Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, last night the heat really got to me.  My hair was wet with sweat, and sleeping without covers is difficult for me, and it just didn't cool off.  I could have gone downstairs, but I really doubt I could have slept there either.  My husband and I had watched a DVD, Hitchcock's "Notorious", and it's one of my favorite films of his.  So I spent my waking moments analyzing it.  What's not to like about Cary Grant, like ever, and Ingrid Bergman was incandescent on screen.  This one is crackling with sexuality, and the Code people wouldn't let Hitchcock film them in a long kiss, but he got around it by breaking up the kiss by them talking in between.  And since the dialogue is so delightful, it enhances the charge of the scene.  Their faces throughout the movie are a master lesson in acting, and the fact that they are both edgy and afraid of falling for each other makes their attraction greater for us.  These are flawed, complicated adults, with a lot of past pushing at them, and we root for them because they are real.  My favorite Hitchcock is "Rebecca", but that's because I loved du Maurier's novel as a teenager.  Joan Fontaine is really a little goody two shoes, though Maxim played by the great Laurence Olivier is complex and dark.  At the end, you really know they're not going to have a happily ever after, but Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman.  You betcha!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It was 100o here yesterday.  And there were fires, but quickly put out here, though a couple north of us are still burning but 50% contained.  I've had two kitchen fires that did damage, and long ago at the cabin when my younger two were still going up with me in the summers for a month, my son was burning pine needles and thought he put out the fire before the three of us left for the Ranger talk at the ampetheather, but when we returned, the fire truck had been there, and one little tree was blackened.  I'd trusted his Boy Scout skills.  Just as I trusted my older son when I took the youngest and went to 7Eleven to get popcorn, so we could watch Close Encounters of the Third Kind (fire kind more like) and when we returned after ten minutes, the house was surrounded by fire trucks.  My son thought he would "heat" the oil to get ready for the popcorn. Both sons were fifteen at the time, but hey, I've just been luckier with my carelessness.   I was so relieved the three kids were okay I didn't worry about having to replace a cabinet, paint three rooms, and wallpaper a wall. 
Fire is barely there and then whoosh.  It's like it's opposite, water.  They can do damage and take your life in an instant.  Respect must be paid.  So, yes I'm jumpy, but I have my reasons, and so does everyone else living in our state.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The heat of the weekend did spark a fire, but hopefully it will get under control quickly.  It's very quiet around here, as if people are holding their breath.  Today will be even hotter, and then some tapering off.  At least today the wind is not working against us.  I worry about my older son up north with his family, my older daughter way up north, and my two younger kids by me.  The grandchildren are especially vulnerable from the air quality, and I'm hoping it doesn't get too bad.  I never even had an air quality app on my phone until last year, or air filters in the house either.  But it's a brand new world, remade by greed, lack of vision and no discernible moral compass.  In this country I guess we are going to die hugging our cars.  We have caused so much of this pollution that we ought to feel responsible for the state of the world.  Why don't we?  Too busy eating hamburgers?  Watching TV?  Distracting ourselves?  If we are ashamed, it's clearly not enough to make ourselves the tiniest bit uncomfortable and act.  In the meantime, our leaders quibble and rant and posture.  Where is the will to save the planet?  I hope someone stands up and leads.  But who?

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We are in the middle of a mini-heat spell, and so careful about closing the windows in the morning and keeping the shutters upstairs closed.  I love the heat, but here it jumps 25 degrees in one fell swoop, so it's a bit of a shock to the system.  The ominous part is the wind.  Heat and wind mean fire, so all our antennea are out, with the frisson of fear.  So many ways for fire to start, either man caused or nature. 
We are going to the opera today to see Handel's "Orlando", and since I know I'll adore the music, I'm happily anticipating the afternoon.  Yesterday I listened to "Where Ere You Walk", a piece of Handel's, and practically swooned with joy.  Today's production is set in a World War II soldier's hospital, Orlando a patient with post traumatic stress disorder.   A psychiatrist is attempting to help him.  The directors tend to set Handel's operas in strange times:  prohibition, the wealthy in Long Island, whatever bizarre setting they can come up with.  The thing is, it usually works.  Either Handel's music overcomes the staging, or he's quite modern in an inexplicable way.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I spent some time this morning reading about crocodiles in the New York Times.  My 2 1/2 year old grandson is fascinated by the "crocodiles" (really alligators) in our nearby zoo.  Since I like the sound of the word crocodile better than alligator, though both are great, I don't correct him.  We visited them last week and two were sunbathing and a third floating in the water with just his eyes above, as he was resting his head on a submerged log.  I like the fact that crocodiles, when their mouths are closed, have overlapping teeth that seem to be grinning.  I like the shape of their heads better as well.  But either will do.  They are huge, everyone has a story about a poodle snatched from a grassy area in Florida, there is the alligator wrestling, which is absurd but real, and they serve, like wolves, snakes, sharks and tigers, as the boogeyman for many cultures.  But in East Timor, they are eating the public, despite the local belief they are ancestors.  They are ancestors all right; both crocodiles and alligators are from the time of the dinosaurs, but they split off and survived.  They are our T Rex.  I think my grandson sees them as monsters, but is curious and testing his bravery.  Me?  I must have a little bit of toddler still in me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's a sunny day and my friend and I took a walk toward cappuchinos then decided to do some errands on our way back.  I helped her pick out a card for her mother, who lives with her, to send to her granddaughter back east.  We decided on a movie to see, maybe tonight, and she asked if I wanted to take a class in October to write editorials for newspapers.  As none of mine ever get published, I agreed.  Then we discussed a class I'm signed up for for my granddaughter and I, and she may take her granddaughter as well.  We parted ways at the top of the hill, having challenged our quadraceps.  I'm sweaty but happy, as such ordinary things make me aware of my blessings.
Yesterday was all about the extraordinary:  the flower show, the art, the fascinator hats, the fancy clothes.  Today, a nice walk in the sunshine with a friend.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We went to a flower show at an art museum this morning, and it was amazing and delightful, despite the crowds.  Some floral arrangements were echoing the color of the art work, some the composition, some the figures, some all aspects, and others were a response to the artwork, without specific connections.  The creativity of the florists was extraordinary.  And fun.  Really fun.  We were forced to look at the artwork differently, and closely examine the floral arrangement and bounce our eyes back and forth to compare. 
Not only were the arrangements dazzling, but the volunteers for the museum had fascinator hats on the identify them, as they were selling raffle tickets to benefit the museum.  And then there were the ladies, ladies who lunch, with their big diamonds, their six thousand dollar purses, their fabulous sheath dresses and amazingly coifed hair.  I don't go places like Rodeo Drive to see this segment of the public, so it was a bit of a kick.  Some had children, usually girls, dressed in sister organdy dresses and shoes, who posed against the backdrop of the bouquets. 
It was all a little bit crazy, but like entering through the looking glass, to a world of artifice and glamour.  Fun!