MEXICAN TRADITION-DAY OF THE DEAD.

The Day Of The Dead is on its fourth year as a celebration in Murphys. Here is a staged family out for a ride...

I don't know quite how different it would be in Mexico, but this is America, so of course, the dog rides in the back with the kids.

One of the vacation rentals puts on displays, and this year's theme was references to Frieda Kahlo. Beautifully done.

Folklorico representing various states in Mexico with traditional dances and  costuming held in Murphys Park.

Kids and adults dress up and paint their faces in sync with the celebration. This group was watching the dancers with rapt attention.

Like a statue, this little girl didn't move once during the whole set of dancers.

When this fellow came out with two, long blades, I knew we were in for something special.

Flashing blades at considerable speed, over head and under and between his legs made for quite a show. But then, a repeat with a blindfold on had me gasping.

No small feat. And with dire warnings from the MC, "don't try this at home."

Folkorico music always very fast and invigorating, the costuming beautiful. Very enjoyable. Jim attended a Day of the Dead in Mexico and said the music was deafening.

A tourist attraction, with staged displays made for a nice outing, but for some people, the celebration is very real, about the death of and remembrance of a loved one.

COMING TO GRIPS WITH GRIEF.

We all lose loved ones and we know it is hard to bear.  My friend Sharon lost her husband, mother and sister in a period of six weeks. She meets with a grieving group. She has many friends in her church and several nearby family members. Those connections play a huge part in healing. Some people have more difficulty than others and have fits of despair. I try to keep her laughing.

We went to what she heard was a good movie, thinking funny and full of laughter. It was a good movie, full of dysfunctional family, struggle for achievements and in the end a success story. The name of the movie was Joy, about a woman inventor. Empowering in its way, but funny  it was not. Still, stepping out, enjoying a burrito bowl afterwards at Firewood in Murphys, certainly entertained both of us enough to decide we should do it more often. I've promised myself.  Ciao

CHICKEN COOP AND VISIT WITH DAO SANG.

On Saturday and Sunday past, Doug, Virginia, Cedric and a helper, Mark Peel, built a chicken coop. Mark on the left, Doug in middle and Cedric  up top.


Meet the chickens, a white leghorn, red mirren mix and a barred rock red mirren mix. Two out of three, Blanche, Della and Cora another leg/mirren is out of sight.

Virginia helped me build feeders that do not spill grain on the ground. No waste.


Two of these will keep three chickens fed for about 3 weeks. The watering tank on the left, showing one nipple will last almost as long. The lay 1 and 1/2 doz. eggs a week on average.

The roof and door are not on yet, but we teased Doug about his taj mahal design. It is a pretty fancy coop that I will paint with enamel later. So far, having chickens is fun. Organic eggs in a store are about $4.50 a dozen. Calculated costs on-line for purchased organic mash, or GMO free mix your own organic feed, run $3.36 cents a doz. A couple cents more for the mash, a bit less for mix your own.
Since that is more eggs than I can eat, I hope to find one customer who will buy one dozen a week for $4.00 to help lower the cost of  eggs. Of course, I’ll never sell enough eggs to pay for the taj mahal. But, then, it is fun to have your own live chickens. I’ve owned chickens at every house I’ve lived in since 1962, except this one. But, for the many chickens I’ve raised, dozens, I’ve never kept them in a coop before. They always ran free in my city yards and my first house in Murphys. It will be interesting.


My friend Dao Sang came to visit and we spent an afternoon together. I hadn’t seen him since 2005. He has lost 40 pounds he can ill afford to lose and has been ill.  But, the first thing he did was peek in my garage to see if I was still driving my Prius. Yup!! We laughed. He needs special cars because he is 6 foot 9 and can’t fit into just any car.


Lunch at Grounds in Murphys is always a good choice. The day was balmy and beautiful. When we stand together, my head fits under his arm. I asked him why he wasn’t wearing his robes and he said, “I’m enough of a tourist attraction with my height. I only wear them when I’m teaching or at temple.” People do stare at him as he walks down the street.


We stopped and looked at the changes happening around town. And, wouldn’t you know we found a statue of Buddha in a store, for only $7,400. Yikes!  Buddha would be horrified. Anyway, sure enough, a guy in the store looked at him and said, 6′ 5? 6’7?  Dao mumbled, “6′ 9.”

