Mid January 2014
We are in the middle of a January thaw, in the 40's, raining, deceptively imitating a spring thaw. We know we could go straight back down to 20 below again in a heartbeat. That is the North country. Am somewhat relieved to have 2013 behind us, even though there is nothing specific, except that cursed number 13. In my study of the Knights Templar, 13 could be traced back to a date when Knights were eliminated by slaughter. Burning at the stake sounds particularly torturous. Trying to keep up with the so called news and then I read some Aristotle. Some things seem to never change. Saw a photo of a recreated neanderthal man. Ponderous, would be the caption.
The pipeline fight is forging on. Now with Neil Young on the other end up in Alberta...I am reminded every day of the limitations that MS places on my life. Wondering how these fights all seem to mirror one another. Reminded of the
Line of the minuteman, April 19, 1775.
Stand your Ground
Don't fire unless Fired upon
But if they mean to have a War,
Let it begin here.
Late December, 2013
Nearing the end of year 2013.
Christmas, or whatever you call the short days...
Thankfully the daylight hours gaining again for those of us inhabiting the Northern hemisphere of the planet.
We lost a good friend Lisa, who warmed my heart with her special soul. She adopted a cat from us who is now called Girly Girl. Girly's first name was Whitney. Lisa wanted a kitten. These were our Y 2K Kitten boom litter explosion where we contacted Green Mountain Animal defenders and they helped us trap, neuter and adopt over 20 cats/kittens. I thought for sure Captain would be Lisa's type. He was friendly and jovial. Well...it did not work. Captain freaked out and would not go near Lisa. So we settled on sweet little petite Whitney. Lisa adopted her, named her Meredian, and took care of her for many years. (Captain was furious, as it turned out, she was his kitten and I do not think he ever forgave us for giving away his sister). Recently Lisa asked if I could bring her back to our pride. Absolutely, of course. And we met one night and I took Meredian home and named her again, Girly Girl, aka Missy. No longer Whitney, Her Meredian chapter done. She was reborn again. Captain had died not long before this so he just missed her homecoming. I still think he sent for her.
So the day I heard Lisa left the material plane, Girly and I sat together a lot. I was relieved Lisa sent her back to be with us, where she knew the scents, the lay of the land, and us.
Now I am home more, I see the value in having a Girl cat boss me, tell me to get up, feed her, keep up my routine. She even likes to tweet with me. Thanks, Lisa, The best social worker, hippest, nicest, animal lover, sensitive, cool hipster. So cute, sweet, with that dark sense of humor only possible by where you have been. Your fears? I never saw any, we all have them. I hope yours were kept to a minimum. Did I intend to write this update about Lisa? Well, not really. Now that I have, however, it seems appropriate to ask you, wherever you are on the planet or off the planet, to raise a glass for Lisa today. It is the thought that counts, send a message for her to carry on with her extraordinary love light, and tell her Girly & I send our love, meg 12.30.13
Early December 2013
Feeling the cold go through our house some days. Fuel untouchable anymore. Sick about the taxes we shelled out over 6K and the roof leaks, house is old as ever, land lays fallow like my muscles and nerves. I have become a non profit with no 501k. Feel sorry for others worse off than we are.
Fighting the Pipeline, Fracking, MS, Deja Vu.
Our bodies regenerate every 7 years. By my math I am due for a snakeskin shedding...soon to turn 56. Some numbers surprise you when you break them down. My inactivity stimulates my thoughts. How nerve damage, even in that quieter RRMS, causes a scenario where you must think harder, to get around the scarred places, to circumvent the damaged battlegrounds of my immune system against my own neuro system. Calling it...around the mulberry bush...that fairy tale about girls in prison...weird really...this is the way we wash our hair, wash our hair...My odd imagination imagining girls in jail, being smacked around, brain injured, now compliant, spirits broken...this is the way we wash the floors...
So I was making a connection with the fairy tale, another silly way to address a serious injustice. I love fairy tales. Working on a drawing of this one. meg 12.6.13
Archives...still relevant as long as we fight the pipeline extension into Addison county...today I compressed them into a file called monkton chronicle archives