It’s a rainy day here, which suits me fine. Yesterday was crazy humid, but only for a day. Now we’re back down to the high sixties.
I don’t like the thought of summer ending in a week or so, but I’m ready for autumn. The gardens are well into their transition; I watch them, I note the changes, I see some leaves turning – and my body and mind realize it’s time. I don’t look forward to winter, on the other hand, but we need it in this land of deciduous trees and lilac bushes and peonies and more – all of which need winter and a hard frost.
I aim to handle this coming winter with a bit more grace. (We’ll see just how successful I am in the midst of February…)
Don has to go into the city today. I have to run a couple of errands. I have only two hundred pages to go before I finish The Book of Bones by John Connolly. You may recall my mentioning that it is 694 pages long. Connolly is a master at this kind of other-worldly thriller/mystery and it’s not at all difficult to become completely engrossed. What a story teller he is!
I didn’t mention the anniversary of 9/11 yesterday because I’ve written about it several times. We were living a mile from the Hudson River at the time and the two planes that crashed into the World Trade Center flew over our community. Later in the day, when all planes had been grounded, I heard the drone of fighter jets flying over my head. I couldn’t see them, but I heard them. It was eerie and comforting at the same time. Don was working out of the country in Calgary: all he could think about was getting back home, which, of course, was impossible. He was in rehearsal for a play. It was a horrific day which is still taking its deadly toll on first responders, all these years later.
Of course, we will never forget. How could we?
And no, Donald Trump was not a first responder. He was busy bragging that he now had the tallest building in lower Manhattan. And making up lies about seeing Muslims in New Jersey cheering the attack. That, of course, never happened. And saying that he lost hundreds of friends in the WTC. He didn’t. I won’t say anything more, but I’ll let you imagine the words that I said out loud yesterday when I heard he said he had been a first responder.
You know who actually was there? Hillary Clinton.
Happy Thursday.
What a lovely drive and destination. A way to step into a world that seems so far away. I can’t decide if the world was always this awful and I just lived-in a lower middle class privileged white bubble because I paid no attention to politics until the 1st Gulf War and than after 9/11 and the atrocities that we became involved in then, or because the graduate, systematic restriction of our civil rights, liberties and pursuits of happiness, the return of racism, the rise of Racism, and the boob in the White House unleashed a Pandora’s box of stuff that had been buried is really a new phenomena. Either way, I can’t seem to stop fighting with my husband over it because he has the temerity to insist on dealing with the necessities of daily life like paying bills, keeping up the house, and tracking phone messages. Poor guy. I can’t make the cognitive shift from caging children at the border or denying asylum to hurricane victims to a stupid phone message from some idiot trying to sell us something or prey on the elderly. I wish that he and I could get in the car and drive down the road to Millerton on the NY border as we used to just to enjoy the scenery and have a soup and salad lunch somewhere and keep some classical music on the car radio and get away from the news, technology, the newspaper. But that no longer appeals to him and going alone does not give me the solace that I crave. All this to say I believe you have no easier time than I do with all the stuff going on and I’m glad that you and Don are simpatico about finding ways to step out of it from time to time. And that you share those times with us. Good luck with your challenge! I heard a numerologist (not that I’m totally into that, but I’m not totally out of it either) say that technology is largely responsible for the acid and divisive world we live in. Seems like a valid point. Happy reading! I love John Connolly (sp?).
You have to find some respite – whether by yourself or with your husband. I strongly recommend it. If I didn’t find those pockets of freedom from all that is despicable, I would go mad. xo
Glad to hear from another John Connolly lover!
Let’s not even mention his name again….
Some days I tell either my hubby or my g’friends, “let’s just mention him or his horrendous admin today”…wayyyy too upsetting on a daily basis. I often wonder how these reporters (msnbc, etc) can keep coming back to work with a smile on their faces, reporting so much. It’s got to be so hard on them.
We, too, are trying to find other things to do in order to get away from this crap. But, unfortunately, it’s everywhere. As long as his numbers keep decreasing, that’s a bit of hope for next Nov.
