Truth never penetrates an unwilling mind.

Jorge Luis Borges 

So plant your own gardens and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. Jorge Luis Borges

All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art. Jorge Luis Borges

We've been in a POLITICAL PANDEMIC since the MONSTER took office.

I love this poem. It's a painting with words.

The Coffee Cup

by Donald Hall

The newspaper, the coffee cup, the dog’s impatience for his morning walk: These fibers braid the ordinary mystery. After the marriage of lovers the children came, and the school bus that stopped to pick up the children,   and the expected death of the retired mailman Anthony “Cat” Middleton who drove the school bus for a whole schoolyear, a persistence enduring forever in the soul of Marilyn who was six years old that year.   We dug a hole for him. When his widow Florence sold the Cape and moved to town to live near her daughter, the Mayflower van was substantial and unearthly. Neither lymphoma nor a brown-and-white cardigan twenty years old   made an exception, not elbows nor Chevrolets nor hills cutting blue shapes on blue sky, not Maple Street nor Main, not a pink-striped canopy on an ice cream store, not grass. It was ordinary that on the day   of Cat’s funeral the school bus arrived driven by a woman called Mrs. Ek, freckled and thin, wearing a white bandana and overalls, with one eye blue and the other gray. Everything is strange; nothing is strange:   yarn, the moon, gray hair in a bun, New Hampshire, putting on socks.

__________

From Old and New Poems, Ticknor & Fields, 1990.

 

Learning the Quirks

The reason my car has malfunctioned a few times is due to my interfering with disobeying the proper sequences. I am used to a standard shift and this is an automatic. If I turn off my car off while it's in drive it gets angry. Seriously. I believe the electronics get confused. So I am trying to be vigilant. My car is Pontiac G6 2009. She is a great car. I am just having to learn the quirks.

Dream

I dreamed that I found a book of Edward Hicks paintings in a used books pile at the library and opened it and my name was written inside in pencil in a child's handwriting. My middle name was spelled wrong.

I never knew the details of Edward Hicks' life until I read them just now.

By 1816, his wife was expecting a fifth child. After a relative of Hicks, at the urging of Hicks' close friend John Comly, talked to him about painting again, Hicks resumed decorative painting. This friendly suggestion saved Hicks from financial disaster, and preserved his livelihood not as a Quaker Minister but as a Quaker artist.^[6] Around 1820, Hicks made the first of his many paintings of The Peaceable Kingdom. Hicks' easel paintings were often made for family and friends, not for sale, and decorative painting remained his main source of income.^[7]

In 1827, a schism formed within the Religious Society of Friends, between Hicksites (named after Edward Hicks' cousin Elias Hicks) and Orthodox Friends.^[8] As new settlers swelled Pennsylvania's Quaker community, many branched off into sects whose differences sometimes conflicted with one another, which greatly discouraged Edward Hicks from continuing to preach.^[9] Nonetheless, in his lifetime Hicks was better known as a minister than as a painter.^[10] He is buried at Newtown Friends Meetinghouse Cemetery in Newtown Township, Bucks County, Pennsylvania. he died in 1849.

Edward Hicks (April 4, 1780 – August 23, 1849) was an American folk painter and distinguished Christian minister of the Society of Friends (a.k.a. "Quakers"). He became a notable Quaker because of his paintings. 

Quaker beliefs prohibited a lavish life or having excessive quantities of objects or materials. Unable to maintain his work as a preacher and painter at the same time, Hicks transitioned into a life of painting, and he used his canvases to convey his beliefs. He was unconfined by rules of his congregation, and able to freely express what religion could not: the human conception of faith.^[11]

One of over 60 versions of The Peaceable Kingdom painted by Edward Hicks, c. 1833–1834. Brooklyn Museum

Although it is not considered a religious image, Hicks' Peaceable Kingdom exemplifies Quaker ideals. Hicks painted 62 versions of this composition. The animals and children are taken from Isaiah 11:6–8 (also echoed in Isaiah 65:25), including the lion eating straw with the ox. Hicks used his paintings as a way to define his central interest, which was the quest for a redeemed soul. This theme was also from one of his theological beliefs.^[12]

When the Seasons Change (with Pollen & Full Moon)

I saw a sun dog this morning on my way home from walking Romeo. The south end of our street was closed due to road work. I was at our intersection talking to Mike the traffic cop. "Look! See that?"

