It’s been like living on Hell’s front porch in Maryland this month. (Did you know that during the Revolutionary War, French mercenaries were paid tropical pay when stationed in DC (which is carved out of VA and MD)? For the last week the dew point and humidity have been very high…Sunday it was 80+%. It was unbearable.
Today, however, we have a slight reprieve and I’m able to enjoy our gardens without passing out.
Like all of us there have been times in my life in which I actually wondered, "Will I get through this, and how?"
In the late 80s I decided to return teaching, and to apply in the county in which we lived and where our three teenaged children were in school. Being on the same schedule would make things a lot easier. I had let my certification lapse and so had to take 33 credits to be re-certified. While taking these classes at Loyola and Johns Hopkins I was also long-term subbing in a Baltimore County middle school for a friend out on maternity leave. Taking all this on was an, shall I say, 'energetic' decision on my part.
But I did it. There were times I was so tired that I got onto the Baltimore Beltway going in the wrong direction. Blessedly, I have a husband who is a wonderful co-parent, and our kids helped out a lot.
What I did not expect however, was my reception by Human Resources in the county in which I lived. My interviews went well; and I got enthusiastic feedback. The head of the department had said, "If you get an offer from another county, don't sign; let me know immediately". I did, and I did. The response was shattering. "Teachers like you are a dime a dozen", and even more heart-breaking, "I wouldn't hire you if you were the last teacher on Earth."
Winded from the punch and devastated, I did not know how to come back from this or to even understand what had happened; what I had done to provoke this?
One day when I was feeling particularly down, I grabbed a CD and heard this:
It look me a good while to recuperate. I accepted a job in Baltimore County, but decided I would apply for a job in my county every year for the rest of my life just out of principle. Three years later I got the job I wanted at my dream school, and became department head. I retired from teaching in 2007.
I went home by another way.
These are my favorite two months of the year. The woodlands are bursting with blooms, both verdant and fragrant. The smell of wild honeysuckle in the evenings is particularly comforting to me. I spend much of my time in the gardens: surveying; weeding; dead-heading.
This year the rose garden put on quite a show in both gorgeous blooms and redolence. We had a prolonged, cool and wet spring so many of the blooms waited for warmer and sunnier weather to appear.
We've also had a variety of visitors this year: a snapping turtle, a box turtle, fox, fat raccoons, red shouldered and Coopers hawks, pileated woodpeckers, a plethora of cardinals, blue jays, blue birds, flickers, and sap suckers, and, of course, hummingbirds!!
I've noticed that many folks are decorating for Christmas early. While we'd pretty much adhered to celebrating Thanksgiving before decorating, we've relented. This year has been difficult for so many.
With a year filled with animosity and vitriol many are finding their joy where they can...we being among this group.
And so we'll decorate, enjoy seeing others' decorations, have folks in for desserts and coffee, smile at passersby, take long walks in all sorts of weather and look for herons, fox, eagles, et cetera, send Christmas cards even to those who do not reciprocate, write a Christmas letter that neither brags nor 'eulogizes' our family (we've all received these), that is not filled with the trite, and that somehow brings some joy to those who read it. (This is going to be a challenge, but I think I can do it without being totally irreverent).
In short we will make our own joy, do what we can to help others, and be thankful and aware of the good that is in our lives.
Last night at dinner I ordered a glass of red wine. The couple with whom we dined were shocked. "You're drinking wine?"
"Yes, I'm drinking, thinking of taking up smoking, and seriously considering debauchery."
Are these not the new norms? Pathological lying; bullying until one gets what they want; consorting with enemies; inciting riots and sedition; infidelity in marriage, sexually assaulting women, undermining all established rules for one's own benefit?
Let's celebrate lack of refinement, ignorance, and abject vulgarity! Absolutely no virtue is worth defending, or should be left unscathed.
We have been lied to: Crime pays; the truth enslaves; God is dead; and the Anti-Christ is headed for the White House.
Wow! Have we ever been playing this wrong.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some deadly sins to investigate.
When did it become socially acceptable to shovel anathema and vulgarity on people with whom one does not agree? Now a commonplace act.
