OK, yes the weather is driving me crazy, it’s wackin my mole. Do I live in my raingear or do I find another hook to hang my latest wet jeans on? This is the tragic level of Felipé’s problems.
What else is new? The Island boat racing guys are fine tuning their hydroplanes for this years annual race on the early morning of the Fourth. Remember the Fourth? This competition has been going on for as long as I remember and is an important part of our Island life although there are always some party poopers who make a big deal about the noise. There is nothing noisier than these things. But big bragging rights go to the winner and his pit crew.
And Wiley and Henna made it in for a tour of CHAZ, that’s the Capital Hill Autonomous Zone. This is a small section of the City of Seattle left over from the demonstrations and riots of days ago. It is presently without police presence and has for the present been peaceful and sort of an experiment in ceasefire. I am sure that you have seen reports on the news both good and bad depending on the bias.
Anyway they are back safe.
Church wise St. John Vianney has been down but I just received an email that they plan on opening this Sunday with an outdoor service limited to one hundred attendees. This should be interesting.
Also, Burton Community Church, My Rebecca’s, had the fabulous Bonnie Barnard Zoom in to give the sermon yesterday. She is always full of energy, wisdom and good vibes. She spoke on King David and the 23rd Psalm, a Psalm for hard times or the hardest of times.
And that‘s life for us here locally on a Monday. Off to walk in a minute, have to find my aqualung.
A pic out the window. It’s a jungle out there. (photo P Volker)
The sun edges higher and the light slowly moves across the field in the distance. It’s going to be a glorious day coming up. And also coming up is the Summer Solstice with the same sun creeping up on the longest day of the year. What a time! The whole thing is glorious!
I’m giddy with sunshine after this long winter and a long wet first half of June. Rain, rain, please go away for a while at least. We will have a dry walk here in a few minutes. Catherine coming to pray the rosary as we walk. Still no news as to when church will start up again so we pray on in our own homespun way. Our world could use a few more prayers don’t you think as our deck gets reshuffled.
The TV blares as the debate goes on. We talk on, write on, think on, walk on, pray on. We are all working on this collective problem in our own way. And life tries to go on.
And half of my life these days also is involved with the sweet corn crop. The fight to get the weeds under control is where the effort is centered. The clover green mulch is establishing itself in between the rows which is hopeful. But in the rows, up close to the individual plants, needs a one time clean up to keep the competition down. That is where I am today or this week, this month.
OK, that‘s what it looks like at the moment. Time to find my boots, Catherine will be here. The sunshine need some to be out in it.
You don’t meet that many guys named Norm these days so when you do you have to take advantage. Norm works in the hardware and lumber store on the Island. He is the one of the employees that you want to keep track of because he knows the answers and he is available. I was in buying some plumbing parts the other day and he was stocking in that aisle so we were gabbing. I had most of my plumbing problem figured out so I really didn’t need him so badly but it is always reassuring that he is close by. So I was done and ready to leave when I said, “Norm, some time before I die there is this one fitting that I never have had a chance to use and I always wanted to.” Norm thought that was humorous, “Like that’s on your bucket list?” I said, “Yea, I’m easily pleased!”
Well, that’s a good attitude to have during a quarantine. I don’t have to fly off somewhere or get seasick on some harrowing boat trip or experience some another way of having buckets of fun. Somehow being fascinated with the common or familiar seems enough for me these days. Being outside walking the trail with visiting pilgrims and weeding the corn seems just great for a June’s activities.
I was listening in on My Rebecca’s Zoom meeting today with her knitting group. It was absolutely hilarious. So glad I had the opportunity. People are connecting and just having good times despite the lockdown or near lockdown anyway.
So, time to go. It is drying up outside, time to continue my contests with the weeds.
Not Exactly Déjà vu, But We’ve Been Down This Road Before
“Back in the last century”, is a quip I throw out there frequently, as much as anything to remind my current listener that I’ve been around the block a time or two, and, no, this isn’t my first Rodeo. 2020 is going to stay in our collective memories for a long, long, time. And justifiably so. The younger set has the tendency to think, Man! Things have never been this messed up before! And even us older lot, tend to forget what the road was like we trod on 52 years ago.
