I Heart New York

This pic was taken with the iphone camera, manipulated in photoshop. Very much more surreal than the pics taken with the Nikon, I think. What do you think?

I booked the Bolt bus ticket, also bought a ticket to the Metropolitan Museum this morning, which means that for sure I'm going to NYC in a couple of weeks. I have a smile on my face, oh yeah.

It's always good to have something to look forward to, and also it's very important to get out of DC during the summer. NYC is not the idyllic cabin by a placid lake scenario I'm always imagining for myself as a summer getaway, but it beats being poked in the eye by a sharp stick, yes? I say yes.

My plans for the 2 nights and most of three glorious days include the usual: walking around and taking pictures, sitting in various cafes, eavesdropping on conversations, taking in the energy and architecture and buzz of the big apple. In addition I will be staying with my wonderful blog friend Elizabeth, also catching up with my friend Dave Scott, someone I've known since 6th grade. If I am able to catch up with my artist friend Mary Proenza, it will prove to be a stellar vacay.

It's rather stupid that I don't go more often. I have wonderful friends I can stay with, the Bolt bus round-trip is $40 ... for heaven's sake, why do I wait so long between visits? I love New York! Who doesn't?? I mean really.


The Nikon takes softer surreal pics. Do you agree?

Redemptions

c..1340, "deliverance from sin," from L. redemptionem (nom. redemptio) "a buying back, releasing, ransoming," from redemptus, pp. of redimere "to redeem, buy back," from re-"back" + emere "to take, buy, gain, procure" (see exempt).

I like the literal translation of the Hebrew word for "sin" which is roughly, "that which does not work." Yeah. Stealing (for instance) really never works, does it? Nor does lying or killing - you know what I mean.

It was a sin to have to share my kitchen with Rat who brought nothing but chaos, destruction and filth along with him. No offense to him, I know he was just doing his thing, but it did not work to share space.

Now maybe I'm jumping the gun here, thinking (hoping) he might be gone. I no longer feel the presence, but I could be fooling myself. This was no dumb rodent who came to visit the chateau, nope. He was a bionic, genius robo bot Rat who I assume escaped from some lab at NIH, based on how smart he was. He outwitted all three of the traps I set. He was able to get to the bait on two of them without tripping the mechanisms. The third trap, called "The Jaw" (yikes) is still baited, sitting right where I left it. He checked it out but surmised it was too dangerous, left it alone. I base this assumption on the location of his hair and poo, right in front of the trap as if he stood there, contemplating the possibilities, perhaps scratching his head (hence the hair). This is the kind of test lab rats are subjected to all the time. Ya know?

That was a few days ago. Since then, I haven't seen hide nor hair of Rat. I'm starting to relax. I will remain vigilant and leave the trap for a few more days, just to make sure. When the people who own the chateau return from vacation, one of them is going to look for the points of entry and seal them tight.

Once that takes place, if I still don't see evidence of his presence, I will redeem the kitchen by cooking a big ole dinner, invite someone(s) I adore to share in the feast with me.

I hope and pray this is the last Rat update, because what I actually thought I was going to write about this morning is the nature of the redemptions that follow battles with the dragons and demons; the beautiful, clear calm that follows those storms.

Can't wait to proclaim that the rat-dragon has been slain or at least defeated. Then I'll be able to think of other, more interesting things. Onwards and upwards! May it be so.

Kill the Dragon*

Into every life, they say, some rain must fall. Sometimes it's a sprinkle, sometimes a deluge. Occasionally a big ole tsunami sweeps through. We sink or swim, over and over again.

I love the archetypal narrative of dragon slaying as an alternative way to meet those moments when life could get the best of you, but doesn't. The sink or swim paradigm is in certain ways more realistic, since we have no control over mighty Mother Nature, since even sometimes when we choose to prevail, the tsunami might overwhelm us anyway.

Nevertheless I like the idea of battling the dragon. It's not so passive as sinking or swimming, it requires mythic levels of courage. It sure as hell seems more heroic. I guess. The "truth" is, dragons can not be slain any more than we can control a flood. A flood is, according to my cosmology, a water dragon anyway, so what's the difference?

Dragon slaying requires more than treading water. One must rise up out of the situation, sword in hand, eyes flashing with fierceness, muscles tense (at least in the stories it looks like that) and engage with whatever it is that's bringing us down.



