Bonus days

Today I am sixty-four. I never thought that I would make it this far. Every day from now on is a bonus day. Each day will be treasured and slowly sipped like a good brandy. No more worries about cholesterol and blood pressure and smoking and drinking and sausages and butter and cream. There will be cream and butter and wine and Julia and Jacques and Lidia and delicious aromas wafting out of the kitchen window. Each day will be a treasure that counts but will not be counted. Read a little, eat a little, drink a little (is that possible for a Swede?), walk a little, and end each day by lying down for a rest and not worry about waking up. Who knew that life was going to be so easy after a lifetime of worrying about the future? Tomorrow never comes, today is always here. My children are well, my Brother is well, therefore I am well!

You'll have to admit

It's getting better, better all the time. The last few days have been wearying. I have had a litany of SYMPTOMS! They are slowly resolving themselves and I no longer feel damned by the hubris of predicting sixty-four. I will resume walking as I have missed that very much. This is a pleasant town to walk in as there is absolutely nothing going on. There are still the trees and the flowers and the birds and the river and the waterfall. If I feel particularly sprightly, there is the farm and the canal. There is always the library and across the street from it A DOUGHNUT SHOP! Coffee, a doughnut, and a book, that is a match made in heaven. I grew up in a city that had a doughnut shop and a pizza shop in every one of the many villages of that city.
Uxbridge has a pizza shop but it is a Greek pizza shop. That means a crust like pastry and a cheese steak sandwich that has the meat chopped so fine that it seems like a beef pesto. I remember fondly the cheese steak at Jackies near Filene's in Boston. Beef and cheese and onions and peppers and tomatoes on good French bread with plenty of grease running down my arm. Ahh the memories are flooding back. The Hole in the Wall with roast brisket on a bulkie with swiss cheese and horseradish mustard and a slice of onion, followed by a grilled knackwurst treated the same way.
There is little diversity in this town. I grew up in a city that had Polocks and Guineas and Squareheads and Frogs and Limeys and Harps and Spics and Jews and Towelheads and Chinks. I don't remember any friction between the groups. They all lived their lives the same way. They worked hard and long, they lived for their children's future, and they minded their own business. Then they sat down to eat and I sat down with them. You cannot have difficulties with people who put such splendor before you.
Our capital has statues and documents and memorials that celebrate the foundations of this country. The Senate Dining Room was originally dedicated to Alferd Packer (how appropriate is that?). I would like to see a long high granite wall with the menu of America inscribed on it celebrating the real reason we can stand living with each other. The Chinese have the most wonderful way of greeting a stranger or a visitor. They open everything with "Have you eaten?". Never mind "Who are you?" or "What are you doing here?" or "What do you believe in?". "Have you eaten?", there can be no mistaking such a greeting as hostile or treacherous. It used to be the custom of the Western world to greet a stranger thus but that custom has withered under the onslaught of progress. The first holiday in America was Thanksgiving. Everyone brought something to the table and sat together and ate together. Thanksgiving is now celebrated with football, a fine symbol of peace and harmony.
I think that the only hope for America is to elect Jacques Pepin as President-for-Life. There would be celebrations in the vineyards of California, the dairy farms of Vermont and Wisconsin, the meat producing Midwest, the fisheries of New England, the Vegetable Belt of the Mid Atlantic states. New Orleans could be the nations new capital. Our needs are oxygen, water, food, and shelter. All else is wants. Imagine if the world decided to all sit down and have a good meal, a glass of wine, and mind their own business.
This line of thinking was brought on by my reading an article where the author suggested dealing with North Korea by insuring that no food be allowed to be imported into North Korea, thereby causing the people to rise up and change their government. There seems to be a consensus that their government is crazy but the people are HUNGRY. Would an Eastern intellectual, who undoubtedly espouses the concept of the Brotherhood of Man, deny his brother a meal? A Muslim, those crazy, mean, car bombing, terrorists have a stipulation in their holy book. If at sundown a crazy person is on your doorstep, you must take them in and feed them and give them shelter for the night.
We have the resouces to do such but our society is more concerned with the welfare of General Motors than we are with General Mills. A wise man once said "Feed my sheep.". He wasn't concerned about how much extra wool or lambchops he would get, he was just concerned about the wellbeing of the flock. Tell a North Korean child that the reason he is hungry is that his government is crazy and the only thing that he will remember is that you kept the food away from him. Give him a heaping bowl of rice with a small American flag embossed on the bottom of the bowl and he might remember something else. How much control does a starving Korean child have over his government? About as much as a hungry Latino child in Los Angeles does.
So we put a new inscription on the Statue of Liberty. "Have you Eaten?".