Following the lead of my Hero, Camino Felipe, I tend to take a broader view. The View we are going to revisit with today’s Blog, has the time stamp 1968 on it. Admittedly, there was no World Pandemic raging that year. But there was a savagely raging shooting war going on half way around the world, and it had much longer legs than the virus the world is fighting now. That war had already been going on for a dozen years, and to us of a draft-eligible age, seemed like it was going to last long enough to suck us into it.
The term “Tet Offensive”, probably doesn’t ring a bell with anyone under age 50, but it truly does to any of us 20 years older than that with the tag “veteran” affixed to us. That was the opening act of 1968, and it was a “game changer”. The “Bad Guys” came out on the very short end of that stick, but the fact that they did what they did at the time they did it, knocked America on its proverbial behind. It would still be a long time til “the end” of that tragedy, but it was most assuredly, the beginning of the end.
As is the case today, ’68 was an election year, and the rhetoric then, as now, was visceral and constant. Twitter wasn’t even a glint in any entrepreneur’s eye, but AM radio was on constantly to fan the flames that the Evening News would rekindle daily.
The twin topics of The War and Civil Rights dominated everything. Until, that is, something like “The Pueblo Incident” would erupt and then the pot would get stirred and heated to the boiling point as an American warship and its crew are captured by North Korea, threatened with execution, and literally held for ransom.
Assassinations, not one, but two, and of young, shining stars, Martin and Bobby, mourned with a passion that still reverberated from JFK a short five years before. Agony of mind and spirit was omnipresent.
There was no Pandemic to halt the ancient inspired games of the Olympics, but the angst of a race of people long oppressed flashed around the world on a raised fist of Black Power.
2020 has thrilled us at least momentarily with the Falcon Rocket taking American astronauts to the Space Station. 1968 saw us one step closer to that Giant Step for Mankind on the moon, with Apollo 8 orbiting the magnificent orb, Luna. And on a more mundane note, the incredible 747 took its jaw dropping maiden flight, with a wingspan longer than the total flight of Wright Brothers on the sands of Kitty Hawk. .
The term “Police Brutality” was coined long before 2020, and the days and weeks surrounding the Democratic Convention of 1968 would seem like a primer. Police dogs tearing into panicked, screaming, high pressure water-hosed demonstrators was daily TV fare, as well as tear-gassed gagging reporters covering the mayhem.
And all of this was viewed through the eyes of a 21 year old newly minted Iowa State University alum, with a signed contract obligating him to 4 years of discipline and adventure provided by the United States Marine Corps. I had already earned the love and promise of my heart’s desire, and the future had more promise than fear. Bring it on!
This is the feeling that I hope is predominant for those who may feel that there is no justification for hope. There must always be hope, and a good way to find hope is to find reassurance that bleak times of the past did not last.
It’s William, O’Brother Where Art Thou? (photo J Hayes)
That’s really “obstacles” but that is how it was pronounced by Pete on O’Brother Where Art Thou. I do love that movie so much! Could just be my favorite film, maybe tied with the Blues Brothers. We watched it again last evening after take out pizza dinner.
One of the local pizza joints donated 100% of their take yesterday to Black Lives Matter. The place was hopping, they had so many orders. I always get the “Price Buster” pizza and they had about twice as much topping on as usual. It was an Island party!
Then I had O’Brother calling me so My Rebecca found it and we watched. I just love everything about it. And I had forgotten a lot of the details since the last time we watched it and that was on VHS tape so you can tell how long ago that was. It is really a journey, a pilgrimage with all kinds and manner of situations and close calls just like our journey. We can all recognize so much. Might be time to watch it again.
Cheery yellow flower from up north. (photo W Hayes)
How come I keep coming back to tapas? No matter what the problem I seem to think that it is a good answer. Is it the big solution to all problems? The more I think about it the larger it grows. This all came from Steve Watkins‘ post on FB this AM. He was saying that maybe peace was more important than happiness. And I wise cracked that we can’t leave out tapas. Well, we can’t.
