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Early morning light on Patrick and Marla’s first morning here. We went off to walk the river and have lattes at RareBird. It has been quite awhile since I walked along the river and it never disappoints. See what I mean.

It was too cold even for ducks and geese on the river….wonder where they go….

The lattes were wonderful to warm up to….not to mention all the jolly Christmas decorations filling the shop.

Before they arrived I worked hard to get all the butterflies and moths finished. Now I am a bit sad they filled every page of that section. Now what to do next? I think it will be birds by themselves…maybe an egg or two. Then save the nests for one of the two larger-paged sections. Anyway, here are the last of the butterflies/moths.

I tested out some new recipes for Thanksgiving dinner. Roasted carrots with cumin, coriander, cinnamon, pistachios and chopped dates. Smashed potatoes with leeks, rosemary, garlic, cream cheese, sour cream and parmesan cheese. And a different dressing using brioche, sage, shallots, rosemary, etc…all sitting under halved Cornish game hens. It was delicious. Only failure, flaming failure, was a cranberry ricotta tart. Inedible with its sourness. The conversation was typical Thanksgiving conversation….politics. And all with a fine wine.

The following day was putting the brown twiggy masking tape branched/LED lighted trees. Placing the glass pears,  handmade birds, stars and balls made from old book pages. The cats found it all quite fascinating. Then we placed a small lit up fake tree on the bench by the front door and finally a set of three iron reindeer grouped beside.

Patrick decided that someday he may want to try to do more printmaking and loaded up my etching press with its stand and accessories. That freed up the front windows in the studio room so we moved over the shelves from the window in the den. And then before they left early this morning I had the two of them help me pick out a seating bench for under the window in the den. They laughed and suggested that whatever they pick out should also fit in their own homes after a couple years in mine. Marla hung my last framed artwork and help straighten slightly tilted ones. Patrick fixed the handle on a kitchen drawer and decided he could fit in the screen door I bought well over a year ago and then decided not to use it. He has two possible places it could go at his house.

I may have run out of things to pawn off on them.

They also agreed with me that it would be a good idea to close in my little screen porch. It is only 8′ x 10′ but gets way too much sun and wind…so the shades do little but flap away at will. I will follow up on that idea after the first of the year.

Both Patrick and Marla said their three short days here was extremely relaxing and restful. All that is left is their towels drying in the dryer. Everything else washed and put away. They even took the leftovers with them. When they return in three weeks for Christmas, they will go to the house I rented for them just around the corner.

I have one new poem written this morning and plan on writing more later before meeting friends for dinner out.

I will check the mailbox and address cards while listening to an English murder mystery. Maybe a wine to celebrate a successful holiday.

Til later…

I love these early morning trips to the gym. Lovely skies that fill my head with ideas.

The other day it was this idea of writing a letter to the editor for the county newspaper. Then doing a follow up by repeating it on Facebook. The response I received was as follows:

three private messages from local women. all positive and one I knew.

several, well, maybe five from around the country, all positive and saying they share my view.

and many, many from other parts of the world, all sympathetic, all thinking we have lost our minds, and some sharing my post.

I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised by the low number of local support. After all, the votes to change America came from some place. And staying silent will send a message. And I got it. So here is the letter.

On November 6^th this year I woke to the realization that the America I’ve known and loved for over eighty years will no longer exist. As of January, 2025, this country will not only be controlled by the whims of a sex-offending, convicted felon with the mind of a petulant child, but the low-integrity sycophants he has groveling for power.

This is what enough Americans wanted for their future and the future of those of us who could see and hear what would happen and fought for the better option. Worst of all, those who voted for this were also willing to sacrifice the futures of their grandchildren – granddaughters.

The new president of the United States will take this country into autocracy, into fewer and fewer rights and away from the freedoms we mistakenly took for granted.

There is no chance for me to move to the countries I would want to – Australia and Canada. I am too old and have lived beyond my value to them.

So, I stay here. In this foreign country where I will be a guest. Where I will be polite and try to make eye contact with those who gave my country away.

The tears have ended as well as the anger and frustration. The sadness never will.

All news has been turned off as I retreat into my art and writing while I stay in touch with those who understand. Here I can take comfort in the fact that the past eighty-some years have been the best America could be.

They did remove the words “sex-offending”. I don’t know why.

So, I baked peanut butter cookies, did laundry, vacuumed, talked to family, went to the liquor store, and am getting ready for company at Thanksgiving. I will be thankful for the friends who give not only support but a bit of sadness for where America has landed. And because they are from many countries, New Zealand, Australia, Canada, Uruguay, England and more, there is a clearer perspective on the future of the world. And more surprise and anger at so many women supporting this new misogynistic system about to take hold.

I have been staying in my studio listening to audio books while I draw. Now I am out of books and waiting for more to become available through the library system of borrowing them. The cats are napping this cooler weather away.

And here are the last bunch of butterflies and moths.

I only have six more double pages to go and the section is finished and ready to turn over to start birds and nests.

There is an urge to start writing again. Only so much I can be done to calm the fears of older friends, Jewish friends, LGBTQ friends. Seems we are all trembling in a boat too small for this rocky sea. God, there are days when it is so easy to just hate people.

Any suggestions for audio books I might get through Libby, the sharing library system?

Now it is time for an Aussie red and toast to the men and women who offer support. Thank you!

Til later….