"A rainbow," Mike said. "Does it mean good luck?"

"Of course," I said. "It's called a sun dog and it's from the sunlight hitting ice crystals."

When I came home I realized I didn't have my keys. I used the secret hidden spare key to get back in. I was hyperventilating, telling myself breathe, breathe, calm down. No keys. I must've dropped them on my walk. I left Romeo at home and ran back out. I passed Mike and told him, "I dropped my keys on my dog walk!"

"You'll find them," Mike said.

 

I ran down East School Street in a total panic, retracing my steps. I had the wherewithal to remember where on Hazel Street Romeo had pooped. That might be when the clip slipped off my jeans pocket, right next to Nautical Enterprises. I didn't see the keys so I rang their doorbell. They opened the door and said "We have your keys!! We saw the YMCA tag and were either going to call the Y or maybe just hang the keys on the telephone pole." 

 

I said thank you. "Calling the YMCA would have worked because I work there! And I've found keys before and dropped them at the police department. But if you hang them up and someone steals them they could get into someone's house!"

 

"But thank you so much, I always lose my keys when the seasons change," I said, laughing. I came home and hunted for my fanny pack, figuring that would be more secure now that I'm not wearing a winter coat. After several searches around the house I started remembering when I used it last, and I finally found it.

poet Ezra Pound once said, “Literature is news that stays news.”

We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do. Gandhi

Maybe I should write down what a dream staff meeting would be like where I could share my excitement about what I am learning about teaching. And while I'm at it write about my dream siblings and parents. Write down what you wish they could've said, could've been.

Family roles, institutional roles are ingrained and reinforced by the tribe. They're hard to change especially when nobody wants them to. My thought is okay but I must explore this for myself.

We have to be the change we want to see in the world. 

Ghandi

I once told my kids that their taste buds change with every shoe size, in an effort to explain to them that their food tastes will change as they grow. They've always taken it very literally, and try foods they've hated in the past with curiosity every time they get new shoes.

Gretchen Ronnevik

Quotes from my kids, this balmy Sunday morning of 29°F: “Why do I have to wear a coat? It’s above zero!” “I just want to feel the sun on my skin. It’s amazing.” “I hope it’s this warm on Easter this year.” “Can we drive home with the windows down?”  Gretchen Ronnevik

 

My husband’s late grandmother, who kept her house so clean that a wild pheasant once flew into her porch window and broke its neck, took one look at that pheasant and decided to pluck it and gut it and cook it up for dinner. And she and her husband even voted in different political parties. I remember seeing them holding hands on the way to the voting booth saying, “We’re off to cancel out each other’s vote!” Gretchen Ronnevik

 

A home is where we rest and receive care, can be vulnerable, and find intimacy.

Gretchen Ronnevik

It’s an old story. A woman cuts off the ends of her ham before she sets it in the pan to bake it, just like her mother taught her. Her mother cut off the ends of her ham before she set it in the pan to bake it, just as the grandmother did. When asked why she cut off the ends of the ham before baking it, the grandmother replied, “Because my pan was too small.”

Traditions are often born out of necessity, and in moments of deep distress or overwork, it’s easy to seek comfort in nostalgia. As we often ask ourselves: How did the previous generations survive? How did they get everything done?

Everything is supposedly quick and easy now. The invention of “TV dinners” and the microwave revolutionized homemaking. When women aren’t spending hours a day preparing food, they have time to do many other things.

My grandmother was a working mother of seven. She worked as a psychiatric nurse to help support the family since my grandfather’s wages were modest as a church planter/pastor. She loved instant anything. To her, it was the helping hand she needed. She fully embraced the technology of food you could just buy and heat up.

