Musings of the Goddess - Danu

Rollover Rover

2011-11-29T11:05:00.000-08:00

Rollover Rover
by Brandy Larson

I was dozing and dreaming under a leafless tree with my best friend Flicka here at the OK Corral. We were glad the trail riding season was pretty much over. So many hot, long days and clueless riders.

She drove in with a car full of mutts, as usual. I was saddled up for her pleasure. She’d brought a couple of apples for me, but this late in the year kindness will only get you so far. As usual, her collie pup was jumping up like he thought he should be riding on top with her. So far as I know no one has invented a dogie side saddle.

We moved out and I was walking a slowly as I could as the dog pack spread out into the underbrush. I made sure to pass under every low hanging branch I could see, but she just laughed and called me a bad boy.

When we finally got out to the meadow she used the reins to whip me lightly on the neck, an annoyance more than anything, while giving me a kick or two in the sides, urging me to run. Like that was going to happen. Quick as lightning, I threw myself down on the ground. She moved faster than I thought she could, scrambling clear as I rolled over onto my side.

She jumped up and looked me in the eye. I gave her an evil stare. This was effective and she walked leading me for some long, thoughtful minutes, successfully averting the galloping part of this ride.

Too soon she remounted and we turned in the direction of the barn. She finally got her little run in, as I took off like the wind - quick as I could - like any good old, rental trail horse should. Back at the ranch she told Ned about the rollover and said after that she was afraid that I might bite her. I hadn’t thought of that but will keep it in mind. He gave me a stern look but, so long after that fact, what could he do?

She coughed up some cash for Ned and herded her dogs back into the jalopy. I was led off to a stall for a little light grooming. Ahhh.

Well she never returned, no, she never returned and her fate is still unlearned… But I have a suspicion that her riding days are over.

Drop Box

2011-10-31T08:39:00.000-07:00

Halloween 2011

2011-10-30T16:58:00.000-07:00

Scene - Dane Co Farmer's Market Oct 29, next to the last of the season. I'd just been hovering around the Antique Apples tent eating my cinnamon bun as Towneley picks out heirloom apples to send to his mother in Houston.

On the east side of the Capitol a band of ghouls play. They are made up for Halloween with skeletal faces. We run to hear them. It is kind of a brass band with an accordion. They play Dem Bones, When the Saints Come Marching In and some kind of Mideastern tune, among others. The market-goers pause in their shopping for Indian Corn, gourds, squash and pumpkins - what else? - to enjoy the show. I leap out and start dancing wearing my black velvet witch hat with a stared black veil. I soon and warm up have to take off my jacket dancing in my t-shirt. A cookie monster has joined in the dance along with a couple of guys, one wearing a huge, fake Afro wig. We dance apart and together. Many people are snapping photos, but only few are applauding. I find this curious, and truly "too bad," so lead by example - to little avail. At the end of the performance the band leader thanks me for dancing and invites me to a Freedom March around the Capitol that was starting soon in protest of Gov. Walker's misbegotten reign. I politely decline.

Later in the evening my friend Ky joins me and I prepare my Turkish nargile (water pipe) that we smoke with Egyptian peach tobacco. I have a cat costume of sorts for him and a Gypsy outfit with a layered, more than full circle skirt decked with ribbons that match the various layers of the bright printed fabrics and a black camisole. I dig out a bunch of jewelry with the full component of rings, bracelets and necklaces of garnet, pearl and turquoise faience scarabs, finishing off with a fringed Turkish scarf in reds, gold and pinks and a pair of burgundy velvet slippers encrusted with beads and sequins. I wear a lavender Islamic skull cap with my golden hair hanging free. Sadly, no crystal ball (maybe next year?)

We head out to the Harmony Bar. To my dismay the place, though decorated for the festivities, if filled with Badger football fans who are witness to getting their a** kicked in the last 5 minutes by Ohio State. Soon the revelers drift in, many in costumes. There is Tinkerbell and Peter Pan, he is Tinkerbell (all 280 pounds of him) in a green satin dress complete with hairy decolletage and no need of bra padding with a 6 foot fairy wing span, his full figured wife is Peter Pan. He said she had made the costumes. He had forgotten his magic wand - so sad.

One couple are dressed in underwear over black tights with sticks of dynamite in the waistbands. It took us a while to figure out what this was - terrorists! - the "Underwear Bomber." There are plenty of sexy vamps of mysterious lineage flashing fishnet swathed legs in high heels - of course. Also Fred Flintstone. I asked him where Barney was and he said he was lacking Wilma - she had a wardrobe malfunction. Several sets of Blues Brothers move through the crowd, one who is amazingly(!!) the spitting image of John Belushi. There are witches of all stripes, many in wigs but lacking brooms - or cauldrons, and two devils with red flashing horns, one with a Scott (the cursed governor) Walker mask who is accompanied by a female devil in the middle of a large cleverly rigged basket that restricts her movement - going to Hell in an hand basket! And a full component of vampy vampires, one with a foot long dagger tucked into her waistband.

