Can you see what I see?

My mind is clouded today with point of view.

I take care of my mother and two handicapped siblings. I really get frustrated with their demands. The worst part is when I lay the law down on one of my two siblings, my mother overrules. Its that slippery slope when you take care of an elderly parent compounded with two mentally handicapped individuals who do need some expectations.

A piece of me thinks of putting them in group homes and assisted living. However, I am still not at my wits end. Secondly, who do you know has really lived a better life for shirking their responsibilities. I also care for each of these individuals.

My sister's depression has lifted tremendously taking care of Checkers and her half grown puppies. There is a satisfaction with seeing someone happy that can't be replaced. My life might be easier without them. But I know it will not be as rich.

I judged a science fair the past two days. Its nice to get out with other people. Having some conversation. I flagged one project for an overall prize. It was one of those rare projects, done by the student, written by the student, the science was solid and it was presented well. When I interviewed the student, I was impressed.

The second day judge who looked over the first place winners in our section did not choose the project to go the state science fair much less for an overall prize. He was skeptical of what I thought.

What I really thought was that's how it goes. Things are chosen based on merits. But it really boils down to perception in many cases.

We all have that fine line when working with other people. When do we strike out and believe in our own convictions and when do we suck it up and go with the flow. In essence, Hamlet's quote, "To be or not to be."

A punchline for a teacher joke is my mantra at times. I am the adult. I am the adult. I am the adult.

I hope everyone is having a great day.

Shades of WHAT?

I'm reading "Habits of Being" by Flannery O'Conner. It is a collection of her letters and is incredibly  interesting. Her recommendation to a friend to eat cornbread sopped in turnip green pot liquor was sincere and hilarious. I understand her stories more and recognize a South that has slipped beyond the horizon.

I haven't read Shades of Gray. With so many books on my bookshelf vying for attention, I doubt sincerely that I ever get to it. It's one of those books I would only buy at a yardsale or flea market.

Not that that is an insult from me. I get most of my books from those sources. I go into bookstores and walk out with a few about once a month. I am a readaholic. I bought Flannery O'Conner on Amazon.

It all boils down to the title of my blog. There comes a point where you know you are only going to get to do so much before the final curtain call of your life. I've even acknowledged to myself that I am glad to have lived this long. My mom is 82. I hope to live so long.

Which brings me to the next point, watched Lisa Ling's show Our America. I watched the last half of folks making amateur porn. Some for money. Some for free. The next show was about BDSM or the topic of Shades of Gray. One couple who are my age were at a B&B which was renowned for working the kinks out of your kinky lovelife.

This is the point. Where do these people get the time. I'm retired and I still don't have time to sit down and drink my morning coffee. It's large gulps as I wash dishes and run back and forth through the kitchen trying to keep the household functioning and these people have an elaborate bedroom decorated with their "naughtables".  I would just like to get my bedroom straightened up.

I will say they looked physically fit. I walk about an hour every day. To really get toned up, I have to put in about 3 hours of exercise in about three days a week. These two have full-times jobs, in their fifties and do the wild thing several hours a day. Methinks thou exaggerates.

Another one was a submissive with her playmate. She sits on the floor and he gives her a sudden bite of cake. Sort of like my dogs sitting around my office. They are also free to go but choose to stay. I don't even have a piece of cake.

I'm reading "The Habits of Being" by Flannery O'Conner.

Streets of Gold

I had a friend in college who said he cried in Sunday School as a child when they said the streets of heaven would be paved in gold. It sounded like a terrible place to live.

I agree. Heaven would have bucolic dirt roads and your feet and clothes would never get dirty. The stones would never hurt your ever pedicured feet.

I've read fascinating accounts of the majesty of angels and trumpets roaring. God being triumphant in the world of men. I've seen mighty winds blow away the cold and rain for a calm peaceful day, I've listened to the rain on the roof and heard the thunder rumble. I've smelled honeysuckle on a hot sunny day. In my opinion the angels and trumpets are roaring around us if we take time to see and listen.

