Tag Archive | double rainbow

A Fulfilling Day

It’s been a good Monday. The sun was out all day and the moon just past full shone in a clear sky tonight. After using a new inhaler for two days I’ve had great energy all day. It’s amazing what sufficient oxygen will do. I made a delicious sandwich for lunch, a riff on a kale reuben using what I had on hand (see below). I enjoyed some meaningful conversations. And I exercised my right to vote.

There was a spectacular rainbow yesterday afternoon, and I happened to step outside at just the right time. It lasted a good fifteen minutes or so as the clouds shifted around and through it. There was nothing else that felt more important than simply watching it.

Something only one person knows about me is that I don’t like library books. I love libraries, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve come to the realization recently that I don’t like their books. I think there’s been a subconscious aversion for a long time, which first began to manifest after I got a kindle paperwhite eight years ago. I began to enjoy not having a heavy book clunk me in the face when I fell asleep reading. Then Covid struck, and I surrendered to my peculiar brand of germ-phobia.

I’m fine with garden dirt, earthworms, forest detritus, decaying animal carcasses, etc., but I don’t like touching library books that dozens of people have handled with their potentially dirty hands. Imagine all the places your fingers have been when you read a book, and you probably never think to wash hands before you pick it up. I’m a compulsive hand-washer anyway, to a degree which I recognized immediately when I went onto water rations last month. Still rationing, by the way! and very hopeful for a final resolution tomorrow.

Fresh sourdough yesterday

When Covid came along (I know it’s airborne but it heightened my awareness of germ transmission in general) I found myself taking an alcohol wipe to the cover of any library book, and I still couldn’t shake the gut-level discomfort of picking it up and turning its pages. So except in book club emergencies, I’ll avoid a library book. It’s a visceral reaction that affects only me, so I indulge it without much questioning.

I didn’t have sauerkraut for the reuben so I made coleslaw with cabbage and carrot I grew specifically to make coleslaw: garden wisdom says “grow what you love to eat.”

In a similar way, I had a visceral reaction to one of the statutory measures on the Colorado ballot that I filled out this morning, Proposition 133, proposing a mandatory life sentence for human trafficking of a minor. The crime turns my stomach and my gut reaction was to vote yes. But because my gut reaction on this issue could affect many others and not me, discernment was required so I delved deeper. It was the only measure I had any uncertainty about when I read through them on the Blue Voter Guide the first time and saw that most organizations whose endorsements I respect recommended a NO vote. None recommended Yes, and only two had no opinion, the Bell Policy Center and Western Colorado Alliance.

The official drop box at Crawford town hall. I filmed my deposit out of an abundance of caution, and will be checking emails frequently until I receive notice it’s been received. I never used to think twice about the security of my ballot.

Both said essentially the same thing, which instantly solidified my NO vote: There’s no exception for victims of sex trafficking who are sometimes forced to participate in recruiting or managing other victims; legal experts concur that it would not “meaningfully reduce the prevalence of child sex trafficking”; and “Judges, not lawmakers or voters, should determine an offender’s sentence. This measure takes away discretion from legal professionals who are intimately acquainted with cases and are better able to thoughtfully assess facts and culpability.”

I sautĂ©ed the last handful of kale along with garlic and red onion, all from the garden…

Another measure that forced some extra discernment is Proposition 137, which on its surface looks like a good revenue reallocation for conservation. But the organizations were split in their recommendations, with more endorsing NO than Yes. On this one I went with the Center for Biological Diversity‘s reasoning, and voted NO. Hidden in the conservation claims is the result that “it would actually allow for expanded logging and road building throughout Colorado’s forests.” Nope. We just don’t need more roads through the woods. Not good for wildlife. So another gut reaction, after some discernment.

…sliced some havarti…

Bottom line, I found the Blue Voter Guide extremely helpful in filling out my ballot, because it offers links to the reasoning behind the endorsements of so many organizations. For the record, Colorado Indivisible and the League of Women Voters both recommend voting YES on Proposition NN and Amendment 87, and NO on everything else. So if you have not voted yet, YOU BETTAH VOTE this week, and check out the guide to inform yourself and maybe switch up some gut reactions. If you haven’t already mailed your ballot and you’re voting early, you probably want to use an official drop box or deliver it in person.

…lightly spread the insides of the bread with mayonnaise and toasted them in the pan, before laying on the cheese, and the mixed kale and coleslaw, then grilling the sandwich til the cheese was perfectly melted.

Back to libraries: I still love and support my local public library! I keep my card current and use it on the eLibrary Libby, donate to Friends of the Library with an annual membership, and donate good quality books to their Cabin Fever Book Sale. I’m meeting some friends for coffee there this week, to enjoy the community-tended garden and as one of them said, “our being there and having fun would be good enticement for patrons.” Our rural county library has struggled through the decades I’ve lived here, due to county cuts and intermittent low patronage. But it’s always enjoyed remarkable community support and a committed and caring staff, and it’s an indispensable technology resource for many people in our neck of the woods.

Wren napping between my knees during a brief rest in a fulfilling day.

Rainbow Season

Though we are just entering a dry spell, Rainbow Season has officially begun in the valley. I’ve lost count of how many have graced our skies in the past few weeks. A full double rainbow is rare, and was a lovely sight a few evenings ago. There is much to be grateful for, even as another dear friend lies on his deathbed. I’m grateful that he is being well and tenderly cared for, and that his partner has such a supportive community. I’m grateful to have met the inspiring Hospice chaplain who was sitting with him this morning when I arrived, and took her precious time to converse with and comfort me.

I’m grateful Wren was allowed to visit him with me, and that even though she had some trepidation she rose to the occasion.

I’m grateful I’ve been able to spend some time with him these past few days, witnessing his strong heart beating, his tired lungs breathing, the body’s ferocious will to live; and reassuring him softly about how much he gave to this life, how he will now discover the answers to all the questions we used to ponder over lunch, how he will slip into the stream of pure consciousness. I’ve told him how grateful I am for knowing him these many years, for all the good he has done in this community, for the friendship he’s given me. I’ve told him we will know him in the song of the meadowlark, in the blue of the mountain bluebird, in the summer breeze; in the river cascading over rocks, in the tilth of garden soil, in the warmth of burning firewood, and in the bright taste of sour cherries.

In the midst of big things, I’m grateful for this tiny predator guarding the tattered strawberry plant, and I wish her as many grasshoppers as she can eat.

I’m grateful for my own will to survive, and to continue the daily rituals required to sustain the life of this body and soul. Chief among these is the weekly baking of the bread loaf, this time using a quarter local rye flour for a light rye; and the daily cheese sandwich, now packing as many vegetables as possible, including seared red bell peppers and pickled red onions.

I’m grateful for learning to forgive my own missteps and mistakes. I’m grateful for learning to return again and again to the truth of the present moment, allowing beauty and joy, sorrow and suffering, all that life contains in equal measure.