Honor Among Thieves is playing some spiky blues, complete with a fiddler. Bodies heat up the room, filling the dance floor and providing critical mass that still leaves room to dance freely.

A Halloween ball for all!

Oct 1, 2011 Marijuana Harvest Festival, Madison, WI

2011-10-04T13:58:00.000-07:00

A sunny Saturday. Perfect for biking down to campus. The 41st Annual Great Midwest MJ Harvest Fest is on the Library Mall (what might be called the quad elsewhere). The spunky band plays rhythmic tunes while a very mixed crowd looks on. A few brave souls dance here and there, including a couple of young "hippie" chicks. One girl wears a rainbow patterned shawl and long skirt riding low to display her slim midriff. De j'a vu.

There is a midway of sorts with vendors, helping to put the fest in festival. And today is also a big game day. The Badgers are playing the Nebraska Corn Huskers who are new to the "Big Ten" and will soon get their a** kicked. Both teams have red as their color. But many Nebraskans are wearing black with red accents, which they must do at away games, as are the Badger fans who must also have black as their alternative color (which, of course, isn't a color). I love red and black! Maybe black is new new jock color - I wouldn't know.

They stream through to the left of the band, some stopping to take in the scene and snap a pic of the poster announcing what this festival is about or listen to a tune or two. Surprisingly the smell of pot is wafting in the soft breeze. In other recent years this was not much of a feature. Though yesteryear it was not unusual for someone to be freely tossing joints off the stage and a couple of people moving through the crowd with ganga cake for sale for .50, or maybe even free. A lone policeman chats with someone, obviously not there for any kind of enforcement.

Fat chalk sticks are available and people have drawn a few things on the ground, so I make a yin and yang sign in yellow and blue. I had gone down to the terrace of the student union beforehand. Lake Mendota was dressed in sail boats bobbing at their moorings as the sun bounced of the waves. Many empty plastic pitchers are stacked up here and there now that most fans have headed toward the stadium. I had a brat (well done - the guy was torching it especially for me) and I got a pricey plastic glass of Octoberfest beer that I was nursing now at the festival. A gray haired woman (perhaps my age, but looking older, of course) was dancing with her eyes closed. A guy was on his knees trying to get a good pic and she skittered away, crab like, when she looked up and saw him.

Dancer that I am I did start to let the music move my feet and creep slowly up as the beat went on, but didn't knock myself out. I'd arrived late and started walking back to my bike at the student union with the last song. What did I see crossing the street but a half dozen young Saudi men dressed in white robes with traditional head dress. What next? Oh yes, on my way back up the mall two young Buddhist monks in red robes stand next to Memorial Library in the shadows wearing parkas to ward off the cool Wisconsin fall afternoon.

Happy day for the cultures this aft down on campus.

Refelctions on the 10th Anniversary of Sept 11

2011-09-11T13:11:00.000-07:00

I had a dream of the chaos that was NY City two days before the attack. I had a hard time making sense of the images I'd seen in my dream and of the feeling of dread I had when I woke up from my nightmare at 4am. Sept 11 was the one month anniversary of arriving for two years as a teacher in Istanbul, Turkey at Uskudar American Academy.

We had just finished our teaching day (7 hours ahead of Eastern Time in the US), and gathered in one teacher's living room at the the teacher housing apartment building. We sat stunned as we saw the second plane crash into tower of the WTC. Later I found out I knew someone (Berry Perkins) who had been in on of those planes! All the local merchants and the Turkish teachers at our school were horrified by what had happened and said things to the effect of "This is NOT Islam." All of them said how sorry they were for this terrible event.

Today I watched the ceremonies for 2.5 hours. My biggest regret is that Bush - W - was at the helm. I can't help but wonder how different the world would be today if Al Gore had been our president at the time - all the lives that would have been saved and all the money that could have been spent building instead of waring. We are a sadder and poorer nation due to the reaction in Washington DC at that time.

Bin Laden was right - he has destroyed us - but only because of the mismanagement and thus the cooperation of our leaders who were so lacking in integrity at that time. Still, the message of healing was strong today from NY City and the memorial is beautiful and an appropriate tribute. Rest in peace for those killed that day and - Live in hope especially for the family members and those of us who have moved through and beyond tho sad days. May God guide us to refocus on a wiser and kinder future! Peace. B

Bat in the House!

