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Difficult Passage From Mt.Lemmon
I had a daughter once. She died a suicide at 34. She rotted for a week before someone inquired about her. When my wife and I entered her quarters, riven with books, everything had the smell of decomposition to it. Alcohol, soap, fresh air, Febreze, nothing could erase that nauseating odor. It took me years to realize that her very flesh was embedded into everything she left. Horrible as the odor was, it was, in a way, her last effulgent gift to the world. She was embedded, would not leave. Did she ever live? Yes. I can say that — at…
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Lemmonade In Order Now As Explained
I am almost 63 now, feeling much like I was at 30, 40 and so on, as if the body of a car ages and the transmission still hums along, unseen, unnoticed, still running in the way it was when new. I prepare for my dying in several ways, non of which are helpful, for preparation is useless when the moment arrives. Aimlessly, I go further, repeating over and over the character nuances I have learned on levels of awareness unknown to myself. I am a top sent into motion by an unknown hand. I cannot stop. I just am an energizer…
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Spending Time With Mt. Lemmon
Over the weeks I have posted selections from my “book” of musings and reflections about the fire on Mt.Lemmon 5 years ago. I am 5 years older and I am editing as I go along. If you rifle through the blogs you will come across the first entry. I have now decided to enter the blogs on Mt. Lemmon in the order they were written. I’ve decided to do this to provide a continuity and to allow you and I to see how my musings have evolved. 22 June 2003, Arizona time 12.42 a.m. It begins. What is fire? I do…
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As I Blog Into The Ether
As I blog into the ether, that blowsy slattern who cares not, I found it odd that I was concerned about writing more about my experiences with Mt. Lemmon about 5 years ago. Odd because no one gives a damn, odd in that I should give a damn. I was concerned that too much about Mt. Lemmon might be a strain on the reader. What readers? If the task of a blog is to communicate, clearly I have not done so, paltry are the returns. I now view this blog as an expression of keeping my tools sharp, forcing myself to…