Once in a Blue Moon

At 4:45 AM MDT, January 31, 2018 the great dragon of Chinese lore started to breath a smokey fire across the moon.  Beginning an event that has not aligned in just this way since -they tell me- 1866.

I was awoken by a phone call “Are you watching the moon?” was the query. My semi conscious reply “No I’m sleeping”  I chose this night to be tired enough to sleep pretty soundly and I wanted to see this. I watched the total solar eclipse now I wanted to frost my astro-experience cake with the total lunar eclipse. Staggering out with camera, tripod and heavy long lens under one arm the other guiding me along walls across the ice;  I made my way out into the brightly moon lit January night, in a bracing 31deg. F to stand for an hour in my slippers watching the moon slip away behind a shadow of the place on which I am standing.

I got a few halfway decent pictures of the waning moon and got very chilled. I am still chilled and the sun is shining, the fire is going and I am fully dressed.

Sitting this morning trying to warm over a cup of coffee, it hit, the realization of the significance or better yet my place in history of this occurrence.

1866 is when they are saying this happened last, the building I am sitting in was not even a hole in the ground. The building next to me had just started it’s journey of becoming the Park’s Place, a boarding house in a frontier mining town. Then some 30 years later to be bought by my husbands grandfather and turned into the Central Hotel at the turn of the century [the turn of LAST century!]

To think this happened when my 2rd Great-grand father was alive , that is humbling.  My own grandson celebrated his 20th birthday on the eve of this astrological event. That is a more humbling thought. My grandson will be able to say his grandmother got to watch this spectacle, if the opportunity affords it’s self.

Here are the images

 

 

Advertisements

I’m a genius!!!! And I thought I was totally balmy.

Like I said, I am always composing [talking to myself], I just have to start writing it down. Today, a cousin posted a link on FB and I read the article.

I discovered this author believes  talking to ones self means you are a genius. I could call my self a lot of things, genius is not ever on the list except in a disparaging tone [ex. Well, THAT was a genius move].  Stick around long enough and you learn a lot of things, this is one of those things. Here is the link to the article, draw  your own conclusions.

http://eclecticread.topratedviral.com/article/science-says-people-who-talk-to-themselves-are-geniuses/promote/1001135

And there it goes again

It was sunny yesterday, just a little chill in the breeze [after all is is March]. Montana is reminding everyone it is cold here. Then again March is a schizophrenic month no matter where where you live. It rained two days ago and now it is snowing. This coming week it is going to be in the 60’s again. Talk about whiplash. Make up your mind.

I worked outside all day trying to pull off a job made for two by myself. I enjoyed being outside but the frustration of not being four handed made for a bittersweet experience. I did make it though, just a little worn for the mental exercise keeping my self from throwing things and generally making a fool of myself.

Yesterday just reminded me how much I miss my partner and best friend.

Now that is enough self indulgence.

The green house is on hold, for a week. I have to leave in the morning to keep an appointment with my grandchildren and it is snowing. It is early yet I know but, I am dying to get my finger nails dirty in the dirt. I haven’t had a green house for 20 years and it has been killing me, I just can’t wait for the  seeds to start popping through the dirt. It is a spiritual experience, like seeing something born. It just reinforces that life is worth living for these little miracles.

I have two pet peeves and they have been fed abundantly this week. One is intolerance. I  had a conversation that revolved around the minorities “deserving” to be trod upon, because they are not white and the “don’t think” like whites do. It takes all that I am to not just walk away and disavow any knowledge of that person. The other is bigotry.  I have had conversations that are based on “if they would only do the way I would it would work” irregardless of their culture, training or life experiences.  One of those conversations included “well they deserved it” because they chose to live like they wanted to and not like is acceptable in my circle. I am not sure that any one “deserves” something horrible to happen to them no matter  what they do.

I have to remember that every one has the right to their opinion no matter how wrong they are. I just try to not get too snappish when they start espousing their ignorance.

Now I have to get my mind headed in the positive direction and get ready to be a grandma.

