Camellias

When we built our home, we planted camellias. One was planted in front of our kitchen window. The other was planted in front of the fence running between our home and the barn next to it.

Camellias bloom in cold weather. I took the photos above on November 22. Both plantings are in full bloom and have been for the last several weeks.

We experienced our first freeze of the season in the beginning of November. The camellias survived and thrived. When winter fully sets in and we experience prolonged below freezing temperatures, the camellias will succumb.

I'll be 80 in a few more weeks. I have no idea how long I'll live - it could be decades - it could be minutes. I'm clearly in the winter of my life.

Like the camellias, I'm still in bloom. My health is good but I'm no longer a young man. I clearly have peaked. Staying in the metaphor, eventually a deep, prolonged frost will do me in. Either that, or some unexpected event at any time.

Until that time, I persevere. I remain useful. Kathy, Zoey and Zach appreciate me. Some people I interact with appreciate me as well.

My grand adventures are behind me. I'm not always sure what to make of them, but when I share them, other people often find meaning in them.

You can bloom at any age. If you live long enough you can continue to bloom in your old age.

In 1973, Yogi Berra commented, "It ain't over till it's over." as the baseball season was drawing to a close. His team went on to win the National League pennant race.

Although the Mets fell to the Oakland Athletics in the 1973 World Series, they got to play the entire season. They weren't spectators at any time during that season; they were players, even contenders.

Yogi is my favorite sports person. At the moment, I can't think of anyone else in that regard.

So here I am, contemplating camellias and mortality, and Yogi Berra pops into my consciousness.

It's up to you whether you derive meaning from your life. You need to come up with your own standards and expectations.

It's also up to you to derive meaning from what you learn of other people's experiences. There's meaning in everyone's life.

Take time to smell the roses. Take time to appreciate what's right there in front of you. Be open to sharing.

Aimee Bender

I'm reading Aimee Bender's books. I get them from the library.

I've finished: An Invisible Sign of My Own; The Butterfly Lampshade; The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake; and The Girl In The Flammable Skirt.

I've also watched the movie "An Invisible Sign" which is based upon An Invisible Sign of My Own. Pamela Falk and Michael Ellis wrote the screenplay. Jessica Alba plays Mona Gray.

The movie was wonderful. The writing was excellent. The actors were all great. It served as my motivation to begin reading Aimee's books.

An Invisible Sign of My Own was better than the movie. I would not have thought that possible, but it was.

The Girl In The Flammable Skirt is a book of short stories. The others are all novels.

Until a short time ago, I'd never heard of Aimee Bender. Now I'm reading her works as fast as the Milton Public Library can get them in.

It's been a long time since I've been motivated to read all the works of a particular author. It's also been a long time since I allowed fiction to dominate my reading.

I'm here to share my experiences with others. In this case, I'm here to urge you to discover Aimee Bender for yourselves.

Toward that end, let me say this, "I thoroughly enjoy Aimee's writings. I'm partial to her novels."

If my words haven't sent you running out to read these books and watch that movie, I'm truly sorry - sorry for you.

I have yet to read: Willful Creatures; The Third Elevator; and The Color Master. They're all on my list.

No Soup For Me

I enjoy good soup. I'm not talking about canned soup. I'm talking about either homemade soup or soup made from scratch by a chef who is making real, honest to goodness, homemade soup.

Kathy is with me on this. We both know great soup when we come across it. We used to travel to Chestertown, Maryland just to have crab bisque at the Wharf. The crab bisque was great. It was served with a small beaker of sherry for those who desired to add sherry to their soup.

Adding sherry to soup is not for every soup.

The Wharf sunk in a storm and we stopped going to Chestertown.

Earlier this month, Kathy had a booth at our senior center's annual craft show. You could buy homemade soup that was donated by members. We bought a quart of mushroom soup. It was wonderful. It also had sherry mixed in.

Kathy chose the soup from a long list of soups. The list had the soups and the names of the people who made the soups posted on the public bulletin board in the main room.

Kathy chose the mushroom soup without any particular expectations. She certainly didn't expect the soup to have sherry in it.

The next day Kathy heated the soup up and we had it for lunch. This was on a Sunday, and the center was closed. It wouldn't be open again until Monday.

On Monday, Kathy went to see if she could buy more soup. The soups were sold out. She asked for the name of the person who made the mushroom soup and they wouldn't give it to her.

On Tuesday, I went to the center to renew our memberships and find out what I could about the soup maker. I told them I would like to either buy more soup or obtain the recipe.

They refused to provide me with the name of the soup maker citing soup maker confidentiality. I asked why they had posted the names of the soup makers on the public bulletin board on the day of the show if there was a confidentiality issue involved.

