Thursday, December 25, 2003

Happy Festivus!
Kind of a strange but quiet Chanukah..lighting candles every
night on a borrowed menorah, in a rented house...but it is
oddly beautiful and peaceful without the usual tumult.

This clay vessel looks like Noah's Ark, with the ribs of the ship...
Andrew Nagen loaned it to us, since ours is still packed, somewhere.

The feeling of living in someone else's house is abating, as we become
accustomed to new views and routines. It is surprisingly pleasant and
refreshing and we are getting very comfortable here, grateful for the
change.


(If you would like to see previous pages on this blog, with lots
of photos of Noah, click on Archives to the left and browse through...)

Friday, December 19, 2003

New Mexico Light Beam - Harmonic Concordance 2003

I received this link, which is a photograph taken of an unusual "light beam"
which stopped traffic on I-40 near the NM-AZ border, on the evening of
November 8 - The Harmonic Concordance - planetary conjuntion which took place
along with a total Lunar Eclipse...The reason I am posting the link to this
photo and the story is that I have had numerous bizarre occurences in that
particular area, and many other people I know have reported everything
from paranormal phenomena to near-death experiences along this road ...
I don't know if this is authentic or not, but I know that anything can happen
there.

I will have to write down the story of Wandering Eagle in complete detail
someday ... meanwhile, check out the Light Beam!

Tuesday, December 16, 2003

Sydelle
Sadie Simmaleah Fuchs Hutner

Sadie named herself Sydelle - and she was Aunt Syd to us.
Robert, Michele, Max and I went to Santa Fe on 11/29/03
for a memorial event, honoring the life and peaceful passing
of Aunt Syd, mother of Alan and Vickie, grandmother and
great-grandmother...and a firecracker of an aunt.
Simmaleah, we chanted, to her memory.
She died on November 24, and was 87 years old.

Our last visit with Syd was the end of August, when Vickie and John
came from Pennsylvania to see her, Alan and Elizabeth. My feelings
at that time about Aunt syd were that she was getting lighter, smaller
and quieter, and almost disappearing. I posted a poem by Rumi -
The Diver's Clothes Lying Empty which expressed my certainty then that
we were seeing her in a transition, for the last time. (If you click on this link
you can go to that page, then click Back to return here.)

With Michele's permission, I am posting her thoughts on her Aunt Syd,
which she was too emotional to read at the memorial. I think it is
a wonderful memory of a woman who was very much alive, Sadie
Simmaleah Sydelle.

FOR AUNT SYD
NOVEMBER 29, 2003

Tootsie worked at Hanes' Willow Grove store with Aunt Syd. Tootsie's name,
I came to find out years later, was Jane. But apparently, when Tootsie was
hired, there was another women working there named Jane (what are the
chances?), so Aunt Syd renamed the new one Tootsie.

I used to go in to work with Aunt Syd two or three times a year as a gift
wrapper-Christmas, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day. I'd make bows and wrap
packages, all for a BLT-that was our traditional lunch-that and getting to
spend the day with Aunt Syd.

They had flashers come in there, can you believe it? And transvestites,
whom Aunt Syd would fit with the perfect women's undergarments. It was all
quite shocking to me then, but epitomized the best of my Aunt-she wasn't a
stickler for the rules (what a relief in 1950's America). She had her
friends, Alice and Lois, the gay couple with the Dalmatian with one blue eye
and one brown..

My Aunt Syd lit up a room when she walked in, partly because she glowed with
energy, fun, and a zest for life, and partly because she dressed in sequins
and bright colors. She always looked "just so"-her hair coiffed perfectly
(by Bob), matching everything-heels, slacks, top, coat, bag, make-up. I
always thought she was gorgeous.

