Wednesday, December 14, 2016

2016, enough already

Well, my pretties, it's mid-December and honestly, could this year just give its final chew and spit us out already? Doc Ock and Ms. M have promised us the best xmas present: a plywood 2016 that we get to BURN UP COMPLETELY in the farm's meadow on New Year's Eve. Can't wait to see this year go. Let's summarize: job stuff, dog stuff, health stuff, family stuff, oh and of course an
end of the world election

I'm pretty sure there was a survey in Reader's Digest or some such once upon a time that said if you had 1 or 2 of the above-listed life events in one year, you needed to be extra careful because you are UNDER STRESS and vulnerable to illness and decline and possibly lycanthropy. Well, we have the whole list, and I tell Phrodaux every day that I am proud that he is not a) curled in a fetal position, staring at the wall and b) not howling at the moon and/or harvesting livestock for dinner tartare.

We have had other challenging years, though this one may take the cake. (Wait, cake! That would make everyone feel better! I will go make cake!)

(Um, not enough butter in house for cake. I've let us all down).

Back to other hard years: 2011. It wasn't even the whole year, just a clump of weeks where a lot of things conspired to sap our strength, test our wills, try our patience. By mid-July the Fairy Queen was broken and mentally leaking antifreeze and about to break in half. Luckily, we had a road trip in front of us with the amazing S & N.

Based on that trip, we have compiled some advice that we should somehow find a way to take ourselves. So...when in doubt (or pain or existential distress):

1. Drive through a tree. Before you do it, get out and touch some trees that have stood for hundreds of years and truly do remind you that your problems are puny and fleeting.


 2. Drive Highway 1 down the northern California coast for a while. Drink in the scenery and be grateful for every turn and dip on which you do not plummet to your death. For real.
 3. Somewhere along Highway 1, find the world's most perfect B&B, celebrate your tenth anniversary there with a bottle of magnificent champagne supplied by your lovely friends, and watch as the owners do a little happy dance as one last couple pulls in (on Harleys!) and the No Vacancy sign is turned over for the first time ever.


4. See a lot of gardens. Small ones, big ones, famous ones, obscure ones. Look at stuff. Stop and smell things. Sit still for five minutes.








 4. Talk to strangers.Especially if they have done something arty to their house and are right there ready to tell you all about it.



5. Drink in other people's history. This might include falling down buildings, retro Italian restaurants, high-design guest houses, tours of San Francisco given by a native who will show you where he went to kindergarten along with more standard stops, gardens full of chickens, snooty people, and pioneer graves sites. Enjoy the drama from a distance because it is not yours.



6. Most crucial of all, find the tree. You will come upon it unexpectedly in a hidden corner of one of the gardens. It will be vast and white, warm and smooth. It is a sacred beast and you will gently touch it with the palm of your hand, then rest your cheek against it. All the blackness that has been living in you will flow out, subside, be absorbed by the patient bulk of this tree. You will shake and cry and know the sweetness of feeling empty, when your bucket of bad stuff is finally dry.


As a bonus, if it is even slightly possible, find a way to end a road trip with a motel room picnic, snacks and drinks spread out upon the beds, the thrift shop art you bought on the wall, and the coyotes singing right outside. 





1 comment:

  1. and now the drive-thru tree is gone too...

    ReplyDelete