NOAH, DO WE NEED YOU????

Even the positive sides of rain are being diminishes exponentially...plants that normally would thrive in lushness with copious amounts of moisture, are now slipping quickly into paleness and death. I am plucking petunia after petunia from each of my outdoor potted plants, as they succumb to excess rain, despite drain holes in the bottom of each pot.


Plants in the garden, like my cucumbers, that generally soak up moisture and lengthen almost before my eyes, are rotting in a sickly yellowness.


Seeds that have not germinated are relocated by washouts far from their original site.



Onion bulbs lay exposed far too early, the dirt having found a home somewhere else.



And the approach to the cabin basement is nearly unapproachable...water washed deep rivulets that are almost impossible to navigate.


There simply is no way to get to my workshop without an extra pound of mud on my boots.




I sink deeply into the mud as I walk to my basement door.


I, surely only one among many, am sodden and far beyond ready for dry days that come in...a...row. I am tired of snatching sunshine in tiny bits, rushing out to pluck the ever growing weeds between deluges. The promise of a week of clear and sunny days I hold only as a tentative truth.



Awakening to the gray and dreary days, despite the embedded beauty in them, has grown tiresome...


just before the rain falls...this is what it feels like:

HEAVY IS THE DAY

The days are many now
that have borne this gloom
grayness suffuses the morning pallette
mono-chromatically
the breeze nudges
tar-heavy
and everything
is swollen with the
wait.


JAS

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

My father has been gone for quite some time now, over thirty years. It hardly seems possible that I was younger then my daughter is now when my father died. I recall feeling somewhat orphaned at the time, losing one of my parents.

My father was a big man, at least it seemed that way to me. I believe, however, he was only 5'9" tall. He was robust...just short of really fat, rotund might be a better word. He had a big, booming, baritone voice... great for reprimanding the kids or belting out a song.

I can still see him at all of the Italian weddings we attended, up on the stage with a borrowed trumpet, white hanky ready to wipe the sweat from his brow as he did a great imitation of Louis Armstrong. My father also played the alto saxophone. Although he never had a lesson in his life, and I do not believe he could read music, he could play one mean instrument. Jazz was his favorite, and we kids spent many an hour sitting on the green sectional furniture in the parlor, listening. To this day, listening to the alto sax, whether it is jazz, rhythm and blues, or rock and roll, I stand in awe of my father. This is why the music of the alto sax remains near the top of my favorites.

When I was very young, he was off in the Navy. Below is one of my very favorite pictures of my dad. I love it for its statement about the times, and because it seems so campy.

My father is on the extreme left. Yes, the handsome one with the cigarette dangling from his mouth. (It seems that in the old movies, the handsome man often had a cigarette dangling from his lips.)

A picture of both of my parents. I am not sure of the age. I recall the dog on the right, Peggy, but I don't really know who the other dog is.

This is how I remember my father. He had huge, deep brown, expressive eyes, and yes a look could put me in my place. Still, most of my memories are of my dad in a white flour sack apron. My father was just about the best cook I have ever known. I believe he could think of ingredients and 'taste' them in his head, and then know exactly what was right with what. I grew up with fresh vegetables always at the ready, and I recall that there were times we might have been a bit hard up for money, but NEVER hard up for food. My dad never scrimped on food. He was into 'slow' cooking before it was ever popular. He simmered and stirred all day long...and he was the ULTIMATE BBQer. He was magic in the kitchen in other ways as well. No matter how large a crowd might unexpectedly appear, no matter how scant the fixings in the pantry, the wizard that he was could conjure up a meal fit for a king.



He had an old cast iron pasta machine that came over from the old country. (It sits in my kitchen now although I generally use a newer stainless steel one.) What a treat for all of us when he set it out and made home made pasta, which he did quite often. I can still see the broom sticks suspended between chairs in the kitchen, fresh pasta hanging over them to dry.

Dad, you are so often with me, especially when I am in the kitchen. I made homemade pasta just the other day, and I swear you were right beside me. I am so grateful for the legacy of loving good food, loving the preparation of it, and loving the serving of it. A whole lot of me is you.

WHERE OH WHERE IS THE SUN?

Did you ever get a really great idea, one that excited you so much, it was difficult to wait for its manifestation?? And then...as it was developing and coming to completion you had inklings of regret??? Well, my inklings are inkling away at me and wake me in the night.

It looks good, right!

Honestly, I do love the way it looks, and once it is painted the same as the cabin itself, it will look really nice. BUT...and there is a big but...as of right now, the basement leaks when it rains and it seems to be raining all the time these days. (Are we in Oregon?) We knew there was going to be a problem to overcome when I wanted the basement to extend to the edge of the deck, problem being, how to seal the deck (create some kind of ceiling) so that it was solid and dry. After many considerations...one being to lay cement on the deck floor, which I vetoed, my builder laid roofing rubber on the deck over plywood. Sealed tightly he thought. Well, standing in the basement there are small leaks along the seam where the cabin meets the deck. To say I am sick is like saying a tornado is a wind. Rudy, my builder, says he will solve this problem, and I am sure that he will, but in the mean time, I who envision tragedy at every turn (I think it is my Sicilian heritage) can't help but see this cabin as the biggest, most expensive mistake I have ever made.

On top of it all, as the rain has not ceased for very long, there is nothing but MUD everywhere around my cabin...everywhere inside my cabin as well. I AM SO SICK OF MUD and I must say, that simply adds to my 'black state of mind'. My workshop is strewn with dried mud, mud prints, filthy rugs, and general chaos. Needless to say, it is clearly not a pleasure to work out here right now.
I know the sun will shine??

On another more joyful note. Iris stayed overnight with us on Saturday. She is fun to have around what with all the pretending we must play! At one point she was my mother Sarah, her doll was my sister Jackie, I was Joanne, and she was pregnant with my sister Barbara, who she said was to be born in 16 weeks. She put Jackie in the doll stroller, took me by the hand and said, "Come on Joanne, we are going to the park." And so we did, and had a good time, I must say.


On Sunday we packed a picnic and went to Wild Cat Mountain State Park. She played on the playground equipment, we ate our lunch and then this lovely creature came crawling by. I extended my finger hoping it would 'walk' up, but it rejected me and went straight to Grandpa Freddie. Iris studied this with great interest and curiosity.

The bright spot in my otherwise rain-filled week.

Another bright spot, though if the sun were shining it would be even brighter, is the golden straw that spans the spaces between garden plants. I always think of the Fairy Tale Rapunzel and how she spun the straw into gold, and I have no doubt that it really could happen. Not only do I love the straw for its smell and look, but it also allows me to work in the garden no matter how wet it is, these pathways are always assessable.

This is the garlic I planted last fall, and it truly looks beautiful. I wish now I had planted more, as I know this won't be enough to get me through the year.

So, here I sit in the cabin as rain continues to fall, no fall is hardly the correct word for this deluge. It is dark, dreary, and downright miserable, and I vow I will NOT check out the basement today!!!