Have a good day, Claudia & enjoy your weather!!!! It’s hot again here in SD for a few days.
Best wishes,
Priscilla from OB
That’s the first time I’ve mentioned it in a long, long time and it will be a long time before I mention it again!
I can’t even imagine being a member of the press right now.
oops..I meant NOT mention his name!
xo
I went to see Come from Away last night. It couldn’t have been a better time to see it. Even though they changed nothing in the script near the end (It’s been “ten” years after, they say), we all knew it had been eighteen and it was indeed the world changed.
Oh, those good people of Newfoundland. They took us in. And today, we can’t even take in Bahamian refugees.
I’m sickened that we aren’t taking in Bahamian refugees. It makes me sick to my stomach.
Funnier still is that he thinks he had hundreds of friends to lose. Funny being a word for sickening in his case.
We had 80’s and high humidity yesterday and cool and low 70’s today. We also have had about 1.5 inches of rain in the past couple of days and it was really needed. Hope you are enjoying your day.
You’re right. I guess his level of friend is Jeffrey Epstein. And I’ll say no more.
Much cooler her today and rain, off and on. Thanks, Chris.
He gets called anything but his name around here…and I can’t repeat those names in polite company. That’s where we’re at.
I love that moment you photographed…so serene. Are those parrots from the 50’s?
Rainy here today…I’m looking forward to Fall. I think I need a break from the humidity. But, my hydrangeas are so beautiful, I hate to see that end. Enjoy your day! ;)
I have countless descriptive names for him. Ask Don.
The parrots are the base of a lamp.
Yes, my hydrangeas are beautiful, as well. They’ve been spectacular this year.
None of us will forget exactly what we were doing that day when the towers fell and the planes crashed. (Somewhat like the day JFK was assassinated; these are frozen moments in time, seared into our memories.) I was up early watching the Today show and, have to admit, being a West Coast person and never having been to NYC, I didn’t actually know what towers of which they were speaking (such ignorance). I remember precisely, though, when a unearthly-quiet Matt Lauer spoke (almost as if in somber prayer; anchors are human, too) in real time of the mast with the TV antennas on the one tower sinking thru the roof, watching in disbelief with the TV audience as the moments unfolded; and, of course, knowing what it meant yet barely able to conceive of what was happening in front of ‘our’ eyes.
And the reporter Ashley Banfield crouching down on the curb, yelling for water for someone in jeopardy. I didn’t know who she was; I think she’d been down there reporting on something else when the towers got hit, so she was already in the thick of it. Just what comes to my mind as I write although there were hundreds of stories. I was not working outside the home then, so was watching too much TV coverage, with each day bringing lost hope of survivors. Soon, I had to withdraw from watching anything more, as I was already melancholy from some things going on in my personal life at the time, and I read later that if you were a person prone to anxiety or depression, you shouldn’t have been watching endless TV reports about the 9/11 tragedy. It was finding that balance of wanting to stay informed vs taking on too much more pain.
Who can forget that horrible feeling when hearing that planes at all airports were grounded, with news anchors or politicians saying, “This is war.” I just remember so much confusion and bewilderment, like what was happening (were we being invaded?) and what would happen next (what was the next target). Just a rumbling fear building up deep inside the soul. Fear like I’d never felt before. There was always some illusion of being safe on American soil. And then it later was feeling unsafe to even open up the mail in one’s own mailbox due to the anthrax threat. I think it took a lot for everybody to find their strength and not feel vulnerable.
My husband worked in media-related industry at the time and had to get to work; he was first days on a new job. I didn’t want him to leave. Nobody else I knew was going to work that day. Didn’t they close the schools, too? It was scary. I didn’t want to be separated from him, which is how you found yourself separated from Don as you say (you were too near the worst of things; so frightening for New Yorkers). I remember saying to myself, though, ‘They (whoever ‘they’ were) are not going to get away with this. You do not do this to us. Americans will persevere.’ I went right out to my porch and hung the flag after the Pentagon was hit. One by one, flags went up all over the neighborhood. People were united in their shock and grief (and anger; that survival mode of wanting to fight back when attacked, put up your dukes against the bully).
