The Thought That Counts in Everyday Ramblings

Mid clematis on the flower clock. I posted a picture of this same plant last year but how can one resist the vibrant color. A good year for this variety here.

I had a lovely birthday. After the disruption of last year and being displaced I was so happy to be home in my own place doing things in my own time without any kind of interference.

According to the UNCHR Global Trends Report, “One in every 69 people, or 1.5 per cent of the entire world’s population, is now forcibly displaced. This is nearly double the 1 in 125 people who were displaced a decade ago. It includes the latest official statistics on refugees, asylum-seekers, internally displaced and stateless people, as well as the number of refugees who have returned home.”

One in every 69 people. That just blows me away. We might not know 69 people in our daily lives, but we know that many in our broader circle of acquaintance.

Yesterday one of the guys was saying that the word habit is derived from the word habitat and that means home. We develop habits and comfort and ease most often when we are home. I am so grateful for mine.

I was still feeling a fair amount of discomfort from my surgery on my birthday so I thought I will just teach and go to the grocery; those will be distractions. Then Mrs. Sherlock, who I haven’t seen in person since her erroneous cancer diagnosis came over with a huge bunch of flowers and a ripe mango.

We went together to the garden center I went to on my own last week. I picked up a few more vegetable starts and a small flat of colorful Cosmo starts and a chic little light blue metal watering can. The plastic one I have been using is disintegrating. She got some plants too and then I love this, paid for the whole thing with the gift certificate I got her for Christmas.

I had her drop me off at home because I had a League meeting on Zoom. I got all ready for that and found out it had been canceled but no one had told me, Juneteenth and all that.

Into the kitchen I went thinking oh great my whole afternoon has opened up and right then I get a Facetime from Walt. He had already texted happy birthday wishes so I was surprised. He asked if I wanted to have a cold drink at a local café. And I am like, okay… the café is two blocks from my garden.

So, I hustle, scoop up the Cosmos and my garden basket and watering can and head on down there. I dropped off the flowers and got to the café just as he did. We sat outside at at shaded table and talked about what we want for the nonprofit and a lot about literature and poetry. It was a gorgeous day.

Walt does this with his friends. He has a lot of friends. Interesting people, but I have never actually just hung out with him before. We talked about one of my favorite writers, Anne Carson that he didn’t know anything about, but she is his type of writer. Funny, eccentric, and deeply rooted in the classics.

I went back to the garden; it was empty and sat on the ground in the sun and planted the Cosmos and communed with all the other plants. This primula, gorgeous that I got at a League event in March that had been struggling was, and is, astonishingly starting to flower. That made me inordinately happy.

Then I came home and read and puttered and it was very relaxed. What I needed.

Yesterday when I went to meet with the guys, Walt shows up with this white rose made out of a napkin placed in a wire frame with a heart shaped base. It was made by a performance artist guy who hangs out in front of Powell’s books. He placed it in front of me on the table and told everybody in the room I had had my 70th birthday. It was funny and sweet.

Then, on the way home, with the rose in my hand on the bus, I was like, oh duh!!!

A few months back Walt had asked me to write a personal essay about yoga for one of the written Dialogues he sends out, which I did, and when I submitted to him, he asked if I wanted to add a picture. I sent him one of two white roses. I use white flowers, and particularly white roses to represent a kind of natural purity and spirituality when I visually try to represent yoga. He sent back a picture of a skinny white girl doing an extremely difficult pose that most people can’t do. It was the closest we have ever come to a fight, as I was like, no, just no.

The thought behind this simple token for my birthday was touching.

It was a happy one indeed, and auspicious for the new decade ahead.

Last updated June 21, 2024