Sima II

The Sima came out pretty good. It has a sweet lemonish tang to it and some mouth feel. It also has a bit of a kick to it. Yesterday was beef stir-fry with noodles, Sima, and a handful of Ghiradelli bittersweet chips.
I finally got around to doing some transplanting yesterday. I have many containers of herbs. The sage is doing nicely, so is the parsley and the dill. Today will be more transplanting as the many tomato seedlings need a new home, so do the peppers. I have forgotten which peppers are which but they will all have a new home.
I got permission from the lady next-door to dig up a small portion of her lawn to plant a garden. She is 91 years old and very sweet. She is alert and active and has quite a sense of humor. She still drives and gardens and she likes pickled herring. I wonder if there is a menhaden run in the local river. If there is, it should soon. I think that menhaden are herring and I have a net. The net has rather larger holes in it which would only retain larger herring and that bodes ill for pickled herring as the large pieces make you gag. There is a nice pickled herring at the local supermarket and if I shop this week I will get the neighbor some.
I did not plant leeks this year. Every year I tell myself that I am going to plant leeks, as they are quite expensive in the market, and every year I consider the work that they entail and I don't plant them. The market has them and it is easier to buy them. The bottoms are great for any dish and the tops are great for stock.
I have gotten into a cycle of getting up at 2 A.M. and going to bed at 6 P.M. and I can't seem to break it. I enjoy watching the sunrise from the porch and lying down while the gentle summer breezes flow into the bedroom window. Maybe there is no reason to break the cycle.
Next week I will turn sixty-four. No male in my family has ever made it to sixty-four. I am looking forward to it.

Sima

Two days ago I made Sima, which is a Finnish lemon wine. I corked it up yesterday and when I went out into the kitchen this morning, the corks were lying on the floor on the other side of the room. I recorked the bottles and put them into the refrigerator. I will sample the result this afternoon. If I made mistakes in the process of making the brew, I may end up where the corks were or permanently escounced in the bathroom talking to my friend God on the big white telephone. I have been there before.

Dreams

Last night was a night of strange dreams. Many of those dreams were old acquaintances. It is so nice to wake up and realize that you are no longer in that situation and have nothing to fear. I often dream that I am still in the Army and awaiting some horrible conclusion. I awake and realize that that situation no longer applies to me. I also often dream that I am late for work or have lost my job. I used to lie in bed at night worrying about that, wondering how I would feed and provide for my wife and children. Those times have passed and when that dream occurs again, I can awake and push the dream away. I had another dream and it will remain only a dream. The time for new things has passed.
Today will be a day for transplanting. I have seedlings all over the house and the tomato plants are two feet high and still in pots. The dream was related to transplanting but of a different sort.

P and P

Philosophy and poetry, they both have a similar effect on me. Philosophy makes my brain ache and poetry makes my heart ache. I realize that it is my brain and not my heart that poetry works on so I have decided to forego both of them. I have spent a lifetime trying to learn things and I am damned tired of it. From now on I will read for pleasure only. Yesterday I went to the library and got a copy of Name of the Rose. History and fiction, there is a combination I have always loved. I laid down in the afternoon to read. So far it is pretty good. I am up this early because I think that I fell asleep while it was still light out. Textbooks had a similar effect on me.
William of Baskerville uses the same techniques of deduction that Sherlock Holmes used. I wonder if he had a dog.