I'm thinking this morning about people I know who went a lot farther than contemplating suicide; they planned it, they decided how to go about it and they almost completed the act. Some of these people didn't actually die, but something went wrong in the process. They half-died, I guess is the way to say it. They seem always to walk in shadow, they are drugged at all times, unwilling to return fully to life. Others snapped out of it somehow or another; they fought hard. A dragon can not be killed, but because they were brave enough or willing enough to fight, these people came back from the experience more vivid and whole hearted than before. I know at least two, maybe three people who lived through this experience.

I also know people who gave up and sank. I think of my marvelously talented friend Terri Wilson who, in early March of 1991, took too many drugs, lay on the beach with her dog at her side, and died.

Not sure why I'm thinking about these particular people this morning because personally I have never even contemplated suicide. But I drop into some serious tailspins sometimes, I get caught in a big wave, get sucked into a rip tide of one kind or another. That's what last week was for me, a crap week of hopelessness, fear, sadness. I had my reasons - the client who died, another client very ill, and the appearance of Rat. I also blame the eclipse, because I love blaming the planets for everything. (They are large beings and don't really care.)

Yesterday I could have hidden inside the chateau all day, thereby prolonging my emotional slog. A friend called to invite me out for the Barracks Row parade. I said yes. Then I went to the movies with another dear one, after which I wandered home through the throngs of people dressed in red, white and blue down on the mall. Yesterday evening I walked around the corner to a neighborhood barbecue. I engaged with people, the arts (the movie, Midnight in Paris, was adorable), the energy of the day. I laughed, feasted, walked, drank sangria. So as it turns out, the 4th of July was a really fun day, as it has been in the past - just different from the good old days on Tennessee Avenue.

Yep, I rose from the flood, lifted my sword. I "killed" the dragon. Today I'm feeling good, I'm back to myself. Many grateful thanks to the friends who encouraged me to get out and about. Thanks too to God, and the dragons too, bless their fiery hearts. L'chaim, y'all. Onwards and upwards.

...................
*Not talking about Rat. He disappeared a couple of nights ago and has not returned. The trap is still loaded. I haven't had the nerve to check under the sink, his favorite hangout, to see if there are any new droppings. I needed a break from ratting. But maybe he's gone. Ya think?

Bombs bursting in air

"It’s easy to forget, especially around U.S. Independence Day, how much trial and error went into the creation of American democracy ... The warm and wise philosopher Jacob Needleman looked back at the American founders with this in mind for his book "The American Soul." He found that every iconic institution, every political value, had “inward work” of conscience behind it. Every hard-won right had a corresponding responsibility." ~~Krista Tippett, blogging about her 2003 interview with Mr. Needleman.

Her blog, and the interview itself, are truly worth spending a few minutes with today. Wow. Jacob Needleman is a great, humane thinker, which is one of the reasons I loved his book so much when I read it a few years ago. Jacob Needleman is NOT a cynic. It's so refreshing!

I try NOT to be cynical whenever possible. When I get cynical, sarcastic, I find that state of being so exhausting. I feel that my connection to the life force becomes thin and brittle, that my sense of gratitude and appreciation for the beauty of life shrivels up until I can't breathe. Oh god I really try to avoid getting into a state of cynicism. It does not help me in any way.

No matter about my resolve, there are times when I find myself choking and gasping for energy, for air. Sometimes it takes awhile to realize I've lapsed into the sharp, biting, stingy thought-form of cynicism.

This year, the Fourth of July is a tough day for me. Today it would be all too easy to tip over, face first, into cynicism, to characterize Americans as mindless buffoons because our traditions around this holiday include getting drunk, eating charred meat and setting off small bombs. In years past, that's exactly how I spent the day - grilling ribs, hanging out with the neighbors, drinking beer all day. This year, I'm out of that pattern, feeling at odds with everything at the moment. Dang, man.

Is it wrong to want to have some fun, blow off steam, in celebration? Nope, there's nothing wrong with that. Just because I had a bad week doesn't mean anyone else should be moping around today, yes? I say yes.

Jacob Needleman says that America has always been a mess, since the get-go, but that's no reason to hate America or Americans. OK. I agree completely. But being an American is complicated, it really is.

I'm going to the movies today. Tonight I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Later, when the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air begins just a few blocks away on the National Mall, I'm going to try very hard to keep breathing, to exhale any tendency towards cynicism. Can I do it? YES I CAN. May it be so!

Riding for the Feeling

I've got a big day of work today, a good thing since I'm taking the 4th off. Sometimes I work on holidays, but not this holiday. In the U.S., no one works on the 4th unless they absolutely have to - like people in hospitals, cops and such. Going to work is like swimming upstream, energetically, not worth the effort.