2011-08-07T10:35:00.000-07:00

A BAT was swooping around the house just as I was getting ready for bed. It was wonderful watching how he could fly and turn, but of course it was under a lot of stress. For one thing it isn't used to lights at night. I wasn't sure what to do since I don't have a butterfly net! It was madly circling arpund so fast I didn't think I could catch it. (Amir did catch two bats in the summer with a towel).

I stood by the front door with the screen door open hoping and praying and sending it a psychic message so it could just fly out, but the poor thing was on radar and didn't have a clue. I think it finally went down stairs to the basement, which is probably where it got in by the window I have open down there with no screen!

When Aslan (my 25# gray tiger cat)came in from his nightly neighborhood prowling he got his "pet on" on his favorite rug, went to his food dish and then STOPPED in his tracks. I'm sure he could hear the bat down there (inaudible to me). He walked over to the stairs and was poised there listening. I turned off the light and went up staris to bed. I knew that finding much less catching the bat in the basement would be pretty much impossible. Later I heard Aslan romping around the first floor. I was hoping he wouldn't trash anything in his effort to catch the bat. Of course I was afraid that in the unlikely scenario that he did catch the bat that it might bite him.

This morning no sign of the bat and no broken sculptures - thank GOD!. I hope it found the basement window and could get out on its own.

Part 2:

After Signe left her two person birthday party (complete with chocolate - cranberry cake) I settled on the couch to read and looked up at the bricks of the fireplace in front of me.

There she/he was. A compact, symmetrical little ball of brown fur and darker wings. Of course it was sleeping upside down. I was able to stand on the couch and gently nabbed it with a pink hand towel. I saw his tiny little foot. I wanted to take a better look and maybe take a picture, but didn't want to wake it up or for it to be more frightened than it was already being in a foreign human home. Of course I didn't want to be bitten by a bat! I carried it outside and gently placed it on the small rocking chair on my big Midwestern front porch. When I checked a few minutes later it was gone.

I'm glad I was able to catch the bat and let it free. Earlier in the day I was concerned that it would be hungry as I was not sure what food it might find in the basement.

All's well that ends well!

November Chill

2010-11-14T11:04:00.000-08:00

Here it is again. The dramatic, Wisconsin November - bare branches etched against the cold gray sky. The Canadian geese have long since departed, having already started their southerly trek in August.

Today a migrating cardinal pecks at the compost in the back yard. It must be a little restaurant for them. I see a pair of them traveling through in earlier spring and later fall. And an occasional blue jay. Although there have been numerous frosts the parsley is still going strong. The little tomatillos (garden "volunteers") still hang on the tomato cages in their papery jackets looking a little forlorn.

Today I'm cooking some cranberry sauce and will make my own birthday cake. I dreamed up a chocolate cranberry cake last year for Townely's B Day in December. Despite speculation, it turned out great, especially with a chocolate/orange frosting. So it will be a gift I give myself and my friends for our little "cake time" tomorrow. It's lovely to have the oven on this time of year, warming up the place. Steam even collected on the windows of the studio when I gave a massage yesterday. Cold weather is good for business.

Other signs of the season - the squirrels ate the face off my Jack-O-Lantern (!!) and I dug out my black fur, Chinese pilot's hat and mittens. Aslan, my big, male, gray tiger-cat, has put on his winter coat. He is soft and very sleek with an extra layer of fur and insulating fat for his nightly forays into the neighborhood.

Strangely, I sit on the front porch swing these days as I sip my coffee in the morning in a sweatshirt, nightgown, bare legs and slippers. I barely feel a chill as bikers whiz by bundled against Jack Frost, pedaling fast to keep warm.

I guess I am truly a child of the fall.

Long Hair and Witchy Women

2010-10-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

Monday, October 25, 2010
FASHION & STYLE | NY Times October 24, 2010
The Mirror: Why Can't Middle-Aged Women Have Long Hair?
By DOMINIQUE BROWNING
At a certain age, cutting your hair is considered the appropriate thing to do, as if being shorn is a way of releasing oneself from the locks of the past.

**************

One commenter said they think that long gray or white hair looks "witchy" on women - maybe this was a guy? What does this mean? That they are powerful, mysterious, dangerous or??? More power to the witchy women!

This NY Times article now has 1266 comments (the most I have ever seen on there, they usually cut comments off way before this point), so it seems like everyone has something to say about long hair on older women. It was interesting to read the comments made about women in the family and hair as something beautiful, something that many people had fond memories of. How women's hair was a big part of collective memory and individual identity.