Hegel

Forty-five years ago I took philosophy classes. I guess that I was not really paying attention or that I was too young to really comprehend the material. It may be that a person's mind is simply raw material that must go through the crucible of life to be of any value to them. I am sure that the course dealt with Hegel at the time but I don't recall much.
I have been reading Hegel. There they are, the concepts that have been circulating below the surface of my consciousness for a long time.
There are no such things as fairness or luck. There is only Reason. Stand in a field and beg the sky for a favor or stand in a field and curse the sky, it makes no difference. There is no tyrannical diety ruling the universe saying "If you do this and you do that, you will be rewarded or comforted.". There is only Reason.
Why do babies die, why is there pain and suffering, why is there hunger? These are the thoughts that went through my mind as I sat in Confirmation classes. There is a reason for each of these. Because I don't see the reason does not mean that the reason doesn't exist. It means that the reason is beyond my perception. The times of my youth when I railed against the unfairness of the Diety are gone. There is no such thing as fairness. There is only reality. Deal with it!
Yes, Hegel did soften his thoughts as he grew older. This morning I stood on the porch. watching the sky as the black of the horizon slowly turned to indigo and then purple. The morning star shone an inch above the horizon as the day began its endless journey from dark to dark. I started thinking about philosophers and how their views make a similar journey. Philosophers are like banannas. In their youth they are green and firm and uncompromising in their thoughts. As they age they reach a ripeness and full value of their contents. When they get old they turn mushy and winey. Why? I don't know but there must be a reason. It is outside of my perception of reality but that doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. Thank you Hegel, you have given me succor. Perhaps I will summon the courage to attempt Kant again. Not at night but during the day when the sunshine and singing birds can be my shield against his thoughts as they were with the thoughts of Malthus. Malthus's thoughts weren't fair, they had just been reasoned out.
Now the hardest part is beginning to glimmer in the depths of my consciousness. What is consciousness and what is the reason it exists? Is it just self awareness? We humans feel that we are the only thing on the planet that posesses it but I have seen cats get embarrased. If it is only present where there is a brain, there are a lot of other brains here other than ours.
Too much coffee too early!
Ericka, this is for you.
A farmer was driving home one day when he noticed his elderly neighbor Zeke standing in the middle of his wheat field staring at the sky. The farmer thought "Oh no, Zeke has finally
lost it. I had better do something."
The farmer went up to Zeke and said "Zeke, come with me. you are doing something silly.".
Zeke said "This isn't silly. I am trying to make a million dollars by winning a Nobel Prize.".
The farmer said "Zeke, you can't win a Nobel Prize for farming.".
Zeke said "Anyone can win a Nobel Prize if they are out standing in their field!".

Local jewel

Yesterday I decided that I needed peat moss or potting soil to transplant some of the seedlings. I usually get my garden stuff from the local hardware store but I decided to walk to the local plant nursery that is a bit closer first. The only soil or peat moss that they have is much too big and heavy for me to handle. While I was there I wandered through their extensive assortment of plants. Lo and behold, they have French tarragon, Cherokee Purple tomatoes, Mortgage Lifter tomatoes, and miracle of miracles, Brandywine tomatoes.
I walked back home, deciding to await another day to get the supplies. Just after noon I lay down to take a nap. Sleep did not come as the thoughts of the tomatoes refused to go away.
Back I went to get some plants. They are two feet tall and cost about the same as the spindly dehydrated plants I orderd through the mail, when shipping charges are taken into consideration. Today I will transplant them to bigger pots. If fortune smiles on me I will head back for more plants of different varieties of vegetables and herbs. I still need peat moss and I will deal with that somehow.
I have been reading the works of some of the German philosophers. There is much there and many thoughts that I find confusing. Goethe and Kant and Schiller can keep me awake for a long time. Their reasoning seems clear but their conclusions go against thousands of years of human thought. They found a way to break the chains formed by Olympus but they didn't leave much room for solace or hope. Johnson's toe comes to mind. He found his rock in the middle of a tempest of views and clung to it through the storm.
While laboring over German thoughts, I began to think about the tyranny of vision. Of all the senses, vision seems to dominate our daily life. While lying in bed I tested this line of thought. I closed my eyes and allowed the other senses free rein. First I felt the gentle night breeze flowing through the window. Second I heard the night murmerings following them. Last, and most pleasantly, I smelled the lilacs that are blooming across the driveway. Peace came and so did slumber. The sense of taste will have to wait until the tomatoes are ripe.
There is a sense that has no path of input to the brain but resides there. It is the sense of joy. That sense came this morning when I read Shaun's post.

