It’s now 8 days shy of a month since that face time call and the dang letter-c reappeared in my world. Twenty two days of not sleeping peacefully through the night. Twenty two days of feeling the walls closing in around me. Grrrr.
We did the early morning senior run to the grocery store, finally the store shelves are beginning to look normal again. Part of me says stock up now because this virus will be back for round two but the other part of me says don’t become one of those who went into full on hoarder mode.
The garden is looking amazing thus far. The seedlings I started in the house are double their size. Now, to keep the chipmunk out of the mix. I was reading that chipmunks are not fond of cinnamon oil and peppermint oil. I’m going to place cotton balls soaked with it near a couple of my plants and see if that discourages the digging he/she is determined to do. It looks like we’re going to have a few comfortable days ahead of us in the 70’s. I hate having the ac on. I love hearing the birds chatter and the sound of leaves rustling that the ac drowns out.
I finished Langston Hughes Not Without Laughter. I enjoyed the writing style and visual imagery that moved the story forward. I can’t even begin to comprehend life during that time frame as he shared. The social injustices of the time sickened me as I read. Maya Angelou said, “Prejudice is a burden that confuses the past, threatens the future, and renders the present inaccessible.” I believe it is still occurring maybe not as bad as in Hughes time but a lot of the brutality and inequality when it comes to career and income haven’t ended. Why is it unless we see prejudice and injustice with our own eyes we continue in a state of denial ? The stories in books are dismissed as fiction because it’s easier to dismiss it than to accept the responsibility that all of us are part of the problem. Like the ostrich with its head buried in the sand, see nothing, know nothing. I didn’t intend to go off on another rant. I feel so frustrated because I feel like I am not doing enough.
Anyway, I enjoyed the book immensely and will be updating my reading list and reviewing on Goodreads. I highly recommend reading his work. His poetry is amazing if you haven’t had the opportunity to read it.
Dreams © Langston Hughes
“Hold fast to dreams
for if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
that cannot fly
Hold fast to dreams
for when dreams die
Life is a barren field
frozen with snow
His poetry inspired me along with Poe, Plath, Yeats, Whitman, Donne, Eliot, Wilde, Thomas, Bronte, Thoreau, Homer, Shelly and Bukowski. I love how each of them mastered a story or a message within verse.
that halo around it does not bode well.
All the signs are hard to deny
soon stormy weather, or maybe a white spell.
Those gusty raw winds chill to the bone.
Small animals scurry to cover
before the wolves catch them alone.
Palpable fear seems to hover,
the fittest survive, the weak will die.
The laws of nature are not fair,
some will struggle to defy
while others give in to despair.
Sometimes I just get tired like today. The four walls close in around me… nobody knows.
I keep thinking about the days when the letter-c was just a memory.