201216 Forty Weeks December 2020

Sun Dog

               

dec. 16 

Today it is 18 degrees below and sunny: perfect for sun dogs, with which we are familiar from Edmonton, but which I have seen on occasion in Toronto, mornings and late afternoons. They are created by some atmospheric magic not unlike rainbows. Sometimes there are two complete mirage suns, one on each side of the true one. 

It is too cold for Fig to go out without a coat and boots. Here he is outside and here are his coat (second-hand) and baby mittens for his feet, also second-hand (the mitts not his paws), laid to dry. Actually my coat and K's are also second-hand although we have new boots: snow-trudgers from Canadian Tire. 

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Forty weeks: the length of a pregnancy. That's how long we have been in the covid-19 pandemic. In many countries it seems to be just hitting its stride. The pandemic's slow and misleading growth has taken us by surprise even as the vaccinations begin. Looking at how covid testing has proceeded I have no illusions about how long the vaccinations will take to execute. But I am the last one to expect this to end soon. I am also not complaining. This is where we are right now. A good learning place, a challenge to our take-it-for-granted western culture. Perhaps the scariest part is that we are in the middle of it, halfway through the course, just gathering the building blocks of the lesson, even inventing the tools for it, keeping them at hand until we can see a path or pattern forward. 

The tools that come to hand for immediate use are old well-worn ones that our parents knew well: frugality, conservation through re-use and recycling, knowing the difference between needs and desires. These tools, ready in my work-box, make me feel strong and prepared and resilient. I didn't adopt and use these skills particularly when I was growing up. We had so much, I took it for granted. Not that we were wealthy, most often our holidays were camping trips, we ate healthy homemade fare; even ice cream was a monthly treat, potato chips and take-out were a never. But we had skates and skis, and warm, if hand-me-down, clothes. Now, when a lot of stuff at once is hitting the fan, from health worries and financial chaos to climate change and social upheaval, we need to fight with all our strength and knowledge to keep ourselves alive, as individuals, communities and as one humanity. Embracing the challenges gives a sense of purpose to life that was sometimes intangible, and looked for in philosophy and immortality, but is now evident in everyday kindnesses and responsibilities practiced at ground-level.

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Public media is good. I want to hear about the rest of the world, how they are dealing with the difficulties of life. What I don't want from the newspapers any more is advertising of "best gifts", "Black Friday's best seller", $2 million homes for sale, fancy renovations, the sadness of missing a Christmas cruise. They seem like an insensitive affront to the millions of hard-working and essential workers scraping to make ends meet, and those whose livelihoods have dried up in the pandemic. Where is the real-life newspaper, the one that talks about Kraft Dinner turkey and best beans and rice, the gifts of masks and warm socks, the joy of finding a good coat, a pretty second-hand doll and a Tonka truck with all its wheels at Value Village?

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Tamar, who is seeing her small family through a bubble Christmas without grandparents or Nick's huge extended family, is putting her heart into it. She has been blessed to have kept her job, working remotely, the sole breadwinner. I am glad she can bring her children the excitement and joy of the holiday. Our celebration here will be quiet. We have our tiny crèche, and a candle. Our Christmas meal will actually be beans and rice, probably, since we have been eschewing meat and sweets and white bread. (What?! I used to love white bread, fresh, with lots of butter, and pasta with lots of cheese! But apparently my taste buds have embraced their inner hippie and want healthy, eco-friendly fare: out with the rich indulgent treats.)

Yesterday, Fig and I went to explore west of the house. The near meadow runs up the mountain, and there is a second clearing beyond the western tree-line that we walked up. I don't know where the top of our mountain is - it is out of sight. I found an old farm artifact, and a water meadow and frozen-over pond, a moss-grown quartz boulder and a fern still green in the snow.

             

           

           

Thank you for visiting. Enjoy the day. 

Mumma Yaga