IT MIGHT BE BULL… or not

Fresco found in Knossos palace, Crete, Greece, dated 1600 – 1450 BCE. And generally referred to as the “Bull Leaping Fresco.” It is substantially restored, repainted—much of the original painting had cracked off the wall. Johnbod has released this to the public domain.

Even if you never took Art History, you might recognize this mural, a fresco in an ancient city on the Island of Crete. They put it on the cover of a recent translation of The Odyssey, which is a story about people living in a different part of the Mediterranean Sea and at least seven or eight hundred years later in history… which shows how much publishers care about accuracy, but never mind for now.

I want to brag about my progress in NaNo, but first I want to carp a bit about assumptions made any people who should know better.

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‘scared to death’

Ralph Yarl is home from the hospital and recovering, “a miracle” considering he was shot in the head before the “terrified” gun-owner shot him a second time as he lay bleeding on his front porch. He’d come to the porch to pick up siblings but rang the bell on a Street instead of an Avenue—or was it the other way around? The shooter fired through the glass in the door. Ralph is 5’8″ and weighs 140 pounds. Perhaps he weighs a little less after hospitalization.

A fifteen year old girl in Georgia is taking birth control despite being a virgin because abortion rights have been ended in her state. She is scared to death that the law might require her to carry a rapist’s baby to term.

This month I have been thinking about whether a better world might be possible? I thought, maybe yes, and wrote a book to find out how. And I did not intend to write any of this post today. But there you are. We never know.

The critter on the right is what we call a sand flea. This is a big one, about a centimeter long. Sand fleas aren’t usually not around much except when it’s warm. The critter on the left is something else. The sun was out. Briefly.
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LIARS&ICE

Word count, dental visits, complaints about the weather, lies, and the lying liars who tell them.

I hope I don’t often complain about weather or climate, but any time the snow and hail wants to stop for the season is not too soon for me. It hailed off and on all day yesterday, and I am sick to death of it. A few plants in the garden are sick to death of it too. These are the hill back behind our house.
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GARY’S WOODPILE

I should have got a photo. I caught Gary vacuuming his woodpile.

Somewhere in this photo is a hummingbird feeding off the rhododendron that began blooming a week or so ago. I can only spot it because I compared my photo to the view and spotted the smudge. We’ve had snow since, but the hummingbird is still alive.
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NEXT?

Gary and I are working on our future. Eventually the upkeep and isolation of the Arch Cape house will be too much. Our sons do not seem attached to the coast—oh, they say they miss it, but they seldom come out to visit. Once a year, or twice. They lead busy lives. That means we’ll be on our own for day to day assistance with what we’ll need if we try to stay there forever. Shopping, repairs… No simple workaround in our unincorporated community and no fewer local political issues. In our 70s and in good health, we manage fine now. We did, after all get the new roof on and Gary spread compost. We drive to Costco once a month. I’d like to think we might become ninety-something-year-olds who manage on their own till death takes us. But as a compulsive planner, I’m not counting on that.

We are working up courage to let go.

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MIRTH & day 4

I woke too early this morning. That happens a lot these days. Sometimes I can get back to sleep. Sometimes I go to work. Lately I am knitting and revising my novel. Doesn’t that sound wonderful to myself: revising my novel!

Rain falling out over the ocean.
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AWP & writing and courage

A review of my writing and plans for April. No kidding.

“Vogue Philippines released its April issue on Friday and its newest cover model is an 106-year-old indigenous Kalinga woman, Apo Whang-Od, also known as Maria Oggay.” It would have been more impressive (on the part of Vogue) if this had been the cover of the US edition.

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