Great performance by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Goofy, kooky, heartfelt, like Veronica Mars (I'm told) meets The Maltese Falcon in color. Hey, I'm allowed to be wrong... like many critics.

Enjoy...

Definitely head on down to this blog post by Clementine.
She has amazing stuff up every day.
I borrowed/linked-back a couple of days ago...
I'm sure I'll do it again...
But I definitely want her to get full props. Always.

http://reflectionof.me/josh-sommers

Be prepared for a possible very slight squeamish factor if you look at this specific entry, but it's high on the interest and cool factors.
Leave off the last tag, and you have her blog site url.

Picture Lake Trail with Huckleberry and Elderberry Bushes, Heather Meadows, Washington, USA" by Jamie and Judy Wild

I love huckleberries... not too too sweet... and tiny so you feel a sense of accomplishment when you pick and eat a handful.

Once upon a time I had the good fortune to live within an hour's range of Mt. Rainier.

But even if it was longer, I would've gone just as often. I definitely didn't take it for granted. It and a college friend and "Here Come the Brides" are the things that brought my imagination - and my body along - to Washington State.

What a gorgeous area, the huge square Mt. Rainier National Park, and every angle and environs around the mountain take in the diversity of nature. From waterfalls and hills of wildflowers to old growth forest with trees old enough to be your greatGREAT grandmother. And so large around... fun to take the circular walk... also plains of snow and ice caves and glaciers...  Oh my!

A dear friend and I used to go to pick huckleberries there. There was this one cool spot we used to go to - on a slant, elevated quite high, with grasses and flowers of some sort anytime but winter as far as the eye could see... sorta - it's a mountain, ok? So you can see pretty far is what I'm aiming at here. There was also the occasional big log plunked down in the perfect spot to sit and rest after one or another phase of the picking cycle.

Huckleberries are beautiful little spritely berries. Not quite sour... easy to pick, but it takes hours to get anything respectable. :)

I remember my friend, N.H., teaching me to stop every so many minutes to shout "Bear!" "Bear!" so they don't accidentally stumble upon you and get... er... surprised.

I have such wonderful memories of the two of us, at slightly different altitudes, shouting "Bear!" and smiling at each other with hearts beating a tiny bit faster, standing on a hill of grass, old logs, and dense flowers, looking around at the gorgeous day and where we were, and being happy.

"Troubled? I’d say less troubled but, you know, sobered by the fact that change in Washington comes slow."
PRESIDENT OBAMA, assessing 100 days in office.    (NY Times/whitehouse flickr)

And then... trying to relax with those glasses on is impossible, says me.

President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama wear 3-D glasses while watching Super Bowl 43, Arizona Cardinals vs. Pittsburgh Steelers, at a Super Bowl Party in the family theater of the White House. Guests included family, friends, staff members and bipartisan members of Congress, 2/1/09.
Official White House Photo by Pete Souza

This gallery contains some of the '15 most amazing mazes and labyrinths' from the dailycongnition.com, "Blog  of Unusual and Funny News Worldwide."

The blog looks very interesting, but if this gallery calls to you at all, check out this link-back as there are wonderfully descriptive captions of each and their history. Worth a look if you like the photog.

http://www.dailycognition.com/index.php/2008/12/24/15-of-the-most-amazing-mazes-and-labyrinths.html

The blog itself can be reached by just clicking 'Home' on that page. Like Dorothy, one can say, "There's no place like home!" and click their feet. The clicking and the three times are extremely important, as you know.

Alright - enough of this topic at the moment... I have a million spinoffs from it - Borges, Argentinian master of the surreal word, other movies, etc.... but I should really get to writing something real afore all my energy goes Ciao, baby.

Hope you like it.... purty grass and all (can't write the obvious pun word that goes before all, for reasons of self-censoring).  ;)

It's amazing how many beautiful sites about labyrinths and mandalas and gardening I found looking for the 'Junk Lady' from "Labyrinth in my last post."

There's a lot more going on out there in these creative - and ancient - areas than, I, certainly, had any clue.

In his style of psychoanalysis, Carl Jung used art - and mandalas specifcally, along with dream work and many other ways of inner 'mining' to help people move forward.

I just know I won't be able to resist, and will have to post - at least - some gallery of the ones done in plant life or stone.

This is a gallery of StarWheels by Aya. He has been working on many more than what I show here for the past 20 years.

The site, linked below, 'says:'

"The StarWheels are a collection of 6' x 6' mandala paintings created and airbrushed on canvas by artist Aya.

These "neo-mandalas" have been envisioned as a harmonic spiral of 12 series of 12 = 144 templates of Light. Since 1985, 108 + StarWheels have been birthed.

The StarWheel Foundation is a non-profit educational organization dedicated to the spiritual & transformational aspects of mandalas."

Thank you for sharing these, Aya. Good luck in your work.

http://www.starwheels.com/starwheels/component/option,com_weblinks/catid,29/Itemid,41/