Rosy

The wild rose bushes are popping. Nicely aromatic but very brief blooms. Fortunately there are many more to come and they will all leave nice fat rose hips which are tasty and very high in vitamin C. Good for me and the critters, furry and feathery. A quiet day with no human interaction which is helping me get my "hermit groove on." There is so much sensory clutter in our lives-visual and aural. And words are the worst! Words are also my hardest obstacle because I pretty much live by them. But gradually I am able to increase the time I am able to simply "be." It is hard to explain, but when you get there it feels so good and you are part of the sky, the earth, the critters, the birds: creation. The observation ends and the participation begins. Sounds very LaLa land but it is real, to me. And healing.

Well, I kinda lied. I did have human interaction via 44 minutes of Skype with Mme. Latour who called to collect her compliments on her emailed greeting to Rene and Therese and talk about her totally optional MRI's. One yesterday to see if her arachnoid cyst is the same and one soon to check out her carotid artery. Her brother had a heart attack and had three stents put in so she needs an MRI. But, she says "Marc is never sick." He was sitting behind her and I could see his face. So I had to remind her about his six weeks of agony with his prostate this spring. Nobody is going to out-drama the queen. Of course I am a completely empathic listener-she seems to need this but it always ends with me saying to myself-"There goes 45 minutes I can never get back."

Reminds me of my sweet boss Alex Semryck who had a pscho-harridan wife. "People ask me if I ever think about hitting Bernice," he said. "Hit her? Never! But murder..." They have both gone to their reward or wherever it is Jews go.