Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I watched "Out of Africa" last night.  We hadn't seen it in many years.  It's ultra romantic and appears to promote colonialism as a way to see exotic places.  Though that was not what Dinesen intended, I'm sure, and it does show the trap women were in who were not married.  Society is closed to them.  The coffee plantation aspect is the most interesting now.  Her hard work, struggle and perseverance  while the men around her were playing at being hunters, despoiling the wildlife for profit.  The reviews say Robert Redford is wrong for the part.  He doesn't even affect an English accent.  But since he is a schoolgirl's romantic dream, not real in any sense, I doubt it matters.  He is Redford.  Enough said.  It is Meryl Streep's performance that enchants.  The range of her emotions is extraordinary.  And now we can see that she's as trapped by colonialism as the Africans.  She has no power, even over the money from her own family, and men treat her like she was designed for their entertainment.  The film is more feminist now than ever. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I went to a matinee yesterday to see "RBG".  It has all the elements of a great film:  heroic lead character, terrific love story, tension and politics.  Justice Ginsberg is tiny but mighty.  And her success is a team effort with her adoring husband.  How refreshing to see the man behind the woman instead of the woman behind the man.  And she had her tragedies:  her mother's death when she was 17, her husband's early cancer, and then his final bout.  She clung to the law like a life preserver, and her faith in the constitution guided her conscience.  She was beautiful, as well.  Her love of opera, shared with Scalia, is legendary, and I see how her life mirrored opera in so many ways.  She's "notorious" now, admired by young women everywhere, and enjoying the fuss.  Her granddaughter shows us how inspiring it is to be witnessing this remarkable woman age, but not decline. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our younger grandson is having nightmares about bugs.  He wakes up screaming and sees bugs on the walls where there are none.  But it began with a real bug on the ceiling of his room as he was being rocked to sleep.  Our younger son had the same fear of bugs, well, to be exact, spiders and bees.  He's over forty and still doesn't like them.  Our grandson's imagination is working overtime trying to make sense of the overwhelming world he's discovering.  He likes cows, but their heads are gigantic and their tongues intimidating.  Super big and super little.  What a strange place!  When my daughter asked about a night light I encouraged her.  All four of my kids needed night lights, pretty much throughout childhood.  The dark is an ancient fear, and in the dark we imagine things.  I hope the little guy gets some relief from his sensitivity and relaxes, but all parents have been through that powerless feeling that we cannot allay all fears, no matter how careful we are.  We cannot protect our children from the experience of living in a complex, convoluted environment.  It's a big, sometimes scary world out there, and you can't fool even a toddler.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A neighbor of mine has Parkinson's.  She has an attendant with her now, and must use a walker, and I often see them walking down our street.  I always speak to her, and this morning, as I was complaining about our dreary weather she informed me she just got back from much better weather.  Where, I asked, thinking Hawaii or New Mexico.  England and Scotland, she replied, and we had a good laugh over that.  What is the world coming to if the warm sunny weather is in damp old England?  We discussed what she'd seen:  Edinburough, Bath, Stratford on Avon, and northern England.  She saw Romeo and Juliet at Stratford.  I countered it wasn't fair, I'd seen Cymbaline when I was there.  When we parted, and felt a rush of joy that she was still able to travel and enjoy new scenes.  Probably her daughter and granddaughter went with her, but hopefully there are tours and ways for people with handicaps like Parkinson's to keep active and stimulated.  She's a wonderful woman, and brave, and an ordinary hero right here four houses up from me.  Hurrah for not giving in or giving up.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband had a concert yesterday afternoon.  It's a small chorus and they had nineteen pieces they sang.  I thought the basses were great.  My husband is one.  But only a couple of the songs out of all really had me attentive and engaged.  Most were not polished, which figures when there are so many and they cannot practice anywhere all of the them each week.  The concert would have been more powerful if the conductor had picked only the songs really ready for performance.  My husband said the conductor gets bored and wants the variety, but I believe he hurt the chorus members, who are volunteers and not professionals.  He thought of what he was interested in, not what the chorus could reasonably accomplish.  Conductors have egos, but maybe it's good he's not continuing and the board will have to find a new conductor.  My favorite piece was "Solace" written about and after the Stonybrook school shooting.  It talks of falling snow and children falling and hands held out to help them on their journey.  I had tears in my eyes and my husband says he gets choked up every time he sings it, as do others in the chorus.  I didn't need spirituals after hearing that, or "Beautiful Dreamer" or "Mr. Sandman".  This little chorus is amateur and touching, and I think perhaps the conductor has not appreciated what a gift in them he had.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday was our son-in-law's birthday, and we gathered at a nearby park for snacks and cake.  The children had a close play structure and lots of grass for kicking balls and bean bag toss.  The adults were in charge of keeping said kids alive.  A few close calls, but no disasters.  My two grandsons were there, not knowing exactly what to do with each other, but getting more comfortable each time they are together.  Both stuffed cake in their mouths with pure abandon.  Luckily, there was watermelon and strawberries and cheese and crackers.  Neither likes the veggie sticks, which are supposed to fool them into believing they are eating potato chips.  Then my older grandson, his parents and I walked to the small lake looking for Yortle the Tortle but did not see any turtles at all.  There were fish, and two lovely lilies on the lily pads.  We saw the beach, closed because of bacteria yet again.  The struggle of this little lake to be healthy is ongoing.  We returned to the picnic table for more bungling and socializing and saying goodbye to family until the next outing.  I treasure these get togethers, and know they are the jewels of my life.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I notice as I grow older I'm more disoriented when I return from a trip.  I have a mental fatigue I didn't used to feel.  I'm not quite sure where the bathroom is in the middle of the night, and I need to make lists to pretend to get my life back under control.  My body doesn't take kindly to different beds and pillows, even sounds in the background alert me in a more pressing way.  I plunged into babysitting and cooking and laundry, but I really wasn't quite ready.  Even the environment was a shock.  I'd visited emerald green, blossoming, humid and damp climates and now the greens here seem grayish and the air dryer and the earth harder.  Don't get me wrong.  I live in a glorious place, but I was comparing, I guess, which never does any good.  I can't quite adjust back yet.  It's only been five days, less even, so I'm perhaps too impatient.  It's better to notice my reaction, anyway, and maybe cut myself more slack.  Even a baby trip is wearing, as it turns out!