When you went out to eat with Aunt Syd, you always knew you'd get dessert.
She loved her sweets. She is the only person I know who thought you could
cut the sweetness of Pecan pie with vanilla ice cream. When she lived at
the Kingston, we used to go to the Red Lobster for lunch. We would always
start by sharing a shrimp cocktail, then Crab Fettuccini Alfredo, and then,
just as I thought I was going to explode, Aunt Syd would pick up the dessert
menu. We would finish our meal with the Chocolate Fudge Brownie A La Mode.
I don't know where she put it!

My Aunt Syd could add vast amounts of numbers in her head. You could write
twenty or thirty two or three digit numbers one under the other, and she
would go down the list and add them in her head, quickly and accurately.
She said it was because in New York, when she was little and in school, the
children had to learn their addition and subtraction tables the same way
kids today learn multiplication. Actually, it was just one of her special
gifts. Which brings me to Hearts. Don't ever play Hearts with Syd, or Alan,
or Vicki, or John. That's all I'll say.

Aunt Syd would call every once in a while with this brief message:
"Tomorrow night. Uncle Morris is making sausage and meatballs." The next
night, Robert and I would dutifully eat dinner with our family at five
o'clock sharp, help clean up, then dash through the woods to Aunt Syd's
where two extra place settings sat waiting for us. And on the table was the
famous avocado green bowl with the divider in it-one side sausage, one side
meatballs, steam rising. Wow.

Aunt Syd had her own sayings (Sydisms). Two of my personal favorites, which
I use often, are: "It don't owe ya nothin' ", which was to indicate you
were wearing a garment one time too many, and "That's why there's chocolate
and vanilla
" (or chocolate and strawberry, depending on her mood and the
situation). When I was pregnant with Seth and visiting, we got into a
discussion about turtlenecks. I said I couldn't stand anything up around my
neck, and she said: "Wait 'til you get to be my age; the neck is the first
thing to go!"

"Come early!" That was my mother's final word into the phone every weekday
morning. Aunt Syd would call on the phone to say she was coming-I don't
know why, she always stopped on her way to work to have coffee and cake and
matzo-and-butter and gossip with my mother and grandmother. The gossip was
half in English and half in Yiddish. It was great to be home from school
and crowd around the kitchen table with the ladies and their coffee and
their gossip and their laughter.

My mother told me that she was nine when Uncle Morris started dating Aunt
Syd. Syd lived far away, so after their date, they would come back to
Granny Annie's house, and Aunt Syd would share little Muriel's bed. In the
morning, Muriel would watch Syd put on her make-up-the beautiful big sister.

Seventy years they spent together, through bouts of illness, husbands dying
and coming and going, raising the kids, Family Circle, Cousin's Club, nights
at the theatre, dinner and dancing. They made the most of their time
together.

A good time, a good life shouldn't end up incapacitated in a hospital bed.
So, Aunt Syd, I cheer you on your journey. Say hi to Stan, and Morris, and
Granny Annie for us. We'll be along soon. Have a good time.

Your loving niece,
Michele


We are all deeply grateful to Alan Hutner and Elizabeth Rose for seeing
Syd through this * transition * and all the love and care they gave her
crossing through the fear and pain to a gentle acceptance and forgiveness.
Also thanks go to Bill - and Parvati - and others
who helped her, and Andy Gold, the rabbi who led the group on 11/29/03
with beautiful chanting and exploration of the meaning of it all, without denial.
<

...Anyone who would like to add remembrances or thoughts about Aunt Syd,
please do so using the *comments* link below...



Sunday, December 14, 2003

The Path Out



I took this shot of the field on the last walk we took, late in the
afternoon of December 10, after the house was emptied, swept
and scrubbed, so that nearly every trace of our 20 years of
occupancy was rubbed out. Everywhere we turned, there were
memories, but mostly we were just exhausted.

Max showed up just as the dumptruck was leaving, hauling off the
last of the broken things and junk from the yard, and we walked
through the house with him.

Here's where you were born, Max - right here! - and here's where
your brother jumped off the roof, and here's where Sandi's puppies
were, and Ana and Jody's wedding was there, in the pasture --
and the trees we planted, the fences we built...and how many people
ate at our table, and how many were healed here...uncountable numbers.