I read a few articles yesterday about it and shed some tears. Can never forget the bravery of so many people in 9/11 who risked their lives for others, including the rest of us. Sept 11 will be a sobering day/anniversary for the rest of our lives.
On another note, I meant to say how much I like the photo today, Claudia; not one you often show; it’s a nice vignette with little finds, collected. And that lamp base is just wonderful. Very unusual and sweet.
Thank you, Vicki.
Yes, I was glued to the television, as was Don up in Canada. Crying constantly. I was supposed to go see my friend’s show on Broadway that night but obviously that didn’t happen. A few weeks later I had to go into the city. I was in Grand Central Station and all you saw were ‘missing’ posters. Thousands of them. By then we knew there were no survivors. I stood there looking at every poster, sobbing. All of them were made in the hopes that somehow that person had escaped or was in the hospital. Utterly heartbreaking.
Oh dear; what you wrote just sent chills up my arm. I’ve often wondered what it must have been for people who remained in NYC, having to live and work there – – and there you were, seeing the posters; it’s a reality I can’t imagine. Or when the same planes that targeted the towers were also flying over where you and Don lived. OMG.
I remember seeing something at the time on TV, somebody interviewed, of them thinking perhaps their loved one could possibly still be found, even months later, like perhaps they were suffering from amnesia after debris falling on their head or something, and would still appear; people just refusing to give up hope, clinging to any straw; indeed, so heartbreaking.
And there was a man who worked for the port authority who’d had a service or guard dog who was his canine officer, resting off-duty in a kennel in an office I think below ‘ground’ (maybe some sort of basement offices; I can’t remember now the logistics, of what was in what building which fell) and the port authority officer was grieving for the loss of the dog, his apparently long-time/loyal canine partner, yet feeling he couldn’t voice it or shouldn’t even mention it, because of so many thousands of humans killed but, at the time, I wanted to reach thru the TV to him and say, “You’re allowed to grieve for your canine partner; don’t feel guilty about it; the dog was your partner and friend.”
Again, hundreds of stories, but I had to shut off from them for awhile; I, like you, couldn’t stop crying. We all were; it was so awful. I wasn’t personally affected by losing someone I knew (like my husband; he lost an acquaintance who was working in one of the towers) but I was too raw to loss, having suffered two recent miscarriages. That’s a little TMI, but I remember feeling conflicted, that I shouldn’t be weak but instead strong in the face of something bigger than me which was happening in my country and the world and that thousands of families were suffering from the loss of friends and loved ones, not just me and my personal problems. But I had to turn off the TV and put down the newspaper. It was just too much sadness and I was getting pulled down too low.
I remember, with it being the Fall season for new TV shows, that it seemed like tuning in to watch them was frivolous in the face of so much seriousness, and wasn’t that when Letterman came on and then Ellen with the Emmys, trying to find the right tone and wondering right along with us if we could give ourselves permission to laugh again.
xoxo
We did the same thing this year. We just couldn’t watch it or talk about it, but I will never forget that day. On Sept. 11, 2001, I was teaching in Yorktown, VA (still am) when I walked into the main office and saw the second tower fall on the video screens. Then it was madness. We are surrounded by military bases, so the schools were thrown into lockdown. Parents who were on alert couldn’t pick up their kids; we had to take care of them. It was before cell phones for teenagers, so we relayed messages to kids from their parents at the Pentagon. I remember one teenager, a linebacker on our football team, breaking down and crying on my shoulder from relief when he found out that his father was alive. Meanwhile, at home, my retired military dad was dying from a brain tumor and was so upset but could not speak (he died Oct. 6). The same day, one of my fellow English teachers died of breast cancer. It was the saddest of times. But, even sadder, what would happen to us now? Would we come together? Would our president keep us safe?
Oh my, you were so close to the Pentagon! I’m sorry that the day was made even harder with the loss of your colleague and your father’s illness. xo