On our way to a favorite restaurant we saw a cute bungalow along this public and very visible national highway, boasting a huge flag with the words "F --- Biden!" for everyone, young and old, to see. (Try explaining this one to your six-year old.)
And in beautiful Rehobeth Beach, on the lovely square not four blocks from Biden's family home, and only two blocks from the church he attends, sits a pick-up truck with hundreds of Trump signs plastered on it. Not a problem.
(This is when I wish my pointer finger were a flame-thrower).
What I failed to mention is that it includes vulgarities aimed at both Biden and Harris. Vulgarities that I blush at mentioning. Despite efforts of local residents and Rehobeth business owners, the man refuses to move his truck as it is his First Amendment right. No matter how it affects others. To those the vulgarities are directed; to those who live there; to those whose businesses are affected by it. Evidently he is not capable of otherwise expressing himself.
What a dual-edged sword freedom of speech is.
I attended a very large high school (it might have been the largest in the state) outside of Philadelphia. I had not gone through the public school system, but had attended a Catholic parochial elementary school, and my first year of high school (ninth grade) at a private girls' school.
So when I transferred to Upper Darby High School as a tenth grader I was very much the odd man out... Friendships had been formed in elementary school, enjoyed and cemented in junior high. I did make friends: There were lots of chums I met in classes and homeroom. I had lunch with Dee and Michele everyday, took the trolley with Richie to early morning choral rehearsals, sang in the Concert Choir with Roger and Richard M, attended plays in Philadelphia...
My husband and I attended my 15th reunion. I saw folks that I recognized, but no one with whom I had been close attended. In fact, the folks I had been closest to had seemingly fallen off the face of the Earth. After we married 53 years ago, we moved to my husband's 'stomping grounds' outside of Baltimore, Maryland. I always envied that at any moment he could run into someone he went to school with; someone from his past. I missed that.
Fast forward a decade or three. I had tried contacting a few classmates. Dee made it clear she didn't want to be found; R never answered notes and invitations I had sent to him and his wife; Roger had died out in San Francisco (from what and when I never did learn). R2 did contact me. Now retired from a distinguished career in the military he lives not far from us in Virginia. He visited me at the school where I was teaching, we had a great lunch, and a sweet time catching up with one another, and then I never heard from him again. Lest I be misunderstood, these were not romantic interests, but a connection to a time and place I missed.
Our reunion is scheduled for October. Two of these folks will be there. I'd go but it would be for all the wrong reasons: primarily, I'd want to know why they ghosted me, and while I'm curious, I realize it's not that important, that I'm not important, at least to them.
Last week my dear husband had a slightly scratchy throat. Five years ago this would have meant nothing, but now... A few days later his symptoms developed into a cough, running nose, and lethargy. He tested, and of course was positive for COVID. He alerted our doctor who prescribed Paxlovid, which mitigated his symptoms within 24 hours. He's feeling much better and has now tested negative.
Several days after his positive test, I began to feel 'weird': the tops of my fingers hurt --(there was no visible injury (look up 'COVID TOES')), my upper back hurt to the point I couldn't move comfortably, and then I began to feel horrendously nauseated (I wouldn't wish this on...wait a minute, I take that back, I can think of a few public figures), and sleepy...and then lower GI symptoms ensued. And, I tested positive.
It seems one of the newer strains of COVID is this lovely GI version, and more than several people I know (no one with whom I've come in contact) have had it. Five days later and I'm doing a lot better. The nausea has abated for the most part, although Canada Dry and I are still close friends.
We have no idea when or where we picked this gem up, but rest assured: it's out there.
Several years ago we applied for a grant in which we entered into an agreement with the State of Maryland and Columbia Association to have a 'rain garden' installed on our property.
You may have seen varieties of run-ff mitigation along highways and in medial strips, where strategically placed river stone, and native plants have replaced grass. These areas not only protect bodies of water like the Chesapeake Bay from contamination, but they do not have to be so constantly maintained, and they look good!!
Rain gardens are one of the many ways to mitigate uncontrolled run-off from heavy rains. But in addition to controlling storm drainage into the Chesapeake Bay, they feature native and non-invasive flora, and so the added benefit to these gardens is they attract pollinators such as bees and hummingbirds, and they are beautiful as well as functional.
Here is ours in various stages of growth.
