is tammy’s muse wounded? lost? kidnapped? DEAD?
we do not know.
but we will get to the bottom of this.
peanut readers have been MORE than patient.
it’s time to put some super sleuth on the job!
many of them are out of work now. and could probably use the money.
in the meantime
the marine has invited me to go with him back to colorado just when the
aspens have turned in all their golden splendor.
we will go in the next 2 weeks or so.
he will be driving. so your worries for me will be relieved.
i haven’t driven off a mountain in a long time.
so my unblemished record will be intact.
and i will be safe.
with my marine.
and it’s not a back packing trip like he makes. though that would be nice.
we will visit the town where we once lived as children . . .
in a beautiful valley at the mouth of the royal gorge.
we’ll see canon and our house there and all the many places
we used to visit in the summers thereafter . . .
like this view of the royal gorge just a few minutes away from canon.
all those wonderful summers so long ago!
the summers when we weren’t in upstate new york that is.
it’s my favorite.
maybe some year i can get him to go back there too!
this trip will make a lovely end to a rather horrible summer.
horrible not only for me . . .
but also for some people i deeply care about.
and for their animals.
animals who are and were far more than animals . . .
a feeling that is totally understood by anyone who has ever given their heart to
one of these precious fur people.
and once again i have allowed the world to be too much with me.
the latest news and images from the bombing of aleppo has been very much
with me during the past week.
dust from the bomb obscuring his little glasses.
and . . .
you don’t know it . . . but that small boy in the orange shirt
covered with grey bomb dust-cement
looks just like my jacob.
it’s incredible really. so much so . . .
that he could BE jacob.
when i saw the video on CNN news i couldn’t believe it.
perhaps that’s why it haunts me so.
i sobbed and sobbed when i saw that video.
they have just found out that their brother was killed in the bomb.
they are simply trying to comfort one another.
to think there are little children who will never have a childhood.
who have known NOTHING BUT WAR their entire lives now.
with no end in sight. no place to play that is safe and not obliterated.
no childhood. think of it. cheated out of a magical time that only happens
watching the factors play out in syria is not unlike what the buildup of
the nazi regime must have been like before world war two.
while the rest of the world
and reducing the suffering of little children to the word ‘factor’ is deplorable
i think that’s why the news reporters wanted us to see these children.
when does it become personal to us?
when does it start to feel like OUR child? our grandchild?
i find it hard to be joyfully living in the face of such cruelty and carnage.
and we are all responsible.
regardless of whose side we’re on.
what country we live in.
what our political leanings are.
when innocent children die
it’s our fault. we’re the adults.
we who are entangled in the greed of oil. and the hunger for power.
and the inability to find a way.
we who are the adults of the world. who cannot or will not live in peace.
who elected officials and keep electing them
who made and make bad decisions in our name.
who start wars and continue wars.
others now pay the price. the littlest ones are paying the price once again.
innocents who only want to play and go to school and have a home to safely
return to at the end of the day.
just like our own children and grandchildren.
i have no answers to this mess. but somehow there has to be one.
there just has to be. before it’s too late for these little ones.
and i feel rather like a hypocrite.
for i am about to go on a short trip using gas that is otherwise not even
oil. oil. oil.
i who normally only drive back and forth to the grocery store.
i guess i need this trip. as you can see.
perhaps that’s why my marine suggested it.
i can get very dark lately. very quickly.
normally not like me. and he knows that.
the muse may be found in my beautiful mountains of colorado . . .
amid the whispering leaves of the golden aspen.
perhaps i will find my very own cottonwood tree that i used to sit inside
when i was just a little girl!
i hope to retrace my steps to washington elementary school in canon city.
to see once again if i can remember how to get there!
to visit salida and see the road carved out of the side of the mountain
that the stage coach traveled on.
people pay amusement parks now to have a ride like that.
to let my mind that sees only suffering little children rest from it . . .
and longing for the day they could rest from it too.
the captain reminded me it has been a long time since i’ve posted and to let
people know the lady of the peanut is okay.
and i AM okay! in body if not in spirit.
and given my past health record i suppose that is a timely request.
and now one last “and” . . .
perhaps the muse will miraculously reappear while i’m gone!
one can only hope.
til soon old bean.