Wednesday

♥  Love to you all.  ♥

Well, Color Me Charmed

The bus I took home from work late last night was decorated to the hilt for the holidays.  The fare-box was wrapped like a brick fireplace, there were wrapped packages and other decorations secured to the storage spaces in front of the driver and behind the driver, the windows were coated in spray snow, and sparkling tinsel garlands and ball ornaments were hanging the entire length of the bus.  O' that I could have asked the driver to stop the bus just for more picture-taking!  In almost thirteen years of using public transportation here, this was the single most charming trip I've yet had.  I told the driver her bus was wonderful, and she just laughed, so I don't know that this was her doing.  I assume she has a more whimsical coworker.  :)  As with the kites in Ocean City this summer, I love seeing that there are people out there who do things like this just to bring some joy to the lives of complete strangers.  Bless all the magic-making elves!

♥

That which you create in beauty. . .lives on for all time to come ~ Denis Waitley

As in previous summers, the neighbor's fire escape garden brings joy this August.  The colors and jumble of baskets, pots,vines, and flags are even more riotous in person, and I love peeking out the window at them. ♥

Photo-Heavy, Heart-Heavy

Nightmares plague me in my sleep, one after the other, and despite the walks, the vitamins, the distraction of work, the talks with Mike, the donations made, the healthy meals, the frosting-covered treats, the focus on kindness and beauty, the books read, the magazines curled up with, and the visit home to family, the days continue to be hard too.  In many dreams since the 27th, I am being chased and am running for my life.  In one, I was hiding with Stuffed in a closet from a violent man who had just cut someone's hand off in front of me before I had escaped, and Stuffed and I were waiting it out until I thought he had given up on hunting us and we could climb out a window and run farther from him.  In another, I handed a small gift-box to a friend at work, and it was only when she hesitated to take it from me that I realized that she was Jewish and was afraid I was tricking her by handing her a box that contained a bomb.  Then the dream changed and I knew there was, indeed, a bomb inside and that we were in danger.  In one dream I didn't remember more of upon waking, Mike had told me that we would be okay but would need to stick together and be careful.  In one last night, I was standing on the boardwalk in my beloved Ocean City when I suddenly knew that the stranger beside me had it in for me and I needed to leave, and to leave quickly. . . .Knowing there are so many out there who have lived actual nightmares and mourned real losses of friends and family these past two weeks only makes me sadder.  

The day I caught the bus home to visit my parents and brothers, I walked out of the apartment only to find a news crew filming an interview a few steps from my front door:  One of the victims' funerals was being held across the street that afternoon.  (I had known that but hadn't expected to see news cameras in my front yard.)  The first time I visited the synagogue to leave my flowers, a newswoman who said she was from Denmark asked me how I was doing and a few other questions, and I awkwardly made my way for home soon after, uncomfortable talking at all, let alone while her partner filmed.  Maybe in awhile, when the news is paying less attention to this little part of the world--and being realistic, that will be when the next big gun violence story "steals" the spotlight--that will help some, I don't know.  A peace rally to honor the victims will be held this Friday, and I plan to attend, and maybe that will help some too, and again, I don't know.  It sounds like something that might feel like a step forward.  I have a growing list of letters to write--the mayor is on that list--and gestures of gratitude and recognition to pass along--the local police and the nearest funeral home are two on that list--and maybe getting those things done will help some, as well.  I want to give, give, give but feel fairly depleted these days.  

This is my favorite season, but the juxtaposition of the memorials and police tape with the stunning foliage and (all the flowers and) fall light has made the past two weeks even more jarring.   Relatedly, it has been mentioned over and over again that the site of the shooting was also quite literally the real "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," since Fred Rogers lived just three blocks away.  On the afternoon of September 11th, 2011, a fellow teacher and I were driving home together since our classes had been dismissed early, and while we listened to the news on the car radio and talked some along the way, all I remember of the commute home was how brilliantly blue the sky was.   And now when I remember the shooting and these weeks that followed it, I will remember how the morning I took my roses to the synagogue was the prettiest morning I'd seen yet that fall and how striking the fall colors were that year.  This is just life, of course.  And it goes on, as the saying goes. 