Finally

Well, it is now March, almost April.  a lot has happened. After the death of my brother-in-law, cousin and sister I thought it was safe, everyone would stay healthy. Boy, I shouldn’t think for myself,  I was so wrong. On the plane ride home from Missouri,  my thoughts were of Ruby. This feisty,opinionated,downright aggravating 89 year-young lady had fallen in her yard, caring for her 50 plus chickens, and in “Ruby fashion” refused to be taken for medical evaluation. Her granddaughter, who she called, couldn’t convince her and did not force it. After all,  who can overrule grandma? Especially when her name is Ruby Ruth. When I got back I was going to try to talk her or her son to get her some medical attention. Ruby had been pressing on around the house and fussing with the chickens, selling the eggs for a couple of weeks in her injured state.  It was time to get something done, she was obviously not ok.  While I was gone, she relented and allowed her daughter to take he to the emergency, where they promptly admitted her with a bilateral pelvic fracture. She ran the hospital ragged in her gentil style for about two weeks before she developed a saline deficiency. “The food is awful, no flavor, NO SALT on ANYTHING”, became the topic of most visits, she would not eat much of the “awful” food. We went to visit one day and Ruby was not herself at all. She was transferred to a larger facility 30 miles away, and treated with electrolytes. After a few trying days, and hospice relief for weary family members, Ruby re-bounded and hospice retired. Ruby was back. The family had spent days and nights at the hospital. A granddaughter was recruited to serve a shift, even now when Ruby was doing so well, to save the hospital staff her demands. Early the next morning, the call came “Gramma died”.
Well, Ruby left us like she lived, on her own terms. No fanfare,  no niceties, just left to perform whatever job she has been assigned in the afterlife. The funeral she planned and paid for went off without a hitch. She would be pleased. During the time family is together, there is a lot of talk about the past and the future, in my future is a trip. It is not on my “bucket” list but I will put it there so that I can scratch it off. We are leaving for a month-long excursion in Scandinavia.  I have traveled extensively in the states following, with my parents, jobs and greener pastures. Since I’ve become an adult, I have done a bit more with my husband, but since he succumbed to cancer 7 years ago, I haven’t done much except re-trace old routes that we traveled together. I am a bit anxious about my fatigue level, but I will persevere and deal with it.  Hard duty, but someone has to do it, right?… Right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I won’t be there!

I don’t usually take forever to get my clothes on, but today it is early afternoon and I am still in my robe and slippers. A week ago [has it been only a week?] my brother-in-law died. He was 79 and had been in declining health for the last few years. Then a few days later, my cousin died. Peggy and I had re-connected a number of years ago after years of not knowing much about each other. This morning, My baby sister died. that is hard to fathom. She had COPD and didn’t take very good care of herself. She had so many issues with life that none of us could help her with.

I guess I am still in a bit of denial or shock. I wasn’t surprised that my brother-in-law died, just [like all deaths] not prepared. I was not able to attend his funeral.

Now my cousin and sister [they were close to the same age] under 60, that is another story. Not that either one was on speed-dial or even monthly call basis, they will be missed. I was not able to go to either of their funerals, it is a bad time of year and Peggy lived in  California and my sister is in Missouri. I made plans to go to see Peggy in February and my sister in the spring. Those plans have been changed by circumstances.  I did speak to my sister more in the last few months than I had in previous years. She could be difficult and was prone to being angry. I might be able to make her funeral only because our brother is willing to help me get there.

I counted on my fingers this morning, it has been four months since I sat down and wrote anything. I have just not taken the time, and now it seems that is what I need to do.

I hate funerals, and I have always held that I won’t be attending mine. I don’t want to have the funeral the last memory of me.

My problem with funerals? I would like to remember the person on my terms Not the grief stricken, shell shocked faces of all the loved ones. Now, I know that funerals are the time for all family and friends to get together to express their love and commitment, wouldn’t it be better to do that before the death? I wonder if we express our feelings often enough. I know I don’t. It is just too easy to let the opportunity to slip away, and too difficult to just “blurt” it out when there are other things going on. I know of a few professional funeral attenders, they go to any funeral they can get into and put on an appropriately sad face. As soon as possible they rush eagerly to the buffet line usually the first in line. These people worry me.

It isn’t new, in days past people were paid to be mourners. The louder and more pitiful they could be brought them more money. It was a sign of importance to have large funerals with a lot of mourners. I am not sure that practice has changed much except I don’t think they pay mourners anymore.

Life will go on and I will go on. There will just be three more holes in the fiber of my life.