Ordination

 

August 7, 2021

Sang for Will’s ordination into the priesthood at the Cathedral. Lovely in every aspect. Will’s friend from college preached a hole in the wall. Authority in one so young always impresses. Will was an toddler when I met him.. When we were in Rome together I asked him if he were comfortable with me and he said, “I’ve known you all my life.” 

The perfect bodies of the Olympic divers. . .

The perfect poise of the Kenyan who won the marathon. . . 

The solar smiles of the American women who won the last relay. . . 

 

August 6, 2021

Perfection of the garden. All is as I envisioned, except richer, because of things I had forgotten reseeding or reasserting. And the cannas are not yet even in bloom.

 

August 5, 2021

Paranoia about Covid led to AGMC’s rehearsing on the church lawn. At first I was infuriated by all the fussing and bothering, hauling benches and arranging things just so (If you’re that freaked out, just cancel) but in the end it turned our rather sweetly. We had an audience, who will probably remember us as a lovely accident of their travels through the South. Most of our music at this point is not what I want to sing. I say “at this point” knowing that the point will likely spread into a vast and enduring future.

 

August 4, 2021

No idea what happened to yesterday. I drove to Weaverville and bought a Whopper, without any understanding of my own motivations. 

Watched the Olympics. Tried to forget that I can’t walk to my car without having some occasion to holler “Ow!”

Invasion

 

August 2, 2021

Facebook account weirdly sabotaged. Discovered that the email attached to the account was not  mine. New account. Hate to lose all that history.

Got the cars inspected. The same guy did them both and didn’t recognize me from one encounter to another, exactly ten minutes apart. 

Upstairs writing when I heard an odd sound. I guessed what it must be before I saw it. When I reached the top of the stairs, I realized a bear was in my house, calmly walking from the kitchen into the dining room. She had torn her way through the screen on the sliding door with the smallest sound possible. She had taken a bite of Maud’s food, and was strolling farther in. The floor was wet from her splashing in the pond. The deepest sensation was incongruity, that big black head against the polished wooden floor–something I had never expected to see. The thoughts in my head were: what if she does not turn and run when I scream at her? What if she can’t remember how to get out and goes rampaging through the house? What if she charges up the stairs and corners me? But she made a swift (almost magical) escape after I bellowed at her. By the time I got to the door only the fleeing form of one of her cubs could be seen. I was shaken, but maybe less than could be expected. I think she was far less dangerous– and the fear of her far less lingering–than if she had been a human thief who got in the same way. I built a wall against the eastern basement window (which she had also torn out again) and splashed it with ammonia. I closed and locked the garden door. I can keep the house cool with fans. I thought of her often through the afternoon, imaging how difficult it must be for her to get a living for herself and two babies. I don’t know how she manages. I also wondered what she thought in those seconds. Did she know she was inside somebody’s house? Did she know it was MY house and she might be able to get away with it? Mischief? Curiosity? Hunger? Only now is Maud making an appearance from wherever a cat hides when there’s a bear in the house.

Opossum

 

August 1, 2021

Resigned myself, finally happily, to watching the Olympics until I fall asleep on the couch. Don’t know why I love the Olympics and never watch a single athletic event through the rest of the year. Scratching at the sliding doors got me briefly up off the sofa. An opossum had climbed to the top of the doorframe–somehow-- and was trying to get it. Maybe he saw the cat’s bowl. 

Wedding

 

July 31, 2021

Gray, steaming day, clouds low, heat high. Spent two days in Dahlonega at D and M’s wedding.  I think that part of the world sent Marjorie Taylor Greene to Washington. Wedding-wise, everything went excellently well. L and J rented a huge house and nearly 40 people picnicked at a “rehearsal dinner” (I don’t know whether there actually was a rehearsal) Thursday night. I reached my communications capacity fairly early, and had to sit out on the third terrace in the dark to recharge my social battery. Even then, M’s grandmother was telling me how she was driven to the Hyannis compound on a regular basis to do Ethel Kennedy’s hair. All the toast speeches at the reception were clever and kind and not cringe-inducing. D and D’s friends are a loyal and affectionate band of young men who remain close these many years after college, and seem to have integrated their women friends into the clan on an equal and hearty basis. It was lovely to watch them dance once all the uncles and grandparents had left the room. North Georgia is a scaled-down version of Western NC, the mountains smaller, the valleys narrower, the rivers rocky, thin. and scrappy. We hiked around a reservoir teeming with enormous turtles. 

M's other grandfather asked if I were retired. I said yes. He said, "You look like you were a banker."

His mother calls Daniel “Senator Daniel.” His appearance, his affect, what he reveals and what he conceals, all seem to make that kind of destiny inevitable. 

Received a royalty check from Red Hen. Gratifying! I suspected none had sold that I hadn’t bought myself. . . .