Blog

Conversation about the weather
is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

-Oscar Wilde

Yes, I get what Oscar is trying to say here, but this weather is really very strange.

I woke up this morning and the windows were all steamed up and foggy, like those of an old Caddy on Lover’s Lane.

I went outside and it was like walking through a cloud. All my photographs looked as though I was shooting through gauze.

That’s because my lens was all fogged up. I wiped it clean and things went better.

If you go to the Baltimore Aquarium, you can ride an escalator up to the glass-enclosed roof, which houses a tropical “rainforest”. Birds and monkeys swirl and chatter above you in a thick canopy of green. It is supposed to be interactive and awe-inspiring and fun, but in reality it is hot and humid and oppressive and crowded and noisy and you just want to get out of there.

It is similar to this outside (may be a side effect of just having watched Cloverfield). It is 70 crazy humid degrees out of doors today, the air is thick, it is super windy; the leaves whirl all around overhead.

I have never been in the eye of a storm, but I think it must be like this: windy, with a strange light filtering through multiple layers of cloud, an overwhelming sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop. A house at the end of the world.

The ground underneath is totally saturated; thick and spongy and sucking hungrily at your feet as you walk. It’s not a nice feeling.

But wait! What is this?

I think… I think it’s the sun trying to break through. I’m not sure. It’s been so long.

Oh, my gosh. Would you look at that. Blue skies.

And large masses of turkey vultures, surfing the air.

I counted nine. I went back inside. I do not like the turkey vultures.

UGH. I guess the break in the rain combined with the warm means I have to help with the leaves. But I’m so damned happy about seeing the sun I don’t even care. I’ll take what I can get.

I leave you with music. FYI, this was the first record I ever owned, and remains to this day an anthem of my childhood.

Anyone else experiencing freaky weather today?
And out of curiosity, what was the first album you ever owned? (My first tape: Bob Dylan, Blood on the Tracks; my first CD, The Cranberries. Feel free to mock me.)

There are as many nights as days,
and the one is just as long as the other
in the year’s course.

Even a happy life cannot be
without a measure of darkness,
and the word “happy” would lose its meaning
if it were not balanced by sadness.

It is far better to take things as they come along
with patience and equanimity.

-Dr Carl Jung

Rain.

I grow weary of the rain.
In particular, this chilly, windy rain,
making each trip to my car a physical comedy, ice skating in well-oiled banana peels.
The wet leaves are treacherous.

I don’t actually think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. FYI. At least, I hope not.

I think that the change in weather encourages some primal need for hibernation, and that I’m doing my body an incredible disservice by wresting it from its warm cocoon of blankets and forcing it to perform menial tasks: the making of lunches, the doing of dishes, the taking of pictures, the brushing of teeth.

It’s unnatural. All I want is to burrow back in. It’s like some sort of obsessive fantasy. Soon I will get back in bed….

I baked a lot today, creating warmth and comfort while being productive and remaining in an upright position. Cookies and bread.

As you can see I cheated on my daily nature photos, taking them from the kitchen window… didn’t even open it, not wanting to invite in the bluster and the chill…

We will pretend they are intentional and artsy.
I look at them and I think, I’m melting, I’m melllllting……

On the other hand, I am beginning to look forward to the holiday season.
Time, perhaps, to come out of hibernation.

I am always doing
that which I cannot do,

in order that
I may learn how to do it.

-Pablo Picasso

Eleven years ago today, Jacob was born.

I was 21 years old. The company I worked for had gone bankrupt two months earlier and I had no insurance, no job to go back to. I was now officially a mother, a job that I was totally not qualified for. I had not experienced “parenting” in any sort of traditional sense, in fact had sworn never to be a parent myself lest I fail a child as entirely as I felt I had been failed, and, as a bonus, I had zero experience with babies.

I held my own baby, this tiny, fragile thing, in my arms; and watched the nurses with quiet terror.

Did they know my secret- that there was no way I could be a good mother? How could they not see? How could they possibly release this newborn into my care? I bluffed my way through until it was time to be released from the hospital and then a new fear grabbed hold- how would I manage when I arrived home?

I think back to the girl I was and I can still physically feel the echoes of that fear- so intense that it is forever seared in my consciousness, my nerves scarred for life.

My heart aches when I dwell on the months and years that I second-guessed myself, when I felt that I was the worst mother on earth, when I was afraid that others would discover this about me. I distanced myself from former friends to reduce the odds of discovery. I was certain that I was wrecking my children, that I was not the mother they needed.

I wish I could tell that girl to take it easy, to not worry about what it meant to be the perfect parent, to enjoy the baby years that passed by so quickly.

I wish I could show her what an admirable and remarkably well-adjusted child Jacob has turned out to be: with her slightly twisted sense of humor and love of reading, with his father’s natural athleticism and solidness and capability. A child who likes to experiment and discuss, a child who can be ridiculous and silly and infuriating one moment and a wonderfully supportive big brother the next. A thinker and a dreamer, and with an easygoing confidence with people that he certainly inherited from neither of his parents.

A child to be proud of, and oh, less a child each year.

My son, who led me down a road I didn’t intend to travel, who taught me so much about myself, who both softened my heart and inspired me to be strong. Who restored my faith in my own worth and in the goodness of other people. It is for his sake, for Maverick’s and Cassidy’s sake, for the sake of everyone’s children that I am determined to leave this world better than I find it, in whatever small and big ways that I can.

I think of it as a gift as well as a duty. But don’t worry- I gave him a normal gift too.

Happy birthday, bud.