Neighbors Redux

Greetings from Domelandia,
The first blog I ever did was entitled 'Neighbors'.  It included an explanation of our choice to live out here in the wild world and how the presence of new neighbors had affected us over the years.  I ended the blog with a statement about how we would try to be good neighbors to the new people who moved onto the acreage behind us. 

That was in 2010.  Since then, they've come and gone.  Life here isn't for the faint of heart.  Or it turns out, it isn't for people who aren't ready for the realities of digging out after a snowstorm, muddy roads, or having to open several gates to get in and out of their place.

After a couple of years, they left.  They didn't tell anyone where they were going.  When we finally figured out they were gone, we weren't sad about it.

A couple of years ago on New Years' Day, we walked back there on the way to see the magnificent cedar tree we named Tawanda.  You might recognize that name as the definition of Female Power used by Fannie Flagg in her book and movie 'Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe.' We love that tree.  We hadn't been back to the end of the canyon in a long time, and we wanted to see how she was doing.

The hike through their place was amazing.  We saw black plastic bags of garbage, most of which had been torn open and dragged into the forest by bears.  Piles of junk of all kinds everywhere.  Old fencing, lawn furniture, generators, water heaters, water tanks--we could not believe what had happened to this beautiful little piece of land.  Piles of logs, some cut to length, left by the gas drillers for their use, were rotting into the ground.  Blasphemy!!

We continued to the end of the canyon where Tawanda stood in her majesty.  There is a cave at the very end with a smoky ceiling.  There was a waterfall we'd never seen, the result of a spring waking up after a couple of wet years.  It was frozen in mid-flow.  We went home a different way so we wouldn't have to be reminded of what the neighbors had left behind. We want to win The Lottery so we can buy the place and clean it up. 

I once dreamed that a Native American man was speaking to me.  It was right after I came to live with the Viking.  He told me it was our job to take good care of the land while it was ours.  He then turned sideways and floated into a hole in the air.  I took that vision seriously.  We've been good stewards--the scars from overgrazing and tree cutting are mostly healed, and our forest is healthier too. Visitors often comment on the Sense of Place they feel when they drive up the road to our house.  It sits in the middle of a little valley.  The morning sun wakes us and warms us.  It is our home.

We treasure the presence of people who feel connected to the land as we do. Our land isn't a revenue-generating possession, or something to be taken for granted.  It is an energetic presence that requires reverence and respect.

Wakanda Forever!!

Greetings from Domelandia,

A couple of weeks ago, the Viking, the Strawberry Blond daughter, and I went to Pueblo to see the movie "Black Panther."  We'd read great reviews and were hoping the movie was a big success.  As of today, the movie has grossed one BILLION dollars.

It was FANTASTIC.  We loved the beautiful and exotic costumes.  The strong characters were amazing and the writing was creative.  It was easy to get swept away by the story.  We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, suspending reality for those 135 minutes in the movie house, being in Wakanda, cheering for Good King T'Challa, his amazing sister and his people. 

Caution:  Spoiler alert--if you plan to see the movie, skip the next 2 paragraphs.

The turning point in the movie came when T'Challa's kingship is challenged by Erik Killmonger, aka the Bad Guy.  They started fighting and ended up struggling dangerously close to a cliff edge and a waterfall.  The two clashed closer and closer to the edge...the suspense was building...

Suddenly from the seat behind us, came the voice of a little boy.  "No! NO!"  Then King T'Challa got swept over the waterfall!  From the little boy sitting behind us, "NO! NO!"  And he started crying.  His Mom tried to quiet him.  It was all I could do to keep from turning around and saying, "It's OK, honey.  The King will be OK."  I didn't turn around then because I didn't want his Mom to think he was disturbing us.  My thoughts were about his innocence and the purity of his spirit.

The movie ended well.  As the house lights came up, I turned around and said to the Mom, "You have such a nice boy.  I hope he's OK."

His Mom said, "I know he was kind of loud.  It's his 8th birthday today.  He just got his cochlear implants and this is what he wanted to do for his birthday, to see 'Black Panther.'  This is the first movie he has been able to hear.  He hasn't learned how to whisper yet."

We chatted for a few moments, and then turned to go.  The little boy asked, "What did that lady say, Mom?" His Mom replied, "She said 'Happy Birthday.'"

There were only white people in the audience (think Pueblo, Colorado).  The boy was color blind (everyone there was, I think).  This was the classic story of the Hero's Journey, the battle of Good against Evil.  You cheer for the heroes no matter where they're from or the color of their skin.  You cheer for a better world.

The theater full of white folks and that little boy make me feel hopeful.

Dogs

Greetings from Domelandia,

We gathered with some good friends a few months ago to celebrate Cindy's birthday. 

Somehow (I'm still not sure how this happened) we got to talking (and talking and talking) about dogs.  At some point we were looking at one another, thinking, SOMEONE PLEASE CHANGE THE SUBJECT (!!)  but it never happened.  Later the host said, "And we weren't even smoking anything!"  The next day I emailed everyone and apologized that the conversation had gone to the dogs.  Now the subject of dogs in general has become an inside joke that we'll carry with us going forward. 

Good friends are hard to find.  And we forgive each other for totally weird conversations apropos of nothing meaningful.  (Kind of like this post).