Damp and Drear…

…but above freezing so not slippery.

Here’s a poem I came across yesterday. Apparently a number of well known poets were asked to take a Taylor Swift song as a starting point for a poem. Since I don’t know Taylor Swift from Adam, I don’t know what song served as the prompt for this, but I think “Creation" is a mighty fine bit of writing.

Creation

Dean Rader

And on the eighth day, God

was totally done with the haters. Nothing

but complaints about acne, mosquitos,

unripe fruit. Where’s my house? Where are my

clothes? What’s with the serpents? And so

God did not bless the eighth day. And

she did not rest. And she did not

see that it was good, in part because

God’s boyfriend told her to clean

up the areas around the swamps and

make more mountains. His best work?

An asteroid. Whatever. Has he even seen

the firmament? She nailed it. Beaches too.

And lord the animals. They never shut

up, but she doesn’t mind. They are hers.

And the color of the sky? She invented

that. Same with fire, but she’s saving

the good stuff for later: rain, earthquakes,

ice storms, lightning. Wait till they hear

thunder. Now, that’s godly. A reminder.

At the present though, it’s all judgment,

all critique. Nonstop. And rude. Everyone

thinks she is getting it wrong. But wait

until they hear birdsong, wave wash

leaf lilt, wind rush, river run. She made

the howls of wolves, the bristle of cicadas,

the puddles of rain, and all the cries. And she

made the sounds of sticks and teeth and tongue

and stone and skin and mouth and bone

and sea and roar and wail and call and

clap and sigh and gasp and moan and

mew and chant and chirp and purr and

trill and hum and laugh. She is making

music. That’s what they don’t know.

But they will. Because everything is

moving, everything vibrating in one

great dance that is the act of becoming.

Let there be light, and there was light. She

will put behind her the darkness of day eight.

Tomorrow is day nine. She was born to create.

Lunch at the Lake…

…actually at Chuck’s in Fontana with Sally and Glenn.

Above, sea smoke caused by frigid air moving over not quite frozen water.

The blooming continues

As Mimi finished up her extensive Christmas sewing projects she was rewarded with a nice big piece of broken needle embedded in her big toe. Tetanus shot, antibiotic, and scheduled surgery all part of the holiday celebration.

Amaryllis…

…blossoming. Will it be in full bloom by Christmas?

a crust of bread

jumps with the sparrows

round the courtyard

—Dina Franin

awakened

as ice bursts

the water jar—

— Basho

a bitter morning:

sparrows sitting together

without any necks

—J. W. Hackett

in the silence

after snow

a wren’s faint chirp

— Rich Krivcher

Dim and Dark…

…also short, and chilly. Just about 9 hours of sun-up, compared to about 15.5 in June. And, we are heading for a deep freeze.

Ideas related to Small Is Beautiful:
Small is Beautiful, Economics as if People Mattered
—EF Schumacher

The function of work is at least threefold: to give a man a chance to utilize and develop his faculties; to enable him to overcome his ego-centeredness by joining with other people in a common task; and to bring forth the goods and services needed for a becoming existence.

“The Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not for every man's greed."
--Gandhi

The truth of the matter is that a large part of the costs of private enterprise are borne by the public in terms of basic  R&D, infrastructure, subsidies, bailouts, pollution, and cleanup costs.

Which is better—capital employing men or men employing capital?

What is the purpose of an economic system…
is it to maximize the creation of billionaires, 
is it to develop an oligarchy, 
or is it to provide the opportunity for all members of the society to build dignified and productive lives free from want?

What’s needed is a sustainable economics that prioritizes people and the environment over profit.

Old Fashioned Bike Ride

Since my ebike in in for its annual refit, and since the weather turned out sunny, still, and warm, I took my very nice non-electrified old traditional bike for a ride, and while everything felt odd, the ride was still worthwhile, though clearly demonstrating the value of a quality electrified two-wheeled conveyance. I get my Turbo Creo back tomorrow, thank goodness.

Breakfast With The Oddballs…

…the old timer Dem rejects. We now pretend we are right wing farmers, though, of course, only one of us is actually a farmer, and all of us are way out on the left wing.
We have decided that we will now accept reality and recognize that none of our previous big plans amounted to anything. Still and all, it’s good to have friends and to get together to philosophize (or more accurately, shoot the breeze).

Ice on the Rock

There Is No Cure…

…for the common cold, save home remedies, placebos—and time. I’m trying all three and hope I am on the back side of the time curve.

My home-made bookcase with a collection of objects

From A Pattern Language

Things From Your Life Pattern (253)

Problem

“Decor” and the conception of “interior design” have spread so widely, that very often people forget their instinct for the things they really want to keep around them.

Solution

Do not be tricked into believing that modern decor must be slick or psychedelic, or “natural” or “modern art”, or “plants” or anything else that current taste-makers claim. It is most beautiful when it comes straight from your life—the things you care for, the things that tell your story.