05/31/2013 by syrbal-labrys
Forget good news. Getting through each day requires things more constant than finding a piece of news that does not suck in some fashion. So, a more personal list of what makes me get out of bed and keep doing whatever it is that I do, alright?
Woozles. Yes, since about 1995 I’ve had pet ferrets. No hangovers, like booze. Not illegal, like grass (till recently). No bad side-effects like anti-depressants — well, except a creeping desire to become a jewel thief. Taking care of and rescuing about twenty of these furry slinkies has kept me alive thru a child’s running away, marital upheavals, virtual loss of a daughter to drugs and booze, through deployments of a son to Afghanistan, and my own health issues — physical and mental. Ferrets are cheerful little stoics with hearts that shouldn’t even fit in such small bodies. They all die horrid deaths, and if they do it so bravely…what the hell am I whining about? Taking care of something outside of yourself is the key to caring to go on.
Hummingbirds. I’ve had feeders here almost as long as we’ve been here. For about the first 8 years, we seldom saw these little avian fighter jets. Then a pair of Anna’s hummingbirds became constant year-round inhabitants. And seasonal drop-ins like this little Rufous guy became common. I light the feeders in winter for warmth…I’ve watched the little birds sit there disconsolate during power outages awaiting electronic spring. And last year, I saw one of the male Anna’s sit shivering in summer, apparently grief-shattered in summer, as his mate did not appear. I thought he would die…sitting without sipping nectar. We humans are not alone in mourning.
Bees. Whether bumblebees or honeybees, watching these living flying bits of gold always lifts me on wings indescribable. Honeybees are in dire trouble, and it breaks my heart….so all the more when I see one in my intentionally old style single rose blossoms, it lifts me to hope again. I don’t use bug sprays and herbicides on my gardens. I plant old fashioned things that bees love. I put up with things I do not love for the sake of late summer blossoms FOR the bees.
Beauty. My gardens are not well-ordered. They are incredible composites of places and people I’ve known…a bit of salvaged brick and concrete, flowers dug out of demolition zones, recycled, re-purposed items, old fashioned flowers calling back loved ones long dead…and full of surprises just when I need one: a pretty web on a wet morning, a fallen blossom on a sunny stone. Sometimes I think we “tidy” our lives into sterility, and I have given that up. Instead, I have weeds to feed to my geese. And at need, almost any day, I am ambushed by beauty and surprised into living on.
Fighting the good fight. It IS too about winning; sorry, I’m not THAT noble. But, of course, I don’t always win…but I keep fighting. I keep my heart in the game and I never say “Uncle!” I will endure to remember what others don’t want to even think about. I will bear witness to the times I’ve lived in…whether as a player or a furiously NOT mute witness. I don’t sit upon fences, I am never neutral; I never kept anything white that color long, because I get right down in the mud and the blood. I love peace, but I love justice more and I’m no pacifist.