Surrendering to the scarf


Today I took a selfie to post for a couple of reasons. The first: If all goes as planned, tomorrow my hair will FINALLY again be a few inches shorter and the mess I’ve made of my bangs over the last eight months will be corrected.

The second: I’m finally giving in to the idea of using a scarf on days like this. I have beautiful knitted/crocheted scarves that were gifts of friends, and they’re great when winter hits for its short season in Houston. Those scarves are too thick and heavy for the brisk days of fall. I like this shirt–it’s an old one that’s the ideal weight for this weather and has the three-quarter-length sleeves that I prefer. The V-neck offers me little relief from cold air, however, so today I added a scarf. It worked just as I hoped. Is wearing a scarf an old lady thing? That’s fine. I am an old lady.

Somehow, all of this brought me full circle to a post that’s been percolating in my brain provoked by a quote I recently read about kindness. Some of it is based on a thought I had yesterday in reaction to a news story: It’s like six years of an abusive relationship has suddenly spun itself into an infinite loop. It was the “six years” that startled me. It’s the number of years–1980 to 1986–that I was in two successive (albeit VERY different kinds of) abusive relationships.


The writer part of me wishes for a way to weave this all together. The private part of me is not inclined to do so.

Is the scarf protecting my throat or warming my voice? Maybe both? Bags to unpack for days… Like the ones under my tired eyes.

ETA: This post has been edited because I erred in what I remembered about a quote I read, and that led to a discussion in comments based on erroneous information, so that comment thread is now unpublished, as well.

they wanted to go to school

A gunman opened fire with a handgun on the main campus of the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, killing three people and wounding two others before escaping. He was later apprehended.

Those killed were Devin Chandler, age 20, Lavel Davis Jr., age 20, and D’Sean Perry, age 22. Another victim, Michael Hollins, was shot but is expected to recover. A fifth victim, Marlee Morgan, was later discharged from the hospital.

Button Sunday

The Astros are the World Series champions. I did watch the game, but I also took a page from Lynne’s book (literally, as she gave me the journal I was coloring in, and by example, as she’s been coloring while she watched the World Series) and worked on the coloring page I started yesterday. I finished it this morning with the hour the time change returned to us. Writing, coloring, cooking, and cleaning will be my go-to things over the next few days because elections are hard on my nervous system.


(covered up what I wrote in my journal, because it’s a journal 😄 )

Hump Day

Let’s see. This week I’ve managed to vote (oh, the things I could say, and may say, but not today–except to note that the people who work our polls are helpful, upbeat, friendly, and I appreciate them so much) with Tom, Tim, and Debby. Tim was kind enough to take a selfie with my phone.

I’ve composed a two-page letter with 11 attachments to try to resolve a situation that has caused me abundant stress for the last seventeen months. You don’t want to see any photos of that–including how I look when I wake up at 5:00 AM and decide there are a few more things I need to do before that packet can be faxed.

Every day, I take on a small household task in addition to the routine bedmaking, straightening up, meal planning and cooking, and cleaning up after four dogs (who yesterday were stuck inside because it drizzled all day and it takes a village to get them outside in the rain, and I am but one person). Also, my Instagram posts take a little time to set up, shoot, and then put everything away.

Yesterday’s small task was giving the inside of the refrigerator a good cleaning and organizing it better. I’m not sure what today’s task will be–after I have breakfast and then take a nap since I woke up way too early.

I spotted this photo of actor Viola Davis this morning in my Instagram feed of accounts I don’t follow but show up because of other accounts I do follow. I think she’s pretty fabulous.

But what made me pause and screencap was that her fashion reminded me of an outfit I made for my first Runway Monday final collection in October 2008 based on characters in my novel A Coventry Christmas. Here’s Keelie in the same color palette.

Enjoy the middle of the week! Gonna leave you with this old Crowded House song I love.

Damages

This won’t be a cheerful post.

On this day, October 12, 1998, Matthew Shepard, age 21, died as a result of a brutal hate crime. I took pictures of a few of the things that are in my photo album/scrapbook from that incident.


Pages from a Time magazine article.


A local candlelight vigil I attended.


Flowers brought by Houston mourners to a memorial.

I remember that October as being a dreary, cold one. Maybe it wasn’t; maybe it just felt that way. I was working in one of the worst jobs I ever had, for a group of the worst people I ever worked for. I remember sitting in my car in a downtown parking garage at the end of each workday until I could stop crying long enough to drive home.