Trees in Winter

Pecan tree in overgrown pasture

I have been studying the way trees look this winter. I can recognize how different species grow by the way their branches form. The bark of trees is more apparent.

Old biddies

Oaks have a masculine look in that they grow a strong main stem with smaller branching off periodically. Much like the tree of life and trees found in fairy tales. There are three that stand together near the Happy Hour Mail Center that I have named the three old biddies.

Driving through the older sections of Warner Robins, the pruned Oaks along the roadways have lumps and scars from the loss of limbs. One oak makes me think of the unusual older woman who has weathered time with few wrinkles, scars or age marks on her skin. The bark is so sleek and smooth in comparison to the other trees on the road.

Pecans have a feminine shape in that they have a main stem which branches into a whirl of branches. Those in modern groves are pruned to delay this feature. But nature cannot be defeated. Why I would give feminine and masculine attributes are about as logical as the french giving every noun a feminine or masculine article instead of the all-purpose article "the" that we use in English.

Flock of red winged blackbirds.

I have not always bothered with looking at trees and birds. In my youth I always wondered why I could care less and others were fascinated. Now its me slowly searching for detail. Reveling in the wintering of the red winged blackbird and robin.

Red Winged Blackbirds in Pecan Grove

Row of Oaks on Davis Drive in Warner Robins, GA, USA

We had the thermometer drop below freezing about two nights ago. Even though it was about 25 degrees Fahrenheit (-5 degrees Celsius), I could feel a bit of spring. Looking at distant tree branches, there was a little red pigment from buds developing. Of course the Japanese magnolia was in full bloom. One of my apple trees had a few flower buds trying to develop.

Peach trees bloom in mid to late February. Peach farmers panic about losing their fruit to a freeze. If not enough freezes come through, they pay people to knock undeveloped fruit from their trees. Otherwise they will get many, many small knotty peaches.

They always say it is darkest before the dawn. It's always coldest before the spring. We have spring-like weather off and on between January and March. The grass is growing very green under the Pecan trees by the road. However, we are due at least three more hard freezes. The last usually the last week of March or first week of April.

This is actually a sunset

Lilith was the mythical first wife of Adam. She too was wrought from clay. Below is a link to Sweet Briar College in Virginia in which Christopher Witcombe describes Lilith's role.

Westward of the Garden of Eden

http://witcombe.sbc.edu/eve-women/7evelilith.html

If I read it right the allegory that is the underpinning of Western Civilization almost was an ode to the "Battle of the Sexes". And of course, the woman is the villain. The original writer must have looked at their wife, daughter or mother and had reservations. They settled after a row with their wife on making woman kind responsible for original sin. LOL

This is one benefit of having Native American ancestry. A little piece of me has a culture with not much more but a little more reverence for the wisdom of women.

Oh well, much more fodder for the pen.

Memory Lane

Driving down Popular Street in Macon, for a brief moment it looked like a medieval village with garroted towers, church steeples touching the sky on a knoll. Then the light changed.

Sidney Lanier Cottage

Macon, GA is a town in decline and a town resurrecting itself from the ashes. The noble infrastructure of grand homes, extensive store fronts, old manufacturing buildings with ancient water tower intact still stand along with the remnants of brick facades, boarded up businesses, an occasional homeless person along the street and modern business towers.

Today, I saw a homeless woman along a east-west street on the edges of downtown Macon's business district. My spoiled bulldog started with a soft bark. Like a child, I nudged her softly to not talk. The light took forever to change and she had developed a rolling deep throated bark.

There is a shiver you feel in your soul when you realize a dog riding in your car has a better life than the woman sitting along the sidewalk.

When I got out of the meeting at Sidney Lanier Cottage along High Street, the view is fabulous. The Macon Medical Center looks incongruous with its modernity against the rolling land of the Piedmont and genteel homes. The urge to skip on the brick road like I did as a child rumbles in my throat.

Getting into my car. Louise nuzzles me. She knows I'll buy her a hamburger.

Chi Chi Crazy Morning