Long walk

Yesterday was for an extremely long walk. I walked down to River Bend Farm, which is several miles, crossed the bridge over the Blackstone Canal, and then walked back along the towpath. It was all very refreshing to the mind. The peacefulness of the water in the Canal is punctuated by the splash of turtles, Canadian Geese paddling and honking their way along their thoroughfare, and birds scolding chipmonks. I only encountered one other person who was walking a black Labrador Retriever.
The Blackstone River flows on the other side of the towpath, through woodlands and skunk cabbage, gravel banks and oxbows. The river and the canal and the birds and the turtles soothe the mind and reflection starts. I started thinking about my generation. a generation that was so full of promise and gentleness and respect for each other and the truth. It was the US generation and has devolved into the ME generation.
I started thinking about heroes, not the Greek definitions of heroes but who our heroes were. I have three heroes in mind. The first is James Earle Carter. What he was and who he is may never be equaled. The second is William Jefferson Clinton. I did not vote for him to be my moral leader, for, like Nebo, he has a problem with his feat. I voted for him to take care of America and that he did as no recent President has. Personal life aside, he did his job. He reminds me of Edward Kennedy, personal life aside, he did his job.
Of all the heroes, no one can match Hugh Thompson Jr.. My generation should carve a mountain to celebrate his humanity. He epitomizes the phrase "Beufel ist nicht beuful!" We are all responsible for our actions. The ghosts of Goring and Heidrich must be laughing at my generation and shuddering at the thought of Hugh Thompson Jr..
I cannot wear flowers in my hair as what hair is left is too short to retain them. The flowers are still in my heart. Once upon a time, forty years ago, there was hope. Life in a groove was better than life in a rut.

Word

Word came this morning that my little mayflower is fine. There was a message on the answering machine (Yes I do occasionally check the messages to see how my friends the telemarketers are doing) and it was Johanna saying that she was fine. Her voice sounded a little strained but the message was that she was fine. I remember what that strained tone used to mean and I hope that that is not the case now. I will try to call her today. It will be easier to sleep tonight.
Yesterday was make a sauce day. Onions, garlic, mushrooms, sausages, pepperoncini, hot cherry peppers, tomatoes, and sausage blended together and graced the linguini perfectly. The artichoke hearts were the perfect complement. Cooking and walking and reading and napping blend together nicely also.
Life used to be so hard but now all that I lack are two cats in the yard. First I need a yard and then I need two cats. I would also like to have a very, very, very, fine........
I am content with the joy that the message brought. Cats and a yard are wants not needs. Knowing that all is well with my precious flower is a need. I am content.

Disappointment

The tomato plants arrived yesterday. They did not travel well and I don't hold much hope for their survival. I transplanted them and lightly fertilized them but this morning they are sad, with their heads hanging down and their complexion pasty.
The rosemary and the french tarragon are doing well in their new home so maybe the tomatoes will revive. Next year, tomatoes from seed only. Someday Brandywine tomatoes will be on the menu. I have many other varieties that I started from seed and they seem to be doing well. Now all I need is some garden space to plant them in.

Not fair

Every bad thing that ever happened to me was my fault before this. I have become used to making big mistakes and small mistakes and have become very forgiving and understanding of the long list of my errors and failings.
This thing that has happened has nothing to do with my failings and has resulted in my railing against the unfairness of it. It is not fair that something should happen to someone I love dearly. It is not my fault but it is also not the fault of my loved one.
I can understand when bad things happen to me as I am used to it and it is usually my fault. To have something happen to such a sweet and loving and gentle person is not fair. My heart goes out to her. Her life has been filled with enough disappointment and tragedy and toil.
I lay in bed at night thinking over and over "What can I do to help? Is there any way that I can remedy this situation?". This can't be happening but it is.