Meditations on local politics

“Subtlety may deceive you; integrity never will.” —Oliver Goldsmith

"The only thing worth stealing is a kiss from a sleeping child." —Joe Houldsworth

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"A real Christian is a person who can give his pet parrot to the town gossip." —Billy Graham

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'" —Charles M. Schulz 

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“The kindness I have longest remembered has been of this sort, the sort unsaid; so far behind the speaker's lips that almost it already lay in my heart. It did not have far to go to be communicated.” —Henry David Thoreau

There but for the kick of conscience go I.

And we have a winner!

Remember this giveaway that was so wildly popular that FOUR(!!!!) brave souls tossed their hats into the ring, hoping to win?

Well, I have good, if belated, news.

Good news, that is, for one lucky, lucky chum who was fortuitously selected (thank you, Random.org) during his very own birthday season! That's right, Scott, you are now the proud owner of an original piece of art (unless you've changed your mind—ahem). Bless you! Bless your wall! You will be the envy of all your friends, me most of all (however, Rob won't miss it much). Congratulations! And happy birthday!

(Isn't that a great face? Dear Scott and I go way back to high school days.)

Now we just need to figure out when and where to hand this thing off.

Vive la D.I.!

Way way waaay too tired

Slow grape to dawn

I'm going to be up pretty late tonight, watching over a steamer filled with grapes and more grapes, those amazing Salem Himrods I mentioned earlier this week. I'd give up and go to bed but they're too close to their turning point, and I'm not interested in making vinegar this go-round.

It's keeping my brain awake to recall a dream I had this morning. Rob nudged me before dawn so we could take a walk by the lake and watch the sunrise. That was a welcome offer, even after another late night, but he interrupted my dream mid-story, and I really wished I could go back and finish the conversation before beginning the day.

I've lost the context now—naturally this scene was part of a bigger dream. What I remember is that Rob and I were sitting together, talking in a room, as if at home, and were interrupted by a startling BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! on the door. I got up to answer, opening it cautiously. A 20something brunette stood there, a girl I didn't recognize, looking very disgruntled. She had come full of bitterness to lodge a complaint against me, about something I'd written (an email, like the ones I send out to my Relief Society, I think? or maybe it was a blog post? seems like it was something about visiting teaching) which had asked her to... it was something about a hand... lend a hand? give hands-on service? help with some important work? She pushed the door open wider with her right arm, so I would have to notice that her hand was deformed, having only knuckles and no fingers. Her body language seemed to scream out, See! I can't do what you ask! I'm crippled! I'm helpless! I didn't know what to say to her, but I took her hand as if in a handshake, and then I held it in both of my own and we stood there, looking at each other. I examined her hand and discovered that fingers had begun to grow, like tender sprouts. They were still very delicate and small, but I could see that she did after all have something unmistakable to work with, and some power to do. In her next breath and to my surprise she softened and thanked me for challenging her. With implied intimacy, she made mention of The Thing that I had said, indicating that I should know exactly what that Thing was that she was referencing, the special words that had made the difference to her, and she wanted me to remember and repeat them. "You know what you said," she told me. I couldn't recall any previous connection to her, so I had no clue which of my words had flipped her switch. I could sense that it was important for me not to alienate her at a moment when she was obviously moving away from her sense of helplessness and disconnection. I tried to think of what to say that would bring us to the same page without giving her offense. At last I said to her, "But it's your story, so why don't you tell it? Tell me your story." Sadly, before she could begin, Rob was coaxing me back to consciousness so we could go for that walk.

And it was a lovely walk. Rob was such nice company and it was a gorgeous morning. But I wondered all day what that girl might have said if only I could have stayed to hear her out.

All things being equal

Equinox, a moment of balance. It came and went this morning at 9:03 a.m., while I was doing my morning study and meditating on personal liberty. Apropos.

The spirit of balance lingered today. I celebrated the even divide between dark and light by driving south with family for our annual grape-picking excursion at the home of some friends. Delicious green Himrods, those Utah beauties—oh! Soon my kitchen will be filled with the aroma of steaming grapes, and then we'll have the first provident bottles of 2011 ready to line the shelves of our pantry. I love the harvest season. And it's especially nice to begin refilling the coffers on a day of celestial balance.

On the drive down to Salem, I sat in the middle row of seats in my sister-in-law's van, next to my darling nephew, 3yo Finn. He announced to me happily, out of the blue, "Ga-ga, I KNOW you're gonna have a baby!" It seemed like all the grownups in the vehicle stopped breathing for a couple seconds, but maybe that was just me. I'm pretty sure this wasn't something Finn had heard from his parents, but I could be wrong about that too. Wherever it came from, I just laughed and accepted it. Why not? Who would know better than Finn? And who am I to doubt such an intelligent fellow? He made his powerful assertion again a little later: "Ga-ga, I KNOW you're gonna have a baby!" And then went on to describe to me how much he loves babies and likes to hold them, and I decided I would be very glad for him to hold mine once I have her... or find her... or him... or them... or... however this thing's going to happen. But I have it on good authority now; I'm gonna get one. Finn says.

