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This is the evening of November 4th 2024. The promise of a red sky at night.

I waited and kept busy on the fifth.

Even made a new soup, polenta with cannellini beans and spinach.

And then this the following morning.

I took down my Harris signs before my trump neighbors were up to watch me. I threw my political pin into a basket out of sight. I tried to breathe at chair yoga. And along with this image, I posted the following on Facebook in answer to all the people from other parts of the world who asked me “why?”

11/6/2024

For those of you around the world…I am sorry.

Like many of us here in the not-so-United States, it was shocking to see the direction this country has chosen for not only the next four years, but long, long afterward.

This morning I have said goodbye to the land I grew up in, to the security of knowing we were special, we stood for principles, and a way of life guided by integrity and a decency that supported our long-standing democracy.

I gave my American flag away in 2016. Under the selfless leadership of the past four years, I almost, almost wanted to buy a new one.

I likely will not live through these next four years and the time it will take to come back to who we were. The last thing I want to flaunt is an American flag.

I now grieve with almost half this country along with the rest of the world for what we have done.

 

And then went to a bar for lunch with a friend who was also in shock. I schooled the owner on how to make a Bloody Mary with protein so we could call it a healthy lunch.

Then yesterday a new entry on Facebook in response to even more shock coming in from around the world.

11/7/2024

The grief has subsided. What helped, really helped, is convincing myself that I will be living in a foreign country from here on out.

This is a place that over half the population chose to make America, not great, but different. Not a place of hope. Not a place that recognizes the value of women. Not a place that will lend a helping hand to those suffering. But a place of misogyny, crudeness, and spite.

This is the new America, forged on the blind ignorance and grievance of a majority willing to be led by manipulation rather than use their own eyes or think for themselves.

I plan to adjust accordingly and spend what time I have left in a country that is less than America. Much, much less.

 

Then to my dermatologist where he had Trump coffee table books on display. (I checked to see if he was sporting gold high tops, and no, he wasn’t. At least not yet.) Also in his office waiting room was a man in a Trump hat saying a friendly hello to me. He recognized me from the gym and wanted to introduce himself, Tony DeSantis. I asked if he was related. No, but from Florida. He was very congenial and I worried that he was going to say, “How about that election!” in the same way people say, “How about those Dodgers!” He did not. We are now on a first name basis. Me, Tony, and several of the over 50% of those living in what used to be my country.

All of my news channels are now laying dormant in the television as are news feeds on my phone. It no longer matters. This is not my place to care anymore.

After another Bloody Mary lunch at the same bar, I went off to poetry. I put two poems on one page because they are related and only three weeks apart. The second I wrote the day after waking up to a new world.

 

11/7/2024

 

Here and There

 I will stay over here

  on the side of knowing

  that those over there

  have made the wrong choice.

 

And then this:

 

No Longer Caring       

Such a strange feeling,

this complete emptiness.

No tide within

pulling me toward

a need to feel

the passions of caring.

 

I am beyond empty.

 

Reconciled to this place below

the surface of believing.

Here I can let go,

release my grip

on the hope that others

cared as much.

 

The cats are oblivious to how much comfort they are.

And I am ready to spend the weekend working on getting good prints from my wood cut.

I had a dream last night and woke to commit it to memory.

An elderly couple who were good friends of ours came back from Heaven to help new owners of their house decorate for the holidays. They brought their favorite libation. When they arrived at their old house where I, my husband and kids were waiting with the new owner, my old friend broke down in tears at what was happening to her old home. The new owner was smiling and chatting about where to hang the ornaments. My friend sobbed. I poured her a drink and it did not help. The new owner, I think, represents the new order of things, not realizing how much she needed the assistance of those from before. All six of us turned and walked away from the new owner still asking in a very cheerful voice how to do something. We each realized that we can no longer help. It is her place now.

Wasn’t that a telling dream for some time after midnight in our new life?

I need to take a walk around the block and maybe ink my block up for a test print.

Til later….

