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Inspirations in blue and a happy Monday, too

October 22, 2007

A rare event in urban Tacoma: my front door is open to the screen because it is such an exceptionally warm and beautiful October day. Yesterday, after days of rain, the air smelled of mold, and it’s wonderful when the sun dries things out and freshens the air.

My meager cortisol output must be doing something right, because my Cat just lunged at the screen door, making an impressive crashing sound, and I wasn’t startled. I noticed a tabby cat outside, and Coolidge of course cannot abide having another cat in his territory. Since he has never even been outside in the front yard, I have no idea how he acquires his territorial notions, but I think anything he can see he regards as under his domain. Fortunately, normal cat vision reportedly runs only around 20/100. This, we tell Coolidge, is why he cannot have a driver’s license.

Yesterday I listened to a probing sermon by Pastor Don Lindblad on the Christian’s duty to respect and obey the governmental authorities God has put in place. It is difficult for me to consider the American Revolution, or Cromwell’s, as opposing God’s ordered establishment. However, Pastor Lindblad made a compelling case for the Christological significance of our obedience to the dignities God has put in authority, and I rail disturbingly easily. And so Pastor Lindblad’s sermon has inspired much further thought on this. Human jurists are probably likely to be very poor at acknowledging that their sense of justice could be in any way defective.

I have a dapper over-diaper poncho half knitted for Rachel‘s baby, whose expected emergence is yet several months hence. I wanted to make sure I finished it on time. Yes, Rachel, it has come to this: a poncho, rather than anything very technical. You don’t want to wrestle with trying to install little arms flailing akimbo into sleeves, anyway, trust me.

Rachel, you will be further mortified to learn that I am preparing tea with a teabag in a mug of water in the microwave. Actually, I use a smashing Caribbean blue Tupperware tumbler.  I have bypassed the kettle and the teapot and the loose tea. I discern no difference in the taste. I drink mostly licorice tea that comes in bags anyway.

I am positive that I have neurons scattered about the floor, but I don’t know how to put them back into my brain. Very basic things are having to do. Such contentment was heretofore known only by small insentient lifeforms.

My insurance statements of benefits inspire me with wonder as to how long Premium Santa Care can last in this country. So far, of a whopping chunk of lab and x-ray costs for my Addison’s diagnosis, our carrier has paid about a tenth of the amount billed, and we owe nothing. I have no idea how the lab and x-ray facilities can operate for what they are paid, though I do understand that our carrier has “bargaining power” with its providers. Still, we are the beneficiaries of highly suspect privilege. I can only think this is the last best time to be sick in America. A resounding crash has got to be inevitable.

My friend Jane surprised and honored me with a gift of her art, which she says was inspired by the picture of my blue t-shirt that I wore on my front porch vacation last week. She matched the blue of my shirt in the bracelet, as well as the blue of my coffee tumbler, which she has never seen. So here are the three inspiring blue objects together, for the first time, in one big-screen spectacular still life.

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  1. heidi permalink
    October 22, 2007 3:41 pm

    Truly eternal. And I loved the picture of you in your blue shirt.

  2. October 23, 2007 12:59 pm

    Your still life in Blue is much more inspiring than any artwork I have seen with more pretentious names.

    I am, of course, shockingly shocked. If I knew you were in need, I would have dropped in on you Saturday evening just to boil some water for you. Idiscern that your attestation of no taste difference is really just guilty denial.

    Hopefully we will be getting our little one scanned in a few weeks. Then you can decide to edge the poncho in a gender appropriate color (if such a thing really exist-the gender appropriate color deal, not the poncho:-))

  3. October 23, 2007 1:42 pm

    Oh now I’ve worried you, and you in your delicate condition and all. But Stash Licorice Spice honestly tastes the same to me, potted or waved, so I will not withdraw my not guilty plea.

    Actually the object, which exists in more inches today, is multi-hued purples and greens and will be devastating on a redhead of either gender.

    But if I can help pick the Ralph Lauren nursery colors, do bring over the charts. We can pour over them while you boil water–or byot.

    Love you!

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