One more walk through the path of the field as the mountains glowed
purple. Max hugged his father and thanked him, and we all cried, grateful
that it was over and grateful that we endured those years and all the
pleasures and pain we experienced in that place, and then we closed the
door for the last time. No regrets, really...it was past time for a change.


The last load goes out

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Yard Work

Ariana and Jody sent some photos of Noah,
helping with the yard work --


Monday, November 10, 2003

I apologize to anyone who has been checking this blog
for updates - I haven't been keeping up with it because
my life here is in disarray, so the blog is a reflection of
that situation.

Our house is sold - closed, as of November 7 - and we have
a month to clear out of here and close the door behind us.
After twenty years, it is a profound experience. It is also a
welcome change. there have been a few tears, but we are
certain that new doors will open for us.

We are letting go of lots and lots of old stuff, sifting through
memories and looking at many scenes with the recognition
that we are saying good-bye. Much love and many years have
graced our pretty plot with complex emotion, incomprehensible
beauty. We are willing to move on.

Moving on means moving down the road, for now.
We found a place to go to - a rambly old adobe with history
and soul. It feels right.

The process, nonetheless, is unsettling - all these boxes, piles
and puzzles, so many decisions to be made. Trash and treasure,
weight to be measured, shaping our new life as it comes.

It took a major astronomical event - & a major astrological alignment -
to release us from the grip of the past! We needed all the help
we could get! On November 8th 2003 we watched a total Lunar Eclipse
displayed in clear skies. The Harmonic Concordance at the same time -- a
planetary alignment which creates the Star of David in the charts --
also took place. Check out the significance of these events at
Lunar Eclipse & Harmonic Concordance


Corrales Afternoon

Friday, October 31, 2003

The Apparition

A year ago, we laid our Sandi in the ground, on the last
golden day of Indian Summer. It has been a difficult year
and we were amazed to go for another trip around the sun before
we could let go of our deep ties here, even though Sandi moved on,
gracefully and with courage.

This poem tells the story-- It is from The Atlantic Monthly:

The Apparition

True to his word, our vet
comes in late afternoon
and kneels in a slant of sun.
A pat, a needle stick
stills the failing heart.

We lower the ancient form
to the hemlock-shrouded grave
and before the hole is brimmed
set a layer of chicken wire
to guard against predators

so that the earth we broke
reforms, a mild mound.
The rock we place on top,
common glacial granite,
is mica-flecked and flat.

That night the old dog works
his way back up and out,
gasping, salted with dirt,
and barks his familiar bark
at the scribble-scratched back door.

I pull on shirt and pants,
a Pavlovian response,
and stumble half awake
downstairs to turn the knob
where something, some mortal stub

I swear I recognize,
some flap of ear or fur,
swims out of nothingness
and brushes past me
into its rightful house.

--Maxine Kumin

Sunday, October 26, 2003

SOLD!

I haven't had the time or inclination to keep up with this blog
for the past month or more -- It has been a very intense time
with precious little opportunity for reflection or communication.
I apologize to all, I have been quite overwhelmed. Tomorrow I
suppose we will find out if we indeed have a "deal" - after
five years on the market, our long-time home and green pastures
in Corrales will be sold, presumably, to a buyer with whom we have
had some intense negotiations. We've never met; check out her
website - whew! I'll let you know if it happens, or not!


Thursday, October 23, 2003

'ghetti

We spent a few days with Noah for his birthday - 2 years old!

He tried spaghetti - his first time - I took these photos...



Friday, September 26, 2003

THE GRASSES

The same wind that uproots trees
makes the grasses shine.

The lordly wind loves the weakness
and the lowness of grasses.
Never brag of being strong.

The axe doesn’t worry how thick the branches are.
It cuts them to pieces. But not the leaves.
It leaves the leaves alone.