Last year when we went grape-picking I was the beneficiary of another magical sentence, shared with me in a whisper while little arms were wrapped around my neck, a secret from my niece, Scout. Since it was a secret I won't share it, but it was a lovely shaft of light that came in through my ear and went straight into my heart to burn there all these months. I appreciate the tiny shiny voices of these people I love so much. I treasure their gifts and don't minimize them the least bit.

After today I'll be in my last week of my month-long garden detox diet. I took a Mason jar full of green smoothie with me grape-picking: it was lunch, if you use your imagination. There was enough that I gave everybody who was brave enough to try it a taste. Finn wanted a drink of it, so I helped him tip up the heavy jar and when it came down, he was wearing a Kermit green moustache. Ha! After his second swig, his moustache had grown into a perfect half-circle of swamp nog, plus a bright green unibrow from pressing the messy jar against his face. Pretty hilarious. I grabbed my camera but before I could shoot he'd sleeved his cheeks and was focused on the next part of lunch. (That green unibrow dried in place though, I'm tickled to report.) Scout saw me trying for a Kodak moment, so she obliged by taking her own big drink of my stuff and modeling the latest in lip fashion:

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." —Leonardo da Vinci

Listening, thinking, stitching, rambling

I was supposed to be at a very friendly knit night this evening but instead I'm home, sick with a fever, but my sticks and string are flying as I flop. I've got a gift to finish by Saturday. I'm set up in the shop, where my Rob is working late on an art project... a sound sculpture, to be exact. He's given me a chair to sit in near the center of the action. I'm surrounded by speakers and my ears and head are filling up with the nicest stuff. I'm excited to see (and hear) him seriously working in this new medium; I'm pleased and proud. It feels really right. He's preparing for a show and I think you should join us when it happens. Yes, you.

Late last night we went out for a walk downtown. We heard the most delightful squeaky fuss coming from high up, next to the alley behind the art store. It was sweet, funny bat music. What's a group of bats called? Surely not a flock, or a gaggle. What about a bite (megabite?), or a siphon, or a strangle of bats? Anyway, there was a crowd of them, making a tight little home together behind a sign. We stood there, peering into the dark, listening to them fret, hoping to see them fly out for their nightly hunt. Eventually, they began to emerge, one at a time, each one winging out crazily, many of them buzzing our heads. Bats! They're fabulous! They made me think of skydivers leaping from a plane, only they never fell to earth.

I think I'd like to build some bat houses with Rob. I don't want them in MY house but I'd love to have them as neighbors. I feel pretty sure their voices would end up in a sound sculpture somewhere.

Magical nevertheless

I love the way things happen.

One of these days I will write another real blog post. Will that be a miracle, or the expression of what was already a statistical likelihood? I see no difference.

Little Lap Dog Lullaby and so on

Listen to this new music. Way to make me more kid-hungry, NPR!

I'm pretty excited to hear the rest of Laura Viers and Tucker Martine's newest collaboration. Promises to be a sweet dip into the American songbag featuring lots of other great musicians. (Béla Fleck? I'm in for sure.)

Insufficient funds

One of the best pieces of advice I ever received: Don't let your mouth write checks your butt can't cash.

Saturated Sunday

Among other things it was a day of listening:

reflecting:

and preventing train wrecks:

A new season begins

We went out driving in the canyons in the afternoon, hoping for some first glimpses of autumn, and we were not disappointed. The oranges and red are just beginning to pop here and there. Oh! After such a wet spring and a lush summer, I think we're going to get quite a show this year. It will be hard to focus on valley life now that I know the season's color burst is underway. Wish we could hole up in some cabin in the mountains for the next few weeks and watch it all happen up close. 

I was too busy loving the scenery to think to snap pictures of it, but I did grab a shot of this osprey nest at the Jordanelle State Park near Francis. Ospreys are such beautiful birds (and like the turning leaves, not pictured here). We watched them for a long time and Rob managed to get some recordings of them, although there's noise interference from the road. What a gorgeous place we live in. I love Utah. I love how quick and easy it is to escape the city and get to some place magnificent.

Stuff I Bought + a Giveaway

So to follow up on this week's thrift store tour of duty, here are the few items I did bring home. Mirjam, this is at your request.

I can never stay away from the books section. Here's a great find—some terrific patterns at a nice price.

This one was more or less a blind grab, but so far it's been a fun read.

Ethnic weaving. Resistance is futile.

So, that's it. For the hundred things I snickered at and rejected, I brought three treasures home. I definitely get my money's worth of entertainment on these occasional trips to Secondhandland.

To give you a chance to enjoy recycled treasures also, I am hosting a giveaway. Do you recall the fabulous collage I blogged about in my first Stuff I Didn't Buy post? Well, the next time I visited D.I. it was still there! I figured it was meant to be, so I didn't pass it up that time. And now I want to share the love. Feast your eyes again on this beauty and tell me you wouldn't love to see it hanging on your lonesome wall.