My mom shared a similar attitude. After her divorce with my dad, she was sling-shotted into the workforce, and quickly worked to finish her degree so she could support our family. A latchkey kid of the 80s, I did my fair share of heating up a pound of ground beef to be ready for her to make Hamburger Helper when she got home from work.

As for me, I married a farmer. I have a garden. I had always wanted to be a homemaker. But once I became one, I had no idea what I was doing.

***

There was one conversation when my mother-in-law took me to the local farm supply store to get seeds for my garden. She was going to show me the ropes. She told me to buy the Green Arrow variety of peas. I asked what made the Green Arrow variety better than other varieties. She looked stunned by the question. “Because it’s what my mother-in-law told me to get.”

Thinking it was like the story of cutting off the ends of the ham, I said, “Are they more disease-resistant? Do they produce more pods? Are the peas bigger?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s just what I was told to get. And it’s what I’m telling you to get. This is the best seed.”

I’m a curious, mischievous person, so I bought some of each variety of pea seeds. I would plant them all, take notes, and decide which pea I liked the best. It would be my little experiment. My mother-in-law was not amused. Why would I waste garden space like that? Just do as you’re told.

I spent the whole summer on my experiment. My conclusion: Green Arrow peas were totally the best for our soil. They produced longer pods, and were less work when it came to shelling. This saved me time in the kitchen. She was right. I had just wanted to know why.

Gretchen Ronnevik

You've got to sell your heart, your strongest reactions, not the little minor things that only touch you lightly, the little experiences that you might tell at dinner. This is especially true when you begin to write, when you have not yet developed the tricks of interesting people on paper, when you have none of the technique which it takes time to learn. When, in short, you have only your emotions to sell.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD

At the table, one never grows old. Italian Proverb

 I also feel this way about teaching swimming and English. It gets me into the moment and out of myself.

 "A tavola non s’invecchia mai"

After a lifetime of hounding authors for advice, I’ve heard three truths from every mouth: (1) Writing is painful—it’s “fun” only for novices, the very young, and hacks; (2) other than a few instances of luck, good work only comes through revision; (3) the best revisers often have reading habits that stretch back before the current age, which lends them a sense of history and raises their standards for quality.

MARY KARR

The Mother Wound

Article 

 by Bethany Webster

It takes courage to do this kind of deep inter-generational healing work!
It's a privilege to be conscious enough to embrace this healing journey.

Many of our ancestors did not have the courage, psychological capacity or the will to step onto this path.  Honor your choice to be a pioneer to break the cycle.

You are NOT a selfish or ungrateful daughter.....

• for wanting to heal, grow and release unhealthy patterns with your mother.
• for wanting to have a voice and authentically share your limits, needs, and boundaries in that relationship.
• for wanting to change the dynamic with your mother into something in which you ALSO feel seen, respected and understood.
• for no longer wanting to do all the emotional labor in your relationship with your mother.
• for feeling deserving of respect in the relationship and making requests that honor yourself.
• for having things you are unwilling to do in the relationship.
• for letting your mother have her upsets, tantrums without rushing to save or rescue her from herself.
• for wanting to limit contact with your mother (either temporarily or permanently).
• for taking space to focus on yourself and your wellbeing.
• for taking the space to reflect on what your childhood experience was like so that you can heal old patterns and step into more of your power and potential.
• for not answering the phone or the email in the timing that your mother wants.
• for no longer being willing to be the role of therapist, counselor or emotional caretaker for your mom.
• for having different values, beliefs or worldview from your mother.
• if you decide you do not want to continue certain family traditions in your own family.

These choices are all part of your sovereignty as a woman, as a separate individual with your own voice, needs, limits, and desires.

This is all part of self-worth, self-love and self-respect.

This is part of healing the Mother Wound as well as healing from codependency and enmeshment with our mothers.

Even if no one in your family understands why you are changing, growing or evolving, it's OK. Ultimately we don't need them to understand.