I see what you mean, I told him. I lost my husband in 2000 and my dog six days later. Dao’s dog Daisey died and 6 days later he lost his mother. He remembered that about George. He and some other friends spent my first Thanksgiving with me, after George died, at the local free dinner in downtown Murphys.  So, our reminiscing had some sadness to it. In two weeks he, his two sisters and his three daughters will deliver her ashes to Sea Ranch near the Big Sur . I love the Buddhist religion. It is all about kindness, helpfulness and love, a true reflection of Dao’s personality. As Gus Dalsis, he became a Buddhist after his discharge from the Marines as a young man. He was ordained as Buddhist Monk, Dao Sang in 2004.

KING HENRY THE VIII

My friend Pam set me up with a book buyer because I have a lot of books. He comes from San Francisco and looks over your collections to possibly buy some that you have. I began to look at my books from a different point of view. This one about King Henry The VIII, by Neville Williams made me rethink King Henry because the  book is written with a more personal and kinder view of him. It is easy to get stuck with the historic view of what a terrible person he was to have wives and friends beheaded, and that he died of syphilis, which he didn’t. Not that beheading wives and creating the Church of England to wage a divorce were very honorable actions, but he was a very special king in many other ways. People of the times were motivated, especially royalty, by other factors than those we or his people faced. I guess what I’m trying to say is he wasn’t ALL bad. He was generous and intelligent and wanted to learn, in his younger days. The last 20 years of his life were pain filled from an injury that ulcerated his leg and eventually killed him. He was sour and mistrusting as he aged by the intrigues and manipulations of those around him who were set on protecting their own powers and favor.


And, because he was a king, there were many beautiful paintings in the book that I relish and enjoyed viewing. This one is just a small part of a full-page of pageantry. The wonderful celebrations and attention made of the King gave people better entertainment than television.  His peasants, who stood by the road to get a glimpse of him and his court, were enthralled. And, this king could ride through his kingdom without secret service people or a bulletproof glass to protect him, in beautiful fresh, unpolluted air.  It was interesting to think about those times and will the mind back to a royal society and what beauty it created, while also temporarily putting aside the cruelty of the times and understand how he could convince himself that several wives were not legally his wives.

It was a beautiful rainy day and we spent most of it home. But Jim’s Bronco needs a new transmission. Not good news.

PEACE AND REMEMBRANCE

My sister, Dawn, died yesterday after struggling with cancer. This is her high school graduation picture.

Her first communion. Families mostly took pictures on special occasions.


Dawn, the oldest, Bill, the first son, and myself, the baby.
Then, another brother, Dan, peeking out of the car.


In her Air Force Uniform.  I idolized my sister when we were growing up.

We didn’t have a family picture taken until Dawn was married and had four children of her own.  In front is Norman, Mark, on Dad’s lap, Clark on Mom’s lap, and Dan.
Mark died at age 50 in 2005. Dan died at age 59 in 2002. It is hard to lose siblings. But, I’ve discovered that those we lose are never gone. They stay with us always. I am thankful for remembrance of the times we shared.

BRAIN DEAD.

Some mornings you wake up and you are brain-dead. I tried to write my Christmas letter and all I could focus on was the accident and the aftermath. A close friend lost her husband Thursday. And, another friend's grandson was murdered by his own daughter's murderer, the husband/father. A serial killer on our road? Hard to believe.

Suddenly, I felt like I had no good cheer to offer this morning.  Gotta get a grip! Plus, it vexes me that I don't have access to pictures I took and stored with my Motor Home computer, and stuff on this computer is not available from the Motor Home unless I carry a heavy computer back and forth. They were uploaded to Picasa, but I can't figure out how to get them burned to a disk from Picasa.
I pressed a friend to teach me how to put pictures in a Christmas letter, so maybe I'll hear from him today. 

Yesterday, I put up some of the Christmas lights and have a living room full of boxes to decorate for Christmas. Not a card sent. Maybe today will be more productive and spirited. Put on the carols, have some mulled wine...hey, it is time to get into the spirit of Christmas.
Today, I'll just post a couple of old pictures I like.


I love this one of my brother warming his pizza on an iron. He was demonstrating how he did things in his younger bachelor days.


This painting from the Florence Griswold School intrigues me because it has that I'm taking a picture of you while you are aiming at me, effect.


And, this pen and ink drawing of a woman who seems just a bit suspicious of the viewers  motives.
Art heals, but I let the wood stove fire go out to remove the ashes and now I'm chilled. Gotta get a cup of coffee.