When a boat comes in to a harbor after a long rough day with work well done, is basically how I think about tapas. We all have dings and scrapes from the “work”. We may have done things and seen things which are heroic or stoic or regretful or beautiful. Tapas are the time to unravel those. Tapas are the time to celebrate and maybe that is above all.
We all have been missing them here at the ranch. Will we ever get back to it? Doesn’t seem like we will get there in the near future. But by August 2021 can it be done? Can we get some reasonable facsimile accomplished by then? That seems something to work for.
Off I go to work in the corn. The big race is on to keep ahead of the weeds. Corntine a’comin! That is the big challenge right now.
Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and upon glancing behind
one sees the path
that never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road–
Only wakes upon the sea.
That is where I left off yesterday. I have more questions than answers. Well, maybe that is just about right place to be for this time, our time. Answers maybe will be slow in coming since the problems are so knotty and layered. So, I know for me I don’t feel comfortable without answers. But other things remain without answers like my health for instance, I have to remind myself.
So, we walk on watching to learn what way is the right path. We are feeling our way along. It is not the time for running and racking up huge mileage. It is also not the time to just sit still. Life goes on not matter what requiring us to give attention to many things. This is our story right now.
Times they aren’t pretty but they are real loves, Felipé.
Always on Camino, where ever. (photo by Jim Meiklejohn)
Robbi had a comment this morning that got me thinking. It was about how the Camino has been removed from us. This thing that we long for has been snatched away. Well, not the European trail itself. It will last and wait patiently like it always has. But for us to be removed from the closeness, the eternal mixing of the pilgrims is the opposite of the direction we want to go in.
How did we get here? One month we were fine and the next we weren’t. One minute we were hugging to our heart’s content and the next we were staying six feet apart. Never do I remember in my lifetime such a disruption not just in the physical realm but in the realms where our minds and souls reside.
But maybe we are given this obstacle, a challenge really, to explore our own “aloneness”? Maybe we need to walk on in solitude to get the hang of that? Maybe that is our lesson to learn at this point. In some ways it is a bitter pill but maybe there is a need for it.
The Camino as a trail has seen many changes over its life, wars and epidemics and funerals and coronations. It’s popularity has waxed and waned. But we are the ones “on” Camino, “on” pilgrimage whether we are there physically or not. Maybe that is what we need to explore?
Yesterday I was writing about opening up “after” the pandemic. And both Cris and Ron fired back comments to me/ to us. Their view is that we are no where close to opening. This “after” the pandemic might be an illusive idea. I will print the body their comments:
From Ronaldo, Caminoheads Astorga Bureau:
It is too early to make broad and accurate statements on the Camino ‘opening.’ It will be different and I will forward reliable info as it happens. I remind myself, and each reader, that each of us has a personal pilgrimage experience.
Stand-by for info as it is published by responsible groups.
I plan to walk a day on the Camino in a week or two but I don’t expect an albergue to be open, likely a taxi ride home.
I am hoping to walk the Ingles from Ferrol in the fall. We will see.
From Cris, Caminoheads South America Bureau Chief:
Just keep being safe… this situation is not at all “over”… we are just getting used to it, and living with it, but still by no means we can let ourselves “be at ease”… I have been reading posts of people assuming when the Camino will open or even suggesting ideas to do so… And I was wondering that maybe, we can encourage any pilgrim or future pilgrim, to drop down this idea for 2020&2021 and instead, start using their imagination and do their own “backyard” Camino… Maybe because I am on “the other side” (on the medical side), I see these questions and my stomach aches… but on the other hand, I think “we” can also share with “them”, that a lot of the Camino happens being close to the other, listening while they speak really softly, almost as if we were their priest listening to their confessions; and also hugging each other, while laughing loud in a pilgrims table… in the social distancing world we must keep living for a while (for the health and safety of all of us), those things shouldn’t happen…
I know… it is sad… but I have been thinking that there should be a way to honor the ones who have died and the ones who have lost their loved ones due to this pandemic… and maybe we can do that aware that the health of the other is “in our hands”…
Well, there you have it for Sunday June 7th. Off to walk my “church” walk with Catherine.