♥

And End of October

Six hours after beginning to write this, I remain stymied by it.  Mike's mom called Saturday morning to ask if we were okay.  Mike was still in bed when she called so had no idea what she meant.  Had we both been up and ready to go out to breakfast an hour sooner, we would have been on the street of the synagogue shooting while it was happening.  This is our Saturday routine.  The synagogue's street is one I regularly do my long walks on so has been pictured in many of my "out on my walks" posts here over the years.  It is where I take almost all of my fall leaves photos.  It intersects with my beloved cobblestone hill, aka The City Street We'd Love to Live on Someday.  Our Dunkin' Donuts is two blocks away from the synagogue.  The theater where we just watched A Star Is Born is also nearby.  (A surreal sight is the movie theater, drugstore, public library, and ice cream place in the background of news coverage of a neighborhood vigil.)  The yard of the little stone ranch house across from it is planted every summer by what seems like a million dollars' worth of rainbow-hued flowers.  (Another surreal sight has been that of a CNN anchor reporting in front of it.)  The survivors of the shooting were taken to the same hospital where Mike's dad died a few years ago.  Some of the victims' funerals were held across the street from our apartment.  Coworkers and neighbors have more direct connections to the synagogue and are suffering more significant losses than these this week, of course.  For us all, this hits home.  I took my little gingham ribbon-wrapped bouquet of orange roses to the synagogue this morning, to honor this neighborhood, its first responders, the lives changed in it, and the lives lost in it. 

One coworker took her kindergartner twins shopping Saturday afternoon and was asked by one if someone would shoot at them while they were out.  Another coworker reported that her own synagogue was protected by officers in two strategically-parked police cars Saturday. . . .How many other cities have been through all this before, of course--the sidewalk memorials, the news coverage, the outrage, the questioning, the seeing-one's-own-town-in-and-on-the-news, the traffic detours, the funeral-after-funeral-after-funeral, the "victims identified" horror, the "victims' stories" sadness, the President's visit, the calls for donations, the announcements of blood drives, the defiant t-shirt slogans and signs, the city-wide vow to come back from it even better. . . .We are far from the first to go through this.  I lived in Baltimore, an hour from D.C., during the September 11th attacks and had lived in New York City the September before, and the heaviness felt here this week brings back the memories of that time.  It is our turn here now.  I don't understand hatred.  And I see this week that I don't understand it any better now than I did seventeen autumns ago. 

Meanwhile, it was a perfect fall morning here, with all the sunshine making the trees glow.  

The leaves are beginning to change color, and the sidewalks are every day taking on more of that scattered-jewels look I love. 

My sweet cobblestone hill is coming into its fall glory-- 

--even though police tape and memorial stars now line one end of it. 

This beauty and these signs of solidarity have to be my focus this week, though.  Forget the police tape, Val.  All the kindnesses will carry us.  A Boston hospital had a huge pastry order delivered to a local hospital this weekend with a note that read "We stand with you. . .Stay strong."  A neighborhood collection was taken up to have a bunch of pizzas delivered to the local police and fire stations located three blocks from the synagogue.  Local museums and attractions have offered free admission for families this past week.  "Need a friend or a shoulder?" our breakfast spot's sidewalk placard read by Saturday afternoon, I later learned.  "Coffee is on us today."  May I collect goodness and do my own part to spread it, all my days. 

God, make me brave for life: oh, braver than this.
Let me straighten after pain, as a tree straightens after the rain,
Shining and lovely again. . .

God, make me brave, life brings such blinding things.
Help me to keep my sight; help me to see aright
That out of doubt comes light.

-Author unknown, from Prayers for Healing, edited by Maggie Oman

♥

The Neighbor's Garden

O' to have even this much space for a garden!  I will try to feel more appreciation than envy.  The neighbor has brightened the fire escape next door, for sure. Beautiful.  ♥

Another Puff-Quilt Sky, and a Sandwich Shop Kindness

Tonight's sunset was another glorious puff-quilt of a sky, and I watched it for awhile, blissed-out and grateful.  Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, headache-be-gone-and-let's-focus-on-the-good-things. 