 

This morning I printed off my Happy Holidays cards and tipping in the prints. By next year it might be a requirement that all cards must say “Merry Christmas”. Evangelicals can now make demands without worrying about civil rights that were automatically taken for granted by non-evangelicals. I really hate this new country! Someone in the safety of living in Australia told me to “not let the bullies win.” She needs to understand that these are not “bullies” but the people my neighbors chose to control our lives. Seeing the key states turn red said all there is to say. We will be a country controlled by a sex offending felon and as many equally deplorable people that he can assign to positions of power. The price of groceries, gas, most consumer goods will be the least of their worries once “their hero” takes office. Not for me. I am living in a foreign land and have said goodbye to America. At eighty years of age, I have lived the best period America had to offer. My financial advisor advised me this week that my assets are safe for the next four years, and beyond. I am grateful for that. I am also happy that my children have safe jobs and an eye to what they will have to endure for the foreseeable future.

So here are my cards, ready for signatures, messages and postage.

Just before going to bed the other night, I saw this across the road.

I miss the moon from my old place. Nothing stays the same! Before I would call these changes, “new adventures” . Now I call them inconveniences!

Just saw a neighbor go by and called her back for some wine. I will continue later…..

Well, that was lovely. Now I have moved on to a red. She wanted to see all the pincushions of the trump movement. I don’t have it in me to do his latest cadre of sycophants. I consider his sycophants all those who put him back in office. Way too many to waste time on.

But here is where I escape along with audiobooks.

I now have at least ten more pages penciled in of moths and butterflies. It is so calming to work in this book. Seven more pages and I can turn the book over and do birds and their nests. Tomorrow I will compose a letter to the editor of the local newspaper. It is disappointing how many people prefer to keep their views to themselves. Still afraid of repercussions. At this time in our history, does it really matter? I would rather speak up than let others assume I am in agreement with the new world order.

And yesterday I went with a friend to the Tree Decoration Display in the local court house.

Every tree was decorated by a different local business. And everyone looked the same. There must have been a sale on flocked trees. Each looked like it was from a department store display. Nothing unique that spoke of the individual businesses. We gave our voting tickets to a kid who had his heart set on a packaged Grinch tree. I met “Santa”. He was a good looking Santa without the red suit but terrific vest and boots/hat. The odd thing was that he assured me that in 32 years of doing this he only had two complaints for preaching the gospel. Before I could say, “Make it three.”, I left. I thought Santa was to only be concerned about naughty or nice. But no, now you have to be a believer in the gospel.

I am worn down.

Til later….

A nice sky two evenings ago. I am taking the time to look at the beauty of things, but now only see how temporary it is. I read a meme recently that said, “I no longer look for the good in people. I look for the truth.” Yesterday morning while having coffee with the guys, one of them said to me, “Well Biden is still there in office, isn’t he?” And then he said something about China “bringing us Covid”. I responded, “Oh, for Chrissakes!” and left shortly after. I need to rein it in. Today he wanted me to know about Delta Airline sale on round trips to Australia for only $719. I told him I preferred Qantas and it was likely a poor idea for any American to arrive in Australia right now or for some time to come.

I came home and wrote poetry that I will take tomorrow to the second poetry gathering of the month. Someone reminded me I still can use poetry to put my feelings into. Another friend suggested I do an artwork about where the ignorance and greed of this country has placed the world. All I could think of is cut strings burning in a pile. So, maybe some other time.

For now it is poetry. This one for tomorrow.

The Scholar

The sun has gone down,

no longer casting shadows

across the desk where he

remains seated,

 

surrounded by books,

collected, read,

and shelved,

dust suppressing their words.

 

Glancing around he marvels

at all he must have learned,

then lost,

when the sun went down.

 

Actually I think scholars will become a thing of the past. We have become too ignorant and lazy to understand their value to society. I live in a different country now. Not a new country, but a dusty old place, smelling of death and destruction dragged out and presented as worthy. It is waved about as a fresh idea by the slimiest and most empty of human beings. And yet this new country loves them. Adores them. And waits for their lives to improve on the destitution of others.

I had an unbelievable sadness putting the name, Walz in the bin. Wasn’t he just the most decent man to come along and make so many of us feel good?

So, my blog discussions about politics will end with this one. All of that is covered in the news media I no longer watch or listen to. And that has felt good, very good.

So this week I tried printing the rabbit.

I did not like the background, so carved it away taking the top of the bag with it. Oops!

I tore up enough papers to print and test. Then got back to it.

Once those were finished, I went back to my butterflies and moths.

Today I penciled in several more pages to keep me busy.

I am waiting for my financial advisor to ring me back today with assurances that I will be able to continue with few adjustments to my assets in the coming storm of the years I have left.

The other night there was a neighborhood party…the launch of a friends book. I had a chance to meet a neighbor there was little time to visit with. Many in here work from home, so unless you happen to be walking at the same time, you miss each other. I liked her right off and asked her to come over the next day. It was a delightful four hours. She was telling me that she was trying to make zebra striped candles but just could not figure out how. I told her how many years ago, Gwen Diehn and I melted crayons and tried to do the same thing. We wanted candles like the wonderful woman in Africa who, out of necessity, got a booming business going making similarly colored candles. I had bought many, and then because we convince ourselves that there is no occasion special enough to use them, they stayed in a drawer. I opened the drawer and said, “How about these?” And talked her into taking two pairs home with her. Many more are still in that drawer with several of Lee’s bees wax ones. I hope she uses them so I can give her more…just to see the joy on her face.

I told her that when the despair of this country gets too much, just come see me, and we will open an Aussie red and change the subject.

All for now.

Til later….