 

Becoming the "inner mother" to your inner child gradually creates the inner safety you need to be free, authentic, real, and receive all the good things you deserve in life.

Best Laid Plans

Friday my husband looked tired after a week of wrestling with his evaluation evidence report on top of teaching regular school amid changing schedules for student stress relief programs that ironically caused more stress for the teachers. I was worried. His neck looked stiff when he turned his head. The stress is not healthy. A couple of years ago this caused him to faint a number of times and the determined cause was stress and subsequent shallow breathing.

I spent the previous day recovering from four days of teaching and shoulders sore from swimming. I read a disturbing but compelling book, The Days of Abandonment, a novel by Elena Ferrante. I spent the afternoon on the couch lying down with my dog snuggled lengthwise beside me.  

Friday I had the day off and knew a storm was coming. We've had a week of torrential rain and a serious amount of flooding in our back room caused by a gutter blocked by leaves rerouting water in through the wall air conditioner. I had been sopping up puddles using every towel in the house and catching the waterfall using buckets that I emptied every half hour. 

I was tempted to clean out the gutter myself before the onslaught of the next storm but I was afraid of doing it myself. "That's dumb, Emily, that's how people get hurt." I have heard stories from friends who got hurt when they were home alone doing a move like that. The ladder was heavy and both of my shoulders have been sore and recovering from tweaks from heavy lifting (school bags) recently. I would have to wait until Bill gets home.

So I decided instead of risking the ladder on the roof I'd run chores. First off I drove downtown and parked at the library returning my library book. I brought Romeo for his walk; we walked along the river's berm. I spotted the homeless tents along the river and was heartbroken. The community garden had become a camping spot as well. 

I continued on and picked up my asthma medicine at CVS. It was cool and cloudy so I felt okay leaving Romeo in the car for a few minutes. Then I thought I'd buy dog food and pick up milk across the street so we wouldn't have a weekend of chores. 

I went up to Tractor Supply and bought the gigantic bag of food and asked if they could help me load it into the trunk. They said yes. When I returned I noticed that Romeo had eaten my plastic container of raisins I carry in my bag for emergencies. OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I should've put my bag in the trunk where I usually keep it. I am not used to driving doing chores with my dog. At home my bag is always up out of dog reach. Maybe I should never carry raisins again!

I drove across the street and I ran in to grab a gallon of milk, a bag of apples, and bananas and called my vet and left a message. After arriving home I phoned again and they said they were overbooked. They suggested a few places. I started hyperventilating because I was reading about toxic reactions and kidney failure in dogs that eat raisins. I called another local vet clinic and the receptionist said "you're okay, breathe, you have time." She suggested an urgent care vet facility. I was trembling from head to toe. I called. I made an appointment. I looked up directions. I put out towels and buckets in case the rain returns. And we left. During the drive Romeo was chill and content although maybe picking up on my anxiety.

The rain became torrential and I got all turned around in Mall Land. I phoned the clinic and they gave me directions. Go straight and turn at the hot tub place. Typical Rhode Island, navigating by landmark. Did they really think I knew where the hot tub place was? The rain was torrential. Anxiety was obscuring my ability to focus. My whole body shook and I got turned around again and phoned again. I made a few traffic violations, being in the wrong lane and entering a mall exit. But I made it on time, 1:29 for the 1:30 appointment. I was still shaking like a leaf.

The vet gave Romeo something so he'd vomit and explained the uncertainty of raisin toxicity. In some dogs there's no reaction and in others it's toxic. We would have to wait and see. Ideally he should be on a 48-hour watch at a 24-hour hospital but that would cost about $2,000, the vet explained. I panicked even more when they showed me the bill for what they planned for today. I must've blanched. I asked if I could continue this process with my own vet tomorrow. Just the vomit medicine procedure today, and the subsequent blood tests at my vet, please? They agreed. 