I guess the date hit harder this year than normal because of today’s news about the judgment against the person who conceived and promoted the lies and conspiracy theories after the Sandy Hook school shooting. He’s been ordered to pay almost a billion in damages to the families of some of those who died. Like all con artists, he immediately denounced the ruling and began fundraising. People will send him money. They always do. I never want to understand him or the people who bankroll him.

I never want to understand how people commit hate crimes.

I wrote a poem about Matthew Shepard, though he’s unnamed, that began in my head when Tom and I were on a trip that took us through Wyoming in cold November 2000. I won’t put it here, but it’s called “Medicine Bow.” When I read it again today, it evoked all the sadness and imagined resolution I felt when I wrote it.

I can’t find words to write about what happened in Sandy Hook on December 14, 2012. I hope the families who’ve so ferociously fought the lies and the hate those lies provoked, further destroying their lives, felt some measure of justice today. I wonder if they can ever find peace. I hope so.

Duty, grace, loyalty, steadfastness

I’ve made no secret of my Anglophile tendencies or my respect for Her Majesty. For me, as for many, she represents a time when the generations of my parents and grandparents believed in doing one’s duty, getting on with things despite adversity, and striving to build a better life for future generations. I’m aware that the past is problematic and why. But I continue to admire stoicism and optimism and try to emulate those who lived before me who hoped to be better, do better.

After hearing of her death, I started saving the cartoons with corgis because I believe her love for and care of her dogs (and not all were corgis) often showed the Queen’s softer and humorous side. I may add to these as more are published, and not all contain dogs, but they are the cartoons that resonated with me.

Tiny Tuesday!


It’s been a long time since three of my old watches have been on display. I had to do a bit of cleaning and adjusting, but they are now hanging in the writing sanctuary, which is in many ways the most retro room of the Hall.

A closer look:


Spiro Agnew watch from 1970, Bicentennial watch from 1976, and AIDS red ribbon watch from 1990s

I’m not sure which of my other watches I still have, but they once included a Mickey Mouse watch and a Winnie the Pooh watch. I think I still have the first watch I was ever given–probably a Timex. I remember the resurgence of watch-wearing in the ’90s with Swatches, but I guess these days, getting a fun new watch isn’t a thing unless it’s a smartwatch connecting the wearer to the entire world. (Okay, Boomer.)

Choose your words

My writing break includes coloring and eating. I could have been cute and said coloring and crudités, since that word is all over the news, but I’d be wrong.

Why? This is accurately called my brunch plate. Brunch is a late morning meal eaten instead of breakfast and lunch. It’s often how I create my first meal of the day, because I have to take some medications on an empty stomach, and some with food, but all of them in the morning. It’s a balancing act, and I’m sure many people can relate.

What this plate is not:

No. 1–An hors d’oeuvre plate, also called an appetizer or starter, which is a small dish served before a meal in European cuisine. Some hors d’oeuvres are served cold; others, hot. Hors d’oeuvres may be served at the dinner table as a part of the meal, or they may be served before seating, such as at a reception or cocktail party. (Since this is my meal, not an appetizer, it does not fit this definition.)

No.2–A charcuterie board, which is derived from a French term for a branch of cooking devoted to prepared meat products, such as bacon, ham, sausage, terrines, galantines, ballotines, pâtés, and confit, primarily from pork. (I have no meat on this plate.)

No. 3–Crudités, which are French appetizers consisting of sliced or whole raw vegetables typically dipped in a vinaigrette or other dipping sauce. Examples of crudités include celery sticks, carrot sticks, cucumber sticks, bell pepper strips, broccoli, cauliflower, fennel, baby corn, and asparagus spears. (I have only celery and a dip related to this definition; the other foods do not qualify.)

These definitions were modified from Wikipedia. Any search engine can help prevent incorrect word choices. You may think I’m being patronizing about this, but I think people who don’t use words correctly are mentally lazy. I’ve been mentally lazy, too. It’s nothing to boast about.

This is one of my favorite ways to eat any meal: small portions of whatever I put on the plate. Usually, I choose from a variety of fruits and vegetables, along with a grain (for example, crackers, toast points, cheese straws, or certain kinds of chips) and a protein (like cheese, peanut butter, or hard-boiled eggs). I usually just name this plate by the time of the meal; thus, this could be my brunch, lunch, dinner, or supper, as applicable.

I’m not even getting into the inconsistency of how “dinner” and “supper” are used in my home region. I’m just going to sit at the table and enjoy the food. =)