Well, I have long hair because that is what feels the best to me. I had long hair since about the age of 11. My mom was always hounding me to "get a hair style" after I turned about 35. I did have it cut a jaw length and wore it that way for a few years, but after I went to Jamaica live in Jamaica when I was in my mid 40's, I just let it grow and it has now been halfway down my back for most of my life. Too bad that my hair is fine and thin as it is, but tho I am an "older woman" I am lucky that it hasn't gotten thinner as many people commented on in the article. It now needs a bit of a trim. My friends cut my hair which only takes a couple of minutes. After it is trimmed a few inches there is just a few tablespoons of hair as it thins out towards the bottom.

I started coloring my hair in the 60's. I was a teenager then when we lived in California and I wanted to be a "real" California girl. Tho I was only 14 I went ahead a did it myself without checking with mom, who rarely colored her hair. I used a do-it-yourself blond packet. (God knows that there were a million ads everywhere - Remember "If I only have one life let me live it as a bonde"). But after that I just used "sun in" which you just spritz on. It has always worked well for me and is fast, cheap and easy. Since I was a blonde as a kid, that type of coloring worked fine and looks pretty natural - or at least I think it does.

In the 50's the "pixie" hair cut was just the "thing" and my mom made my sister and I get one. I cried and didn't want my hair to be cut. I could take care of it myself and I tried to talk her out of it. No dice. But I did win honorable mention in a "Cute Kid" photo contest due to that hair cut - that and my chubby round face and pixie smile to match.

The last 3 years I stopped coloring my hair, but I am going to color it again in December. I did it last June for Isaac and Angie's wedding. Sister Chris was commenting on it - repeatedly. She goes to some stylist due to her thin hair and has spent a lot on color and cuts, but that era is coming to an end since she is retired and doesn't have that much to spend on what I would call a luxury. I have spent about $30 on my hair in the past 10 years (shampoo and conditioner excepted). For blonding this time I used Garnier "natural blonde," shampoo-in color for the wedding. It came out a little lighter than I wanted, but seems to have toned down to a kind of honey color which is generally what I hope for. The package said that the color would wash out in 4 weeks. It never did...hmmmm.

In Jamaica fair hair is prized, as it is in Turkey, thus so MANY bottled blondes there. And when the Turks see someone that they suspect has natural blonde hair, that is really something to stare at. (Staring is considered "normal" there.) What they expect is "true" blond is apparently truly "exotic"...

At Madison's Willy St Fair in September I saw so much beautiful, blonde, generally long hair on women or all ages (probably 90% of it colored) that was shining in the sun. I decided I would "do it" again this winter before my trip to Jamaica. I am going to try to avoid my white forelock, which I love. It was one reason not to color my hair recently, since my hair is now such a dark "ash blonde" that there is a good contrast that makes it more noticeable. In my 20's a friend's mom had a white forelock that I thought was so cool. I didn't think I would "get one" as neither of my parents had one, so was very happy when that came in a few years ago.

Of course hair is considered a woman's "crowning glory." In the late 60's or early 70's my mom grew her hair long - almost down to her waist. She was about 50 at that time. You could see the progression of the gray from top to bottom that was very noticeable as she was a brunette. I have a picture of us out in the garden with me holding out her hair out in a cascade for the photo. I think she got tired of taking care of it after a few years and went back to her shorter hair style.

I cut my mom's hair many times, she said I did a better job than a stylist. She cut the family's hair on the "old days" as a cost - cutting - measure. I learned how to do it by watching her and also from watching stylists cut my hair when I did have a "style" for a few years. Now I cut my friend Antonio's hair. Once many years ago I cut five, or more, family member's in succession one Thanksgiving while the turkey was roasting. The last head to be cut was my nephew Isaac's golden locks - he was about 2 and it was his first haircut. We have a photo of it somewhere. He cried the whole time.

Well, let's hear it for the witchy women, and hair as an object of memory, beauty and identity!

The Hail Storm - Sept 18

2010-09-19T12:25:00.000-07:00

September night - 4am.

We awoke to thunder crackling over head as lightning split the sky.

Amirs' suitcase was out on the front porch where it had been sunning. The rain started pounding down as we raced to the Midwestern porch. As we opened the door, down came the hail - beating a tinny, hard rhythm on the air conditioner still in the living room window. Aslan, our gray tiger, beat it to the safety of the basement.

We stood out there loving the hail bouncing off the sidewalk and street. Down came the leaves, ripped off the big ash tree on the parkway. The ground was completely covered. Lovely!

I rushed and grabbed my camera. I was in my night gown and slippers. I tried to get a photo but the screen showed black. I turned on the flash and edged out onto the steps, but it was pouring and I didn't want to get my camera wet. I managed one photo of a little hail and some leaves on the porch steps. Disappointing.