I scheduled a follow-up blood test for this morning with my vet's clinic. Meanwhile Romeo was doing fine. We fed him pressure-cooked boneless chicken breast and white rice to counter the potential nausea from the vomit inducing medicine. He loved his dinner.

Today Romeo is still doing great. We had a blood test this morning at my vet's. It revealed that he is in good shape and everything is normal. So far. We have another final blood test Monday at the 72 hour mark. I hope he continues to thrive without symptoms. I am hopeful too, the vet said.

The National Nightmare

 ICE agents detain one, two others arrested during chaotic scene in Worcester (Boston Globe)

Chaos erupted on a Worcester street Thursday when federal immigration agents apprehended and transferred a woman into an unmarked car as two other women, one of whom flailed at the car in distress, were arrested by Worcester police amid a large and unruly protest.

Dozens of local officers responded to the scene after receiving reports that a hostile crowd of protesters had surrounded a federal agent. One of the women arrested, a juvenile who is believed by witnesses to be the detained woman’s daughter, was forcibly taken into custody after standing with a newborn in front of the car.

The other woman arrested was School Committee candidate Ashley Spring, 38, whom police said had pushed multiple officers as they attempted to arrest the juvenile. Spring allegedly also threw an unknown liquid substance on them, police said.

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The altercation is the latest flashpoint in the aggressive federal crackdown to detain and deport unauthorized immigrants, including the controversial detention in March of Tufts University graduate student Rümeysa Öztürk near her Somerville apartment.

“I was horrified and overwhelmed, watching her be torn away and listening to her screaming,” said David Webb, a Worcester man who said he watched the juvenile be arrested. “I was kind of frozen in place, unable to do anything about it.”

Worcester police said they asked the juvenile, who was holding the newborn, to move away from the car because she was endangering the child.

“Eventually, she complied and gave the newborn to someone else,” Worcester police said in a statement. “As the vehicle moved away, she ran after the vehicle and kicked the passenger’s side of it. It appeared that she was going to run in front of the moving vehicle, and officers took her into custody.”

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The infant was not injured, police said.

Earlier, according to Webb, he had seen four or five federal officers standing in a semicircle around a vehicle on Eureka Street at about 11 a.m. One woman was in the vehicle’s passenger seat, another was standing outside the vehicle, and they were passing a baby between them, he said.

The officers “were wearing tactical gear that labeled them” either as agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement or the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, Webb said. Plainclothes officers also were on the scene, he said, including one with handcuffs and a weapon visible under his T-shirt.

Attempts to reach the Department of Homeland Security for comment were unsuccessful. Worcester officials said earlier this year that they would not partner with ICE operations and that police would not make arrests because of immigration status.

As the number of onlookers and residents grew, Webb said, about 30 to 40 Worcester police officers arrived as the crowd became more agitated, demanding to know if the agents had a warrant and breaking into a prayer of protection for the family.

Protesters pressed close to police and agents during the confrontation, many holding phones aloft to record the scene. As the distraught woman approaching the unmarked SUV was being subdued, one video showed, police adamantly ordered onlookers to back off. Swarms of police and protesters moved back and forth in clusters across the street, with some residents rushing to the latest flare-up.

---

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A woman who posted several videos of the altercation added a scathing critique of the incident.

“Is this what you support?” she asked in the post. “A mom being separated from her baby? In our own neighborhood? This saddens me so much to have witnessed this!”

Another video posted by the woman shows what appears to be Worcester police forcibly pulling the distraught woman away from the SUV. The vehicle moved slowly, and officers were directing traffic and clearing the street so the car could leave.

Worcester police said they also had received a call “that ICE officers were on scene and refusing to show a warrant to the crowd. Worcester Police officers responded to preserve the peace and prevent anyone from being injured.”

When officers arrived, authorities said, “They observed a chaotic scene with several federal agents from various agencies attempting to take a female into custody. Federal agents had placed this female under arrest and were attempting to leave in a vehicle.”