A flame doesn’t consider the size of the woodpile.
A butcher doesn’t run from a flock of sheep.

What is form in the presence of reality?
Very feeble. Reality keeps the sky turned over
like a cup above us, revolving. Who turns
the sky wheel? The universal intelligence.

And the motion of the body comes
from the spirit like a waterwheel
that’s held in a stream.

The inhaling-exhaling is from spirit,
now angry, now peaceful.
Wind destroys, and wind protects.

There is no reality but God,
says the completely surrendered sheikh,
who is an ocean for all beings.

The levels of creation are straws in that ocean.
The movement of the straws comes from an agitation
in the water. When the ocean wants the straws calm,
it sends them close to shore. When it wants them
back in the deep surge, it does with them
as the wind does with the grasses.
This never ends.

Rumi

Monday, September 22, 2003

The Last Day of Summer


Ozone hole three times size of US

from AlJazeera news online

Dramatic images of the earth reveal full extent of the problem

The huge size of the hole in the ozone layer is at a record level measuring 28 million square kilometres, according to the World Meterological Organisation.


Three times the size of the United States, the ozone hole has continued to grow over the last few weeks and is set to reach a maximum size in late September.

The consequences are likely to be serious and far-reaching.

WMO Professor Obasi warned on Wednesday that the most immediate threat to humankind relate to “increased variability in the intensity and frequency of storms … floods and droughts, heat waves in major urban areas and the impact of sea-level rise on low-lying coastal regions”.

Sunday, September 21, 2003

The Diver’s Clothes Lying Empty

You’re sitting here with us, but you’re also out walking
in a field at dawn. You are yourself
the animal we hunt when you come with us on the hunt.
You’re in your body like a plant is solid in the ground,
yet you’re wind. You’re the diver’s clothes
lying empty on the beach. You’re the fish.

In the ocean are many bright strands
and many dark strands like veins that are seen
when a wing is lifted up.
Your hidden self is blood in those, those veins
that are lute strings that make ocean music,
not the sad edge of surf, but the sound of no shore.

Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

Saturday, September 20, 2003

Hurricane Isabel
NASA satellites have taken some remarkable pictures of Hurricane Isabel's North American landfall.

Friday, September 19, 2003

"A billion is - - - "

"A billion is - - - ",
as presented at the web site of Lydia Mancini
_______________________

From What Matters :
The Bush junta has spent $79 billion on the devastation of Afghanistan
and Iraq, and plans to spend another $87 billion in Iraq - of which
billions will go to U.S. corporations with which Bush and Cheney have
especially good relations.

How much is a billion?
A billion is a difficult number to comprehend. An advertising agency
has done a good job of putting the figure into perspective. In a 1991
release, it stated:

"A billion seconds ago it was 1959.

"A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.

"A billion hours ago our ancestors were living in the Stone Age.

"A billion dollars ago was only 8 hours and 20 minutes, at the rate
Washington spends it."

Now, 12 years on from 1991, a billion dollars may be down to less
than 5 hours at the rate the Bush junta spends it.

Thursday, September 18, 2003

WHAT DO WHITE BIRDS SAY

The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
It fled from all my ecstasy,

Now like a singing air creature
I feel the Rose
Keep opening.

My heart turned to effulgent wings.
When has love not given freedom?
When has adoration not made one free?

A woman broken in tears and sweat
Stands in a field watching the sun and me
Trade jokes.

But never would Hafiz laugh
At your blessed labor
Of finding peace.

What do the dancing white birds say
Looking down upon burnt meadows?

All that you think is rain is not.
Behind the veil Hafiz and angels sometimes weep

Because most eyes are rarely glad
And your divine beauty is still too frightened
To unfurl its thousand swaying arms.

The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
Illusion fled from all my ecstasy.

Now like a radiant sky creature
God keeps opening,

God keeps opening
Inside of
Me.

by Hafiz(c.1320-1389)


Bird's Eye View