In the morning the storm sewer on the street was filled with leaves and the ground and street were covered with them. I checked out the back yard and the flannel backed cloth on the table out there was pocked with holes cut by the hail, even the zucchini on the ground and had been pierced! The squash plants had all but been flattened.

Happily some leaves remained on the trees. The ash turns a beautiful shade of dull purple in the fall.

Amir's Galant Rescue

2010-07-03T11:09:00.000-07:00

On Monday evening Amir and I rescued two raccoon cubs from the overflowing storm sewer on our parkway here on the Near East Side of Maidson, WI, just after a huge cloud burst. He jerked the two huge heavy iron parkway grates out with two hammers that we hastily dug out of the basement. It was a super human feat as each weighed at least 100#~!

And just in time, as flooding water had filled them to the top and the just little raccoon noses were sticking out - they were otherwise submerged. The mom had been crying out, and it is a haunting sound! She was chest high in the water where the storm drain empties by the curb. Then she was clawing on the horizontal parkway grates which tipped us off that there was something in there. Then the civil defense siren went off and scared her so she ran away.

I grabbed them with a towel as they hung onto the grate and put them in our cat cage on the porch that we use for Aslan (my cat) in the daytime. We covered them up with a towel as they were soaked to the skin and shivering maybe from the shock of their ordeal. One just hid under the towel but the other one was more adventurous and watched us with curiosity. We gave them some apple slices but they seemed to be too scared to care much about eating. We got a couple of photos.

After the downpour we were able to reunite them with their mom when we put the cage out on the parkway with the door open. They didn't venture out on their own but were happy to nose out when mom arrived just as it got dark. I'm afraid many other animals must have suffered in the heavy rain. Several streets here on in Madison were flooded and a few were even closed.

More "heavy weather" is forecast and it has been storming every day at some point, the summer Midwestern weather pattern it seems. This is great to cool things off but the humidity now is killing!

Phlox Everywhere

2010-05-19T06:14:00.000-07:00

A sea of phlox is blooming in the back yard. Lavender, white and pink. Some is standing almost five feet tall. It is lovely in the morning light.

The phlox has migrated into the part of the garden bed that was newly turned over last year, bordered by stones. What a mystery. How did it travel there? By wind or water?

In the evening its fairy breath surrounds you with its spicy-sweet carnation like scent. True it is a "common weed," familiar of meadows and immigrant of country roads and highways. I cut some and elevated it to bouquet status in a tall vase. It is resilient, lasting for days.

I decided to let the bountiful phlox have its week or two in the spring sun, coloring my world. Soon most of it will be in a pile next to the compost, making room for the utilitarian tomatoes and a few poetic herbs. But a few plants will survive at the back of the garden, preparing for next spring's debut.

Blessed by a Spider

2010-04-29T09:23:00.000-07:00

It's spring here now in the northland, but still quite cool at night. My windows are cracked in the daytime for air but the screens have not been pulled down yet.

I was going to open the lace half curtains in the kitchen to let in the morning light when I saw her. A bunched up brown black wonder, sleeping upside down with her legs pulled together on the top hem of the curtain.

I LOVE spiders. To me they are magical creatures (sacred to Native Americans) and good luck charms! I admired her dark, compact symmetry. I grabbed a jar and took a pencil to nudge her gently into it. This was pretty easy since she was still asleep. Some of these spiders are leapers, so I was slightly on guard. Once she fell into the jar she was on alert and scrambling around looking for an out. I enjoyed looking at her marvelous, extended legs. Since it had warmed up some I spoke to her gently and took her out to the garden in back releasing her onto a warm buff colored stone.

Since it got down to freezing the last few nights I hope she found a likely place to shelter.

Blessed by the encounter.

A Conversation with Orhan

2010-03-24T06:12:00.001-07:00

A Conversation with Orhan
March 2010

I was laying on a couch at the back of the books store paging through “Istanbul – Memories and the City," a memoir by Orhan Pamuk. One minute I was enjoying the photos of Old Istanbul, and the next thing, I just woke up. The beleaguered store girl must have closed up in a rush without looking back here.

I saw him before he saw me – a trim man in a dark raincoat wandering down an aisle. Just the two of us in the deserted store.

Since the best defense is offense I half shouted, “Hey.”

“Are you speaking to me?” the shadow replied, turning in my direction.

“Do you see anyone else in here?” I asked, jumping up and standing very tall.

He came slowly toward me. “What am I doing here?” he asked.

“That's just what I was going to ask.”

“Well, one minute it was evening and I was sitting in a park enjoying the lights on the water from the Bosporus Bridge, and now, here I am inside a closed book store!”

“You look kind of familiar,” I said.

“My picture was on the back of my recent publication, 'The Museum of Innocence.'