“The crowd was unruly, and several people were putting their hands on federal agents and Worcester officers in an attempt to keep the vehicle and the arrestee from leaving. Worcester officers attempted to de-escalate the situation and keep everyone safe,” police added.

Webb said tensions escalated after Worcester police responded.

“They immediately tried to take control of the scene that another agency had lost control over,” Webb said. “They were quite aggressive and immediately tried to arrest people.”

Online videos and photographs show many marked and unmarked law-enforcement vehicles lining the street, which Webb said police had blocked to prevent the protest from becoming larger.

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Worcester officers “100 percent did support ICE and protected ICE,” Webb said. In addition to arresting the woman who approached the van, he said, “They escorted ICE off the street and through the protesters.”

The juvenile has been charged with reckless endangerment of a child, disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest, police said.

Spring was charged with assault and battery on a police officer, assault and battery with a dangerous weapon, disorderly conduct, and interfering with a police officer, authorities said.

“This chaotic incident is still under investigation,” police said. “Video is being reviewed and further charges might be forthcoming.”

Emily Spatz contributed to this report.

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Brian MacQuarrie can be reached at brian.macquarrie@globe.com.

Thomas Deininger - Trash to Treasure (In Tiverton RI)

It has been a crazy past few years, how have you been staying positive? 

I’m one of those types that needs meditation, exercise, proper eating habits and to do something creative everyday so I don’t lose the plot entirely (to the extent that there even is one).

What is your motto in life? 
I have a lot of mottos that get me through. Finding humor, wonder and/or beauty in the mundane or ordinary is the real objective. The unlikely miracle of this opportunity to even consider the concept is profound. 

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Alexey Navalny's Memoir

excerpt from Patriot a memoir 

book description

Alexei Navalny began writing Patriot shortly after his near-fatal poisoning in 2020. It is the full story of his life: his youth, his call to activism, his marriage and family, his commitment to challenging a world super-power determined to silence him, and his total conviction that change cannot be resisted—and will come.

In vivid, page-turning detail, including never-before-seen correspondence from prison, Navalny recounts, among other things, his political career, the many attempts on his life, and the lives of the people closest to him, and the relentless campaign he and his team waged against an increasingly dictatorial regime.

Written with the passion, wit, candor, and bravery for which he was justly acclaimed, Patriot is Navalny’s final letter to the world: a moving account of his last years spent in the most brutal prison on earth; a reminder of why the principles of individual freedom matter so deeply; and a rousing call to continue the work for which he sacrificed his life.

“This book is a testament not only to Alexei’s life, but to his unwavering commitment to the fight against dictatorship—a fight he gave everything for, including his life. Through its pages, readers will come to know the man I loved deeply—a man of profound integrity and unyielding courage. Sharing his story will not only honor his memory but also inspire others to stand up for what is right and to never lose sight of the values that truly matter.” —Yulia Navalnaya

The Dissident

A news-driven biography of Vladimir Putin’s nemesis Alexey Navalny— lawyer, blogger, anti-corruption crusader, protest organizer, political opposition leader, mayoral and presidential candidate, campaign strategist, provocateur, poisoning victim, dissident, and now, prisoner of conscience and anti-war crusader. THE DISSIDENT is the story of how one fearless man, offended by the dishonesty and criminality of the Russian political system, mounted a relentless opposition movement and became President Vladimir Putin’s most formidable rival—so despised that the Russian leader makes a point of never uttering Navalny’s name.

There’s an old saying that Russia without corruption isn’t Russia. Alexey Navalny refuses to accept this proposition. His stubborn insistence that Russians can defy the stereotype and create an entirely different country made him such a threat to Putin that the Kremlin wanted him exiled—or dead—and now seems intent on keeping him locked in a prison colony for decades. 

International correspondent David M. Herszenhorn, weaves together the threads of Navalny’s remarkable life and Riveting and complex, THE DISSIDENT introduces readers to modern Russia’s greatest agitator, a man willing to sacrifice his freedom—and even his own life—to build the decent, democratic country he wants to live in and hopes to pass on to his children.

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