Like my simple recipe for fitness:
We sometimes make excuses complicated when the solution is not. (I will not say what soul-sapping task I was doing just before I encountered this.)
The picture is from the Sierra Club, with credit to Go Camping Australia, on Facebook.
Posted in environment, getting around, good for what ails, how-to, idea
Tagged already, camping, getting around, how-to, making change, outside comfort zone, simplicity, truth-telling
Haiku for today:
Oh, little red bike
wheel me to where I’m going.
In the cold, and on ice, the bike on the street is faster and feels safer than feet on the uncleared ice-caked sidewalks.
Photo from Capital Bikeshare website.
For another day:
From Fei-Fei, dubious about her dad’s cooking. At 3-1/2, she’s already a tough customer:
Did you burn the food?
Can you pull it together?
Is there lunch today?
3 January 2015 (out of range for a few days)
Haiku for today:
The sky is leaden,
Rain falls liquid and solid.
Best stay warm in bed.
Well, William did, deservedly, until about 10. I favor inclement weather, so got up earlier at the sound of rain on a metal roof, to make coffee, build a fire, write some words, and enjoy this transforming place.
Those tasks planned for the first day of the new year are accomplished, and more. I also baked bread, turned dry beans into a soup, made a list of what’s needed and procured supplies for the “larder.” (Listening to Bill Bryson’s At Home as an audio book, we learned the origin of that term is not really lard, but rather the word for “bacon,” and thus referred to the room where meats and food were stored.) I have spent some time with poetry books and with pottery magazines, where I did not look at just the pictures, but also read the stories, learning about glazes and kilns, what I should know but do not.
The accomplishments of these first days lead to new ideas for more projects — domestic, artistic and linguistic.
2 January 2015 (off-line for a few days)
Haiku for today:
That music soothes beasts
Has never been disputed.
The Black Cat heals woes.
It’s Friday night at the Black Cat School of Rock, blessedly just down the hill from our house. A group of mostly regular characters shows up for open-mic night in this one-room school. The playlist is mainly rock, but also some blues, bluegrass, and grocer Tim Newton’s beautiful, sad ballad “Timber and Coal,” lamenting the enduring loss that quick fortunes brought to a West Virginia town.
Someone (the owner?) has baked cookies and served potato chips on a platter on the piano, in proximity to the big tip jar, which is also passed around the room.
(William always marvels at how the performers fearlessly “put it all out there,” saying he could never do that. Maybe one day he will.)
The town of Berkeley Springs is considered by some to be a sacred place, where good spirits converge. There’s that magical hot water just bubbling out of the earth, right? Thus, it’s the annual gathering spot of all kinds of alternative healers at the Festival of Light.
For a five-dollar entry fee, you can find massage therapists for whatever hurts, palm readers, crystal handlers, future-tellers and past-life revealers. You may commune, spiritually, with a lost loved one, human or another species. You may purchase a stone or stick that was blessed under a full moon. (I’m sorry I did not buy the special socks showing acupressure points but attractive enough for daily wear.)
All of that harmless activity drew out this proud cross-bearing citizen, with his deep background of holy texts and protected by the First Amendment, who just needed all who enter here to know that this was contrary to the Christian Bible, and akin to devilry and witchcraft. (I heard that the local gendarmerie made a sweep of the building but found nothing technically illegal.)
I did not see his socks, but I think the burlap robe could be cited for a fashion crime.
Posted in Berkeley Springs, fashion, First Amendment, good for what ails, idea, missed opportunities, religion, street art
Tagged Berkeley Springs, do no harm, Festive of Light, healing, sacred space