Disarmed, I recognized him. “Orhan Pamuk – amazing to meet you like this; I DO recognize you from that very photo.”

“Yes, it IS pretty amazing,” he said looking around. “I'd love a glass of tea.”

“Sorry, you're not in Turkey now. This is America , and as you can see, this isn't my living room. I've heard post modern literature sometimes deals with a non rational approach to time, but didn't think it could spill over into this world and apply to space as well!”

“Call it whatever you want, apparently I'm here.” We both sat down on the couch in the rosy light of the Exit sign.

“Well Orhan, if I may call you that...” Up close he looked something like a fox with his long pointy nosed and large greenish eyes.

“Yes, you can Miss...”

“Danu.”

“Miss Danu, then.”

“I finally finished your recent novel and although it was quite a feat, I had some problems with it. So I looked at some reviews and post modern literature was mentioned. This helped some. I hate to critique you - being a Nobel Prize laureate and all – and I loved your book, “ Istanbul .” By the way, could you sign this copy for me?”

“Sure,” he said smiling and scrawling his signature on the title page.

“But,ummm, let me ask you some questions about the ' Museum of Innocence .' I read in the media that you proposed to actually create a museum with many thousands of objects that were mentioned in this novel, mementos of the love Kemal had for his cousin Fusun.”

“Yes all those lovely objects he collected while longing for his forbidden love. Since you read 'Istanbul' you must have observed how my character Kemal's life and my own life coincide. And how many things, including the old apartment of my mother's and some of the objects presented in that book, also appear in this one. This is the thing - if the museum happens, not only will art be imitating life, but will BE life that people can see and maybe even touch... What do you think of this concept?” he said, leaning closer.

“I think your technique of having Kemal compulsively gather, sometimes steal and then present throughout the story these mostly common, everyday objects to the reader that relate to his tortured relationship (9 years of happiness, sadness and longing) was an effective way to show his desperation and to evoke sympathy in the reader. He collects this stuff and puts it in the old, deserted family apartment which was the scene of their brief love affair. You show him over years idolizing, hugging, kissing and rubbing these things on his body for solace. He feels the objects have almost a magical power to evoke the past. This was a successful technique that demonstrates his sad, romantic vulnerability and his effort to console himself - bordering on the cuckoo.
What makes you think the literary set - or others - will be interested in touring an apartment/museum crammed with; dozens of stolen salt shakers, matchbooks, old movie tickets and posters, Fusun's white cotton panties and socks, her many barrettes, bracelets, other jewelry AND 4,213 cigarette butts squished this way and that (indicating her mood) and labeled with time and place and maybe some other details, along with thousands of other such items?” I asked.

“These objects are meaningful to the story, to Kemal, to me and hopefully to the reader. They represent a kind of metaphysics, some starting as real objects crossing over into the realm of literature, and others created within the book. With establishment of the museum they cross back over to this side of reality. Looking at it another way, and I hate to make it too easy for you, but haven't you heard of Theater of the Absurd?” he said.

“Yes I have, but you were quoted in the media recently saying that now that the museum is being scraped together, and I'm sure it hasn't been easy finding some of the objects you included in the novel since some of them are from 1975 or earlier, that you have been having second thoughts about completing the museum. You even said that it maybe wasn't such a good idea since you are a writer, not a museum curator.”

“It's true,” he said, slumping back on the couch. “Like so many things in life and in literature, what may seem like a fantastic idea at first often turns out to be a bad idea, or worse, comes to nothing at all.”

He rose slowly, wrapping his rain coat around him.

“Yes,” he continued, “it will be quite difficult now since so much time, effort and money have been spent in starting to bring the Museum of Innocence to life – so to speak. And there is still a long way to go. But you're right. What started out being mainly fictional objects created to enhance the story, to illustrate Kemal's plight and to evoke empathy in the reader, will be better left remaining in the reader's imagination. And this way I won’t have to make, count and label 4,213 cigarette butts! I feel better already! Now I understand why Chance, Fate, or Whatever transported me all the way over here to meet with you tonight. Tesekkur ederim (Thank you).”

He gave a little bow and turned toward the front of the store.

I watched as Orhan Pamuk dematerialized just as he reached the plate glass widow to the street.

The Frozen Pumpkin

2009-12-18T08:53:00.000-08:00

Wisconsin in Winter. How do the small animals survive? It has been zero, somewhat above and below for the past few weeks. Today it may get up to 30 F. A heat wave!

I have an informal compost in the back yard. It provides some excellent soil in the spring. This area also attracts the interest of a number of animals.