An item from today's page in the Book of Good Things, then:  Thursday afternoon, I stopped at a sandwich shop to treat myself to lunch, and when I attempted to pay, the counter-clerk told me the computer system was down and he couldn't process my debit card payment.  I simultaneously thought something charming and articulate along the lines of "GAHHHHHHHHHHHH!  THIS STUPID! WEEK!" and apologetically told him that I didn't have any cash on me at the moment, and he immediately told me not to worry and just to stop back in to pay him whenever I could.  I protested--He could hold the sandwich until I came back with the cash, I offered--but no, he meant it, and with a smile, he handed me my sandwich and kindly wished me a good day.  So trusting!  And in a city!  Here's hoping he didn't lose too much in profits before he could process card-payments again.  When I returned with the money yesterday morning, he smiled again as he thanked me and didn't seem at all surprised to see me.  Here is someone who has some good karma on the way, I'm thinking, and someone who still has an incredible amount of faith in the goodness of people.  I so needed that kindness this wearying week--He has no idea.  :)  I will choose to remember his act of kindness, tonight's sunset, yesterday's bouquet of pink roses, and all Stuffed's time at my side this week.  And with that, I'll turn the page.  ♥

Yesterday's Walk: ~ The more peace there is in us, the more peace there will be in our troubled world.~ Etty Hillesum

I only worked an eight-hour shift overnight Monday as opposed to the usual twelve, so I had more energy than usual after walking home yesterday.  It was a good morning, then, to pack my backpack for a longer walk.  After buying a carrot muffin and some watermelon, I got my bag together, filled my water bottle with iced tea and lemon slices, reapplied my sunscreen and lip balm (this kind, thank you, and I could EAT it, it smells and tastes so good), and set back out into the sun.  At the two-mile mark, I found myself admiring this fountain as I always do.  It is my favorite sculpture in one of my favorite spots in the city.  The University of Pittsburgh's Cathedral of Learning stands in the background, another of the city's great beauties.  In the nine years I've lived here, I've spent many hours on the benches that surround this fountain, sometimes with an ice cream cone and sometimes with a book, but always grateful for the oasis this spot provides.  May 2011.  And that a human being created this!  ♥

It was a hot and humid walk, even so early in the morning, but there was a nice enough breeze.  Nature provided hearts along the way, as it tends to do. 

When I last showed you Neptune, his pool was not yet filled with lily pads.  He has a more colorful world to guard now in the summer.

And into the woods. . . .

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Bliss.

The pond wasn't looking its best, and I couldn't take a step on its shores without crossing paths with dragonflies skimming the water.  I passed a man who was out walking and a few young women running through the woods, but it was a quiet park yesterday.  'Too buggy to lunch here, but peaceful.  And breezy enough to give relief, but not so windy as to keep the flowers from standing still for pictures. 

I returned to the park to find a shady spot for lunch. 

The site of what used to be Forbes Field, one of the Pittsburgh Pirates' earliest stadiums, ended up being the ideal place to put down my backpack finally and take a break.  Dappled shade and solitude!  It's another of my favorite places in the city.  It's a quiet and small spot, neatly tucked away into the campus that now surrounds it, but is one with so much history.  In 1935, Babe Ruth hit three home runs here in a single game.  Bill Mazeroski's home run that won the 1960 World Series for the Pirates was hit here too.  I never walk around what remains of the outfield wall without remembering that my grandfather and my dad got to see many of the greats play ball here.  

One set of three-tier bleachers was in full sun yesterday afternoon, but the other made a perfect dining room.  Shade!  The frosting and flowers I spread onto my muffin-now-turned-cupcake were pretty but not quite what I was feeling like after so much walking--it would be eight miles by the time I arrived back at home later--but the iced tea was soon almost gone and I could have happily eaten my weight in watermelon. 

After eating, I wandered around more before starting the walk home and noticed a table and chair set in the distance behind the outfield wall.  I don't remember it having been there before, but it will surely be one of my next lunch spots.  How dear is this! 

A rabbit sat still long enough for me to get its picture as I walked home.  Usually, they're too skittish and disappear as soon as I raise the camera. 

Two miles back to the apartment--

--and soon I was crawling into bed--finally--to sleep away the rest of the afternoon. 

♥