I loved Independence Day on Tennessee Avenue back in the day when the kids were small. We used to gather to read the Declaration of Independence out loud. Then the neighbors and their kids would parade around the block, just because. After that I spent hours grilling ribs after which we had a neighborhood picnic that was always my very favorite gathering of the year.

This year I'm on E. Capitol Street, hence no ribs, no picnic. The old neighbors gave up reading the Declaration out loud a few years ago, and the neighborhood parades are ancient history. Oh well. Everything has a lifespan. I love remembering the good old days!

Tomorrow I'll watch the Capitol Hill parade, then I'm going to the movies in the early afternoon. Maybe by tomorrow the damn rat will be dead. I hope so. It would be a perfect way to celebrate independence from large, smart, creepy rodents.

My friends are so kind, all of them extending invitations to sleep at their houses. I have declined all offers. I will not cede my territory to Herr Rat. No way. He's gotta go and that is that. Once he's gone I'll have someone fill all holes the size of a quarter or larger behind the fridge, under the sink, therefore ensuring that the chateau can not become a refuge for these beasts ever again.

What an awful week this has been. Onwards and upwards to a new week, a new moon and I hope a brighter outlook. Happy Sunday, y'all.

Wild Kingdom at the Chateau

That's the top of the National Cathedral behind the treetops. I took this pic while walking across the Connecticut Street Bridge. Very cool!

I set the trap, baited it with some smoked cheddar I use in salads, placed it in a paper bag, and laid it on the floor. Then I went to bed and basically waited all night long to see if I might hear scampering followed by a loud SNAP. Inbetween periods of waiting and listening, I had a bunch of very strange dreams. In one dream I had somehow inadvertently, or perhaps in a quixotic moment, tossed my cowboy hat into a men's restroom. For the rest of the dream I was asking men to retrieve it for me. Some of the men didn't believe it was my hat, others refused to give it back because apparently the guys in the restroom were having quite a bit of fun with it. Finally someone brought it out, but it had been ripped apart. I was so disappointed.

Huh?? That is one WEIRD dream, eh? I could describe others, but you get the idea, right? I'm sure it had something to do with taking on the project of trapping the rat.

This morning I can't find any signs of a visit from Herr Rat: no droppings, nothing knocked over. The bag with the trap is exactly as I left it last night. OK. Maybe he beat a hasty retreat. I hope so. But I don't think this is over yet. I left the trap in the bag exactly where I found it. Herr Rat might be playing it cool, hoping I'll give up the hunt. I will not.

I'm very much hoping this episode is soon resolved. The kitchen is the high altar of the chateau, my favorite place. I will not share it with a large rodent, I will not. Give me back my cowboy hat, boys. Am I not a mighty hunter?? WELL??

The Control of Nature

The Control of Nature is John McPhee's bestselling account of places in the world where people have been engaged in all-out battles with nature. In Louisiana, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has declared war on the lower Mississippi River, which threatens to follow a new route to the sea and cut off New Orleans and Baton Rouge from the rest of the United States. Icelanders confront flowing red lava in an attempt to save a crucial harbor. In Los Angeles, basins are built to catch devastating debris flows from the San Gabriel Mountains.

Yeah.

When we humans decide to "control" nature, that urge does not arise from encounters with butterflies or sweet spring days, nope. It's always about some virulent bacteria, natural disasters or vermin.

Here at the chateau, I'm about to engage in some serious battle with vermin. Oh yeah. I'm not talking about the cute little mice that we dealt with at the house on Tennessee Avenue. Nope, based on the size of the poo I found under my sink yesterday and this morning, it's one of the big ones, the rodent whose name must not be mentioned.

The thing about rats is: they're smart. They're really smart. When we had one at the house where I work, it almost got stuck in a sticky trap. It got away, and never came back. Hmmm .... same thing upstairs at the chateau. They set traps, caught nothing but the critter got the hell outta Dodge. Today during a break at work I'm going to buy a sticky trap, put it under the sink. I'm absolutely, cold bloodedly determined to triumph over the beast, though I'm asking myself, if this dude gets stuck in the trap tonight, then what? Because I sure don't want to see it, let alone touch it or in any other way deal with it. If it gets stuck, I will leave the house and not return until I find someone brave enough to face the monster, take it out and dispatch it in some way or another. My hope is that it will see the trap and vamoose. Can you hold that thought for me?

Last night it chewed the sponge I use to wash dishes, but spit out the pieces. I guess it didn't taste good. Sponge in garbage can. Counter thoroughly cleaned. Me saying EWWWWWW over and over again.

Oh yeah, some aspects of nature beg for control, they really do. I will not share the chateau with one of these guys. I will prevail. I will. Do you believe me?