My decorative pumpkin of October and November was still on the front porch this week - frozen solid of course. I know the squirrels and other animals like squash and pumpkin seeds. I brought it indoors to defrost and then cut it in half to make the seeds available to what ever creature might find them. I hoped they might arrive shortly after I put it out in the compost area, but they are used to eating frozen food.

The back yard is full of rabbit tracks. I noticed the rabbits had visited the compost area shortly after the 18" snowfall last week. They nibbled on the salad and other greens I had put out there on the top of the snow.

I just checked the pumpkin and so far no takers. The coffee cake I put out to the side of the compost, has not been touched by the fat, blonde eared squirrels who are out there nearly everyday when it is not winter, so it seems they are in semi- hibernation mode.

Other animals that the next door neighbor mentioned he had seen out there at night from his second floor balcony include raccoons and even an opossum! Who knew? I have also seen the dark mice, maybe they are voles (?), racing around the area in the warmer weather. They live very close to the compost, I think, to avoid the local cats who also regularly hunt there!

Last year I got some black sunflower seeds that I hoped the birds might enjoy. Alas, lacking a bird feeder, it was the squirrels that feasted on them, boosting their body heat with the protein they contain.

Right now - thoughts of the cave people who survived the ice ages. Here I am, warm in my home, so near yet so far from the cruel mistress of the frozen northern winter.

December - First Snowflakes

2009-12-03T10:39:00.000-08:00

Tiny, dry snow flakes are falling today on this gray day. It is finally cold as one would expect after a very warm November for southern Wisconsin. Some migrating birds gather in the bare trees by the yellow back gate to our neighbor Karen and Jeff's house. Aslan, my gray tiger, chirps at them from his post at the back window next to the red blossoming Christmas cactus that was once my Mother's.

Surprisingly, a light pink holly hock still blooms out the back window and a few Buddhist reds maintain, as well as the parsley and Italian oregano in the garden beds. Some burgundy colored raspberries were still on the canes right up to the end of November! A lot of milkweed - which I LOVE! - came up by the driveway. They are so common, yet so lovely and other worldly. What would you expect for the food of Monarch butterflies? A couple of stalks with the pods split, spilling out their downy gift, were on the ground. I picked them up and waved them like a fairy wand, as the fluffy skirts lifted in a light breeze and wafted on their way. Lots of the pods are left and love to attach to people as they get out of the car!

Behind my yard is a moped shop that has Christmas lights on an evergreen tree placed on their roof with a lighted moped mounted on it! In the night it looks like a large angel has alighted.

I have recently rediscovered Eckhart Tolle (pardon a description of "New Age Guru"). I hope to get his book "New Earth" from Towneley for Christmas. He is very Buddhist in his approach and I'm working at staying in the NOW, which is working pretty well.

Last night was a re-run of Wayne Dyer on PBS. One thing he said is something like - look around you and you will see the world that you have created is not what you wanted, but what you are. Another good thought from that program - Virginia Wolf said "Just keep putting the pieces together." This is good advice, as I have brought some of my stuff that has been so kindly stored in my sister Chris' basement up north since 2001 (!) when I left to teach in Istanbul. It must be sorted and stored. Since the house is pretty much full, I will have to make sense of the "pieces" and work at getting rid of some things which can only improve the Feng Shui around here.

I just moved a bag of my skirts from yesteryear, that had landed for a day or two in the prosperity corner of the down stairs here, next to my built in buffet. The phone rang immediately with two massage appointments - Mel, my longest standing client and Al, another guy who has been coming back from the same era - 1994, when I first set up in business in my home on E Washington Ave.

Going into the winter holiday season I am on low and slow, but have picked up a few small gifts and will make and decorate cookies to give again this year. I got a new box of cards at Target yesterday - a white dove on a blue background - with the message of Peace. I'm skipping a tree again this year, but have a lot of nice decorations that I will bring up to display later. The Christmas lights have remained in the living room - a festival of lights all year long!

Birthday 2009

2009-11-18T07:25:00.001-08:00

I now have had two months worth of birthdays! My mother Shirley said inside every "old" person is the young person you have always been. Looking in the mirror I realize this must be true!

It was a relaxing birthday which fell on Sunday. I made a carrot cake with help from Amir who grated 3 cups of carrots! He came up from Chicago to help us celebrate. Towneley hosted dinner at the Lao/Thai restaurant in the photo and we came back to have the B day cake. I lit a lot of candles at the dining room table and put 6 candles on the cake.