 

It was a very busy week. Patrick came down to take me to Asheville. So sad to have to drive past the south end and see so much damage to Biltmore Village on the river. Favorite shops and restaurants devastated, We had a quick lunch at a place that gets its water from the World Central Kitchen organization for cooking and serving. Food was very good at this bakery/wine shop called Mother.

While Patrick worked remotely from here, I drew and painted.

Doodled around with Christmas card ideas…..

Boiled my stitched rocks in paste….

I like the feel of them and will do more when my fingers rest.

Now I am working on a carved woodblock Christmas card.

Patrick went home yesterday and took my old book shelves with him. They are now in Amy’s house. He also took a carton of children’s books and craft books that my work was included in. Some way back to the Lark Publication days.

I am going to make a soup for dinner…polenta, cannellini beans, spinach, garlic and parmesan. The picture looked good so I wrote down the recipe. Normally I would fix this for dinner. garlic crostini on spinach with poached egg and some scattered bacon bits.

We are completely worn out with the election coming up. There is such an abundance of ignorance and grievance from a large portion of our country. There is no reasoning with them when all they hear is an abhorrent little man and his petty, vindictive sycophants. We will all be glad to see it over and of course are hoping to see the end of Trump.

I am going to go have a wine…maybe with a neighbor,,,

Til later, when it is a better, more hopeful time.

Some lovely mornings here.

And early fall walks to tai chi. I seriously wonder if I am getting any better at this. Lately I lack the concentration. But I dare not miss a session in case I turn up hopeless the following week. I do think I am getting better with the chair yoga classes. Seems most of us are trying not to fall off the chair and keeping our right and left from becoming confused. The only problem with chair yoga is that it is at the same time as mahjong just beyond a screen wall. Their giggling competing is hard to tune out.  Women competing never get quieter while we try to simply get from one namaste to another and carry on.

Then a day of cookies….

Peanut butter and Anzac.  Just this morning I took some of the latter to the Australian running the bike shop. And because he has two small children, I gave him some Australian children’s books. Two of them illustrated by Graeme Base, a favorite Aussie children’s book illustrator. I never thought I would part with them. But the fellow who is making all new shelves and cabinets for the den came today to tell me everything will be ready to install next week. Naturally I got to emptying the old shelves that will go north with Patrick. I have way too many books still. It will be a job but all the shelves will be emptied and ready to wait in the garage till Patrick comes for Thanksgiving.

I voted this week. Number two in line for first day of early voting. I continue to wait for the trump-sign neighbors to get disillusioned and take their signs down. So far that is not happening.  WTF is all I can say!

And then burying myself in drawing and painting in my six-way book. Seems I am addicted while I listen to one audiobook mystery after another.

I heard from someone I knew twenty years ago. Her parents were both well-known wood turners in the town I lived in and came to an opening of a solo art exhibition I had at a local gallery. Her mother bought an egg tempera of a tractor and she bought a large collaged drawing of a hawk looking over her nest of young chicks. All the text written in part on this series of bird images came from my journal entries….small fragments of text.  Her mother died some time ago and the daughter who contacted  me wanted me to know she has the tractor and that the hawk still hangs over her bed. She has lived in different parts of the world and managed to take this work with her. I love that she did that and wanted me to know.

This evening I have been invited to an impromptu baked potato get together. It is my first. I am to do nothing but show up, drink wine (red, white or champagne) and eat a dressed up baked potato. Sounds fine by me.

The final proof of the Fairy Book came the other day and it is as good as it is going to get. Just the pictures in a book measuring six” x eight”. All I need to do is give the okay for it to be published. So in a couple of weeks it will be on Amazon with the others.

Tomorrow an Apple watch comes to replace my now glued together Fitbit. Also a new comforter for the bed. All my feathers that stayed put, decided a week or two ago to simply go to the edges. The part that is supposed to keep me warm is just two pieces of sheeting. It was quite old and simply gave up.

I will let you know about the potato party.

Til later…..