I finished “The Half-Blood Prince”, 16 hours after opening it, a few hours after collecting it from mom. I forced myself to break it into two sittings with sleep between them, having learned my lesson from the pain in my eyes reading the last one straight through. Those who’ve read it, do feel free to email me to discuss.
sigh.
Filed by joy at 12:57 pm under life
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There are two workers downstairs, a older man and his adult daughter, probably just a few years younger than I am, and they are installing our new front windows. One more tick on the list of things making the House of Increasingly-Less-Pink both a better place to live, and a better investment for getting away when the time comes.
I fell off the blog-wagon again, but that doesn’t seem to stop my little notes to myself about things I mean to write up. Melissa visited most of last week, and we had a marvelous time, including going kayaking on the Allegheny River. This is a fun option considering that it’s far too hot to go to my beloved Kennywood. Pictures will follow eventually.
While she was here, I read that Khalid was abducted and jailed in Iraq. A few bloggers I read were posting notes in support/prayer for his release. I felt at a loss for words. I felt at a loss about it, period. At the same time, parts of the Patriot Act were made permanent. I remain at a loss. Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear.
Of course, the US is no Iraq. There is nothing in my life that could reasonably cause me to be carted off by any authorities. But there is that feeling you get when you look over any precipice or tall building, the vertigo that you know you caused intentionally, just to see how it feels, just to know that every bridge you cross is one you could, in fact, jump off of, into the freezing river, into the oncoming traffic. In fact, it all could happen here. For many people who aren’t as pale as I am, it’s already the current state of this country. I lean a little farther over the edge to make my head spin at the thought of the drop. It would happen so fast.
Here in my little life though, all is well. The house is going along, looking better every day. I have wonderful friends who travel distances to visit me, others who pop over for knitting lessons. I have work, and I have hopes for the future. A future which will likely see me leave this country, just to know if the vertigo spins the same way when living in other hemispheres.
Filed by joy at 10:10 am under life, politics
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Today was my former babysitter’s 90th Birthday, referred to by her full title “Good ole Blanche” among the ‘rents and I.
She’s a tough yinzer, utterly charming, chatty, complaining and sweet in a very tangy way. She speaks full Pittsburghese, n’at, makes an occasional simple pun, swears then apologizes, clearly not really caring that she says hell and damn rather often. For the last few years since I’ve been back in Pittsburgh, mom and I have picked her up for her birthday, taken her to the cemetery to visit her mom, dad, and a few relatives, then out to lunch. She’s much shorter than I remember her being, but that’s part of being older, both on her part and mine. Her legs are more wobbly, and her bunions are worse. She single-handedly scared me straight about wearing shoes that don’t fit well. “When yer feet hurt, everything hurts. You’ll see when you get old like me. You’ll see,” she’d repeat, showing me her hammer toes. She still has long fingernails, which on occasion, would be used to pinch an ill-behaved little me. Her hands are delicate as she’s (kinda loudly) showing and telling me about getting her finger caught in the car door two weeks back. She now walks with a cane, and that little hand shakes a bit when helped on the uneven grass at the graves. Her hearing is going, but her eyes are sharp. She still reads books and newspapers, and is quick to tell her opinions on everything from that billboard she’s spotted, to chewing lettuce, to the odd state of the world today, “I tell ya.” The lettuce thing is a big deal since she lost her bottom dentures a few years back and only has the tops. This comes up rather a lot, actually.
Taking care of me from essentially birth ’til I was old enough to be a self-sufficient (and probably precocious) latchkey kid was the best job she ever had. She loves us like a second family, especially when her two daughters and all their crazy men and kids drive her to tears and frustration. She’s a beautiful, cranky old lady, and it was good to see her again. Still the same, after all the living she’s done. We should all be doing so well at 90.
Filed by joy at 11:29 pm under life
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We went to visit my mother’s family this past holiday weekend. It was great to see how the other 2% live. It’s a grand house, on a grand plan, on a reservoir made grand by the people who pay an ungodly amount for the houses around it.
Ignoring all the social, political and environmental issues, it was a really fun time. The pool, the lake, the boating, the fireworks…and of course, all my wacky family hanging around, razzing one another, drinking cheap beer, cooing over the latest baby.
I entertained myself with my camera, when I knew she was safe from uncle-antics that may have got her overly damp.
Ian from the boat, looking at another average house around the reservoir.
Filed by joy at 2:10 pm under life, travels, visuals
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In a dream last night, I hugged Tom Cruise for some reason (and felt comforted!), all the while knowing that I neither like nor respect him, but for some reason, the situation called for it.
Why is Tom Cruise on my mind? Though I do seem to having more dreams that I can trace to events that are of daily life.
Not long ago, I had to drive out past McKeesport to take the Kia to the dealer. I always get lost out there, which is an unrelated annoyance, but I do like the area I get lost in. It’s one of those old, very real areas of the rust belt. Gritty, familiar, hardworking and unemployed.
Over a week ago, I dreamt I was walking in that sort of depressed rivertown. It was a perfect sunny day with a light breeze. I was to be somewhere in particular, and paused to consider my path. I had an impossibly perfect view and could follow with my eyes the length and twist of the river for at least a few miles. As I oriented myself, I noticed a path down to a small, industrial island in the river (not unlike Neville Island) I walked along the Monongahela then, via dream logic, continued easily walking along thin edge of a moving barge. The river licked up to my sandals and I was careful not to get them soaked. I knew I had a long walk ahead and didn’t want to end up with squishy shoes. I continued along, enjoying the walk/ride and the sunshine dappled through trees. It was lovely, lush green and barely hazy, one of the few sweet early summer days.
The barge was pushing very close to the railed edge of the island. I easily skip-jumped back and forth as the barge slowly pushed toward the break in the railing and a colorful raft serving as the plank. I was agile and felt very free, unconcerned by the water or the potential to be pinched between if I fell. Once near the appropriate point, I readied myself to disembark the barge. A teenage boy spotted me from the port (if it could be gloried to be called that), softly ordering me “No…(pause)…now it’s in place,” just as I heard it scrape/lock against the cement surface. He was shy, but his buddy, a taller, brasher sort of frat-boy, made some comment about the shirt I was wearing. The shorter, shyer boy blushed. I smirked, feeling older and mellow, and kept walking along the cement structure, which probably connected above us to a bridge spanning the island and across both sides of the river. The under-bridge structure was rather elaborate, if industrial. I continued walking past a day-care center, only obvious by the bright colors of paint on the doorway and interior walls. I considered going back and asking the boys more about this place.
Filed by joy at 6:25 pm under dreams
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