With Towneley, Amir, Antonio and Signe It was a party of 5. Signe gave me a hat box full of gifts including a book on Feng Shui, lots of wooden massage gadgets, a piece of silky cloth and two clear glass angel candle holders. T got me a vacuum cleaner(my choice, which I picked out), and later brought me a dozen pale yellow roses. Amir got me a fall bouquet and gave me a great massage. He offered to go shopping with me, but I had already gotten myself some fancy imported Provance Sante French Eau de Toilette from the Coop, so I declined. He paid for my new business cards instead. Antonio gave me a sparkly red agate stone the he found when we went to Cherokee Marsh. He is going to tumble it and I will wear it as a pendant.

I got cards from Dorset, T's mom, sis Chris, Amir and Tana and Brad. Aunalee called from Florida, Dorset from Houston and nephew Ben from Minneapolis and Chris from Iola. I Got email greetings from Isaac and others.

To me the number of B days don't mean too much. I am "fit," feel good and still look OK. I don't think much about "mortality," but this morning I figured that if I live as long as my mom I might have another 26 years, so that is a lot of time to dance, read, write, dream, travel and do anything else I love.

"Coco Before Chanel", short movie review

2009-11-12T06:44:00.000-08:00

"Coco Before Chanel" was a charming movie. The plot was changed from the biography I read (for example, the other mistress was not in the manor house) to suit the movie storyline. Childhood was just two brief scenes, one in a carriage and the other in the orphanage. The movie was in French and they talked very fast, so sometimes I missed a word at the end of a sentence in the subtitles. It showed her artistic development and the romance with Boy C (whatever his name was) the rich English playboy who fell in love with her and then bankrolled her hat shop in Paris. It featured her actress friend (who reminded me of Karen/Kadima) who was her patroness and brought many rich women to her to buy the hats she made (it didn't show the clothing part of her venture, which was much later). There were some scenes of popular French theater, and of course the amazing fashions of the time, which she never liked.

There were lots of beautiful horses in the movie, as Baron B, her main guy, was a horse breeder who played polo and raced his horses. There was a race track scene with the wealthy women dressed to kill. Baron B gave her his favorite horse in the movie.

The costumes were great - hers were plain of course - as she was rebel and this was her aesthetic that the House of Chanel was based on. There was one segment of a costume ball, a debauch, at the manor that was fun.

I didn't like the end, as it shows her sitting on her famous mirrored staircase at her fashion "house" in Paris (she lived there upstairs) featuring 30 or more models walking down it wearing her creations. This was a break in the chronology of the movie, as it happened years later, probably after WW II, which she "sat out" commercially. Other than this scene, all of the movie takes place way before WW II and maybe even before WW I. This fashion show probably happened in the late 40's (??), which was after the period of 95% of the movie and was "after Chanel," as opposed to "Coco Before Chanel" - the title of the movie. I guess they wanted to show some of the creations that she became famous for, many of which were lovely, but I never liked her suits which were her trademark.

Sandhill Cranes at Cherokee Marsh

2009-11-09T06:28:00.000-08:00

It felt like summer in November on Sunday 8.

Antonio and I drive over to Cherokee Marsh, formed by the Yahara River that is the mother of the five 5 lakes that make a chain here. At the marsh the river is short of a quarter mile across with forest on the other side.

Since it is November bare tree branches etch the sky. The meadows show russet, faded gold, brown, tan, beige, gray and combinations of all these colors.

Walking into the nature preserve we hear the distinctive call of the Sandhill Cranes echoing to south. We walk down the gravel path to the overlook and climb the stairs to watch the tequila sunset.

Heading back to the car a lone crane stretches its long neck overhead. We hear another crane conversation, this time to the north of the path. They were close by. We stopped talking and walking to listen. They take off, flying low in our direction. They veer to the east when they see us, flying away into the dusk.

September in November, Madison, WI

2009-11-07T08:30:00.000-08:00

Such a fantastic sunny day! I guess this makes up for the cold cruel October! Coldest here in 100 years.

Time to put away the Halloween stuff. Keeping my jack on the porch at night to prolong his life.

Doing the usual sunny day stuff - hanging the business and other laundry out. Pedicure on the porch swing. Later a bike ride?

Massage for month of Oct was the best ever! Yesterday a guy emailed for an 8 am appointment today - Sat- that he did not make - stand up call. Got up at 7 to prepare. Loved the lemony sunlight streaming in with the globe prism casting rainbows around the dining room.

Last day for the big farmer's market on the Capitol Square. Got some heritage apples there last week compliments of Towneley. It was cold and windy. Definitely an November day!

Many birthdays this time of year including Amir's (Oct 29, also my Mom's B day), and mine coming up. Treated myself to a Vervain eau de toilette from the Willy Coop.

Sent on some Wisconsin Maple syrup to Dorset Towneley for her B day Nov 10. T got the syrup. The postage cost more than the gift!

2009-11-04T08:53:00.001-08:00

A Muse, amuse, muse, musings...