So here's how it works. You've got until next Saturday, September 24th, at midnight, Mountain time, to enter the giveaway.  Leave a comment below and you'll be part of the random drawing. If you would like to be entered additional times, you can subscribe to my blog, make a noise about this post elsewhere, or do something else outlandish to squawk about this giveaway. When you do something extra, leave another comment and let me know, and you'll be entered again for this exquisite piece of fine art.

Good luck!

P.S. I will mail anywhere on Planet Earth.

P.P.S. You will never be able to fully appreciate how fabulous this collage is until you see it in person and play Where's Waldo, hunting for robots, cowboys, ninjas, Cheryl Crowe and Lance Armstrong!

Formative Music, I Kid You Not

 

Stuff I Didn't Buy 2

Remember this post? Here goes round two. I'm thinking that Stuff I Didn't buy needs to become a regular feature here on Bright Street. There are just too many awful gems waiting in thrift stores not to share the kitschy love.

Scarlett O'Hara plate, pretty as a picture (fit to be hung). A lady with shopping cart envy saw me with this and lamented that she hadn't spotted it first, what a treasure, etc., so after I finished taking this photo, I handed Scarlett to her with my blessing, and the lady behaved as if she'd just met the real Santa Claus. I'm a Christian martyr, that's what I am, a real Christian martyr.

No. Just no.

Wormy apple latch hook rug!

Impossibly overgrown acrylic doily. I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at Round One.

Oo! Ooo! What's inside?

Surprise! A deformed and neglected nightmare dolly! Quick, write a screenplay!

Half-truth: If this notebook had been free it would have come home with me, because look at the deep thoughts inside (click on pages for higher res photos you can actually read)—

Sauce, indeed. This is my kind of find. I probably just crossed a line, broke some intellectual property law, by posting this. Sorry, Kenzie Barrow. Thanks for sending your notebook to D.I. I wish you a happy, saucy marriage... someday.

Hand-carved ray. Maybe it could be used as a salad spoon?

So typical! Would you believe, this deer jumped out in front of a lady's cart, she swerved and missed it, but then I nearly ran it over while turning a corner? Why are deer always doing that, throwing themselves into us and causing accidents? Do deer have some vendetta against us?

I have this thing for buying jump ropes. It's really hard not to when I find them, especially when they have the great turny wooden handles. But I didn't buy this one. Good for me.

I was tempted, for a split-second, to buy this and send it to my cousin, Ryan, who loves bow ties and the occasional outlandish accessory. But he's not actually a clown, so I didn't.

Check out that Unique Dice Roller. Passports, check. Travel Yahtzee, check. Let's drive to Mexico!

 Butterflies are not free.

The poor little dead things.

'Nuther gift for a loved one, to add to her collection of odd round objects. But on second thought, no.

Do you ever wonder how somebody like Van Gogh would feel, finding one of his inspired creations serving as a mouse rug?

Okay, so I picked up this cookbook in a weak moment. My resolve to continue my month-long fruit and veg detox began to melt like the cheese on this glorious cover. Oh, me. For just a minute I hated everything that wasn't sharp cheddar. I'm over it now.

If I do make Stuff I Didn't Buy a regular blog feature, I think I should showcase a popular subset: Unsuccessful Baby Blankets. I often see them while I'm out thrifting. This one was done in acrylic oranges. Granny squares are cute by default, right? This one almost promises colic.

Crocheted in an even stiffer acrylic, this blankey had a more generally acceptable colorway, but it was practically Barbie-sized. I guess somebody was at the end of her yarn stash. Or that was some skinny baby.

Somebody must have loved this one once because it's got holes. Does that prove anything? How's my logic? Could it have been loved by mice? This handiwork made me mad because it sports a shrunken wool center, and the rest is baby acrylic. That's just wrong.

This was actually a really appealing find. What a cute green vent! If only I had a place for it in my house. Maybe I should move.

This is the sort of stuff some kids will lick if they think no grownups are watching.

Turkey candle.

Bleh! Ceramic angel heads! Bags and bags of them! (But one good thing, the heads made a great sound when rubbed together. Next time instead of taking photos of my rejects, I should make audio recordings.)

I always find it hard to say no to little plastic guys doing their murderous little jobs. Why? I said no to a bagful of fresh green soldiers too this time, not just cowboys and Indians.

This isn't kitschy, it's just a cheap jewelry box. I picked it up because it's a smaller version of the one my mom had when I was a child, and it smelled exactly the way hers did. It made me very nostalgic, and I almost bought it.

I unearthed this old clock part and it made the most amazing doi-oi-oing sound when struck. It really killed me not to have a decent recorder on me when I found this.

More pretty sounds I missed capturing. Phoo.

Six of these fairy girls! In all colors! Fairy friends! Why didn't I take photos of all of them? Fairies are real! Look closely, and you'll see.

Eraserhead baby. Extra chins at no extra charge. Scary!

Close-up.

Now, this looks like a genuine treasure. What could it be?

A dream come true! It's an old short wave radio!

It even picks up the Vatican!

If only I had $40 to burn, I'd buy that Golden Throat certified!


Thanks for taking this thrift store tour with me. I hope you enjoyed yourself, and go on a treasure hunt of your own. Take me with you!