This resulted in 2 more women coming and standing beside the woman I was talking to. They were a formidable trio. I believe all of these women were paid staff.

My next question sent them all into a tizzy. I pointed out that the membership applications I had just submitted had required us to sign a release so that the center could use our names and pictures and whatever for promotional purposes. I asked if this didn't contradict the soup maker confidentiality claim.

The lady I had originally asked help from said that in all her years, she had never heard of a request such as mine. I pointed out that before retiring, I had been a therapist and was familiar with the concept of confidentiality.

The cauldron was starting to bubble for sure.

In desperation, I asked could they please contact the soup maker and let her/him know someone so loved the soup that they wanted to either buy more or see about getting the recipe. That was it.

That was the proverbial straw for these ladies. I was told emphatically that they would not reveal the name of the soup maker and that they would not even try to contact the soup maker and let the soup maker decide for her/his self.

I left.

Next year if they have the craft show and the soup maker donates soup and if they post the soup maker's name on the bulletin board, I will make sure to make a note of the name and try again on my own to reach the soup maker.

There was something very déjà vu about all this.

Words And Numbers

Words have no meanings other than those we ascribe to them at the moment we experience them. By themselves, they're just marks drawn or sounds.

The same holds true for numbers. They only have the meaning we give them.

There's no objectivity. Believing in objectivity is delusional.

When we communicate with others, it's only because we agree on the meanings of the words and numbers we use. Even then, it's an iffy process. We don't really know if there's agreement. Believing in agreement is an act of faith.

How many people have engaged in violence based upon words?

*****

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

*****

I often stare out the window at the bird feeders outside. There are 2 of them. One is filled with sunflower seeds. The other is filled with wild bird seed.

Birds sit above the ground on the perches on the feeders. They eat through the openings around the feeders.

There are baffles near the top of the poles the feeders are mounted on. The baffles prevent squirrels from getting on the feeders.

When I fill the seeders, I also spread seed on the ground for squirrels and ground feeding birds - mostly doves.

There are all kinds and sizes of birds visiting the feeders and the ground around them.

The ground feeders don't seem to care who's next to them on the ground. It makes no difference whether it's a bird or a squirrel.

I haven't observed any fighting or disputes. I've seen over 15 creatures feeding at a time on the ground. I've seen up to 8 birds at a time on each of the feeders.

I was putting peanuts on the ground at one point. Squirrels and birds would eat them. Sometimes crows and ravens would join in. The ravens are huge. Ravens are many times the size of the squirrels and birds.

There's also a large bird bath off to the side. It too is shared by all the birds and squirrels. I've only seen birds bathing with their own kind. I have yet to see birds and squirrels bathing at the same time.

Peace and prosperity and civility are apparent.

* 

Every now and then a predator appears. I've seen eagles, hawks and falcons. When one of them shows up the squirrels and birds run for cover.

There are several holly trees near the feeders. The birds and sometimes the squirrels move into them and stay there until the predators leave. The predators are simply too big to enter into the holly trees.

*

On occasion, a fox or a cat or a ground hog or a rabbit or a deer or a turtle visits. Some of them are predators as well. Sometimes predators became prey.

The rabbits and groundhogs and deer and turtles aren't predators. Their presence simply enriches the scene.

*

If I see a predator, I run out and chase it away. My presence alone doesn't result in predators fleeing. I have to run screaming at a predator.

Predators tend to regard timidity with indifference, even scorn. Size matters somewhat to predators but flailing and zooming towards them freaks them out.

* 

I try not to go outside when there are creatures feeding. My presence usually causes them to take off, but they return immediately after I leave. They don't leave the area. They only create safe space - usually up a tree.

Some of the birds stay when I go outside as long as I'm not approaching the feeders.

*

A lot of countries have adopted eagles as their symbols. The eagle was a symbol of power in ancient Rome. The eagle is a symbol of power in the United States.

If we're to have a symbol, I would rather it wasn't a predator. I'm always amazed by the smaller birds. Humming birds are amazing. Finches are splendidly colored.

I don't enjoy being within the presence of any of the predators. They're not warm and friendly.

We have 2 small dogs - Zoey and Zach. We don't let them outside by themselves. They wouldn't stand a chance with an eagle.

Kathy and I are partners. We share our home and yard with other creatures. We have no symbols other than possibly bird seed and sometimes peanuts.

Kathy is an artist. She paints pictures. A lot of people buy her art. They find her paintings warm and friendly - comforting. A lot of people have said her art makes them happy.

*

I've taken down the Church of the Holy Moly. I'm no longer it's prophet. I'm just a guy who, among other things, puts seed out in the yard and sometimes runs out screaming when predators come by.

Vegetables, Fruit And Flowers Kathy Buschi, Artist