Halloween

Happy Halloween everyone.

And, more especially, happy birthday to my oldest, dearest friend and my godson. That's because the birthday means more to me than Halloween, which, I have to confess, I resist.

Seeing those increasingly kitschy and frightful decorations going up around our neighbourhood, starting around the middle of October if not before, gives me shivers of horror. I throw up my hands and reject it all. But then, as I remembered this morning, something different happens when the actual Eve of All Hallows arrives. Out on the streets in the dark, with little people scurrying around carrying black plastic lootbags and dressed in weird and wonderful costumes, there's a special and magical atmosphere that permeates the air. It's a kind of excitement, maybe a little hysterical, but fun all the same.

Tonight I won't be in disguise. But I might put on my black jeans and an orange T-shirt just to show I'm a little in the spirit of things.

So, I repeat, Happy Halloween.

Words words words

You probably know that I'm fascinated by words and how they're used, especially in regard to current norms. Recently the two that have caught my attention are 'remit' and 'purview'. Not words I ever even heard up till a few years ago. Now they're common.

As a writer of contemporary (mostly) fiction (mostly), I need to keep my word usage up to date. And that's becoming increasingly difficult for me, mostly I suppose because I seldom watch TV or movies. So I rely on what pops onto my screen via blogs and facebook to kind of keep me in the loop.

I remember my very first writers group back in the day (another new thing we say!). There was a woman about the age I am now who wrote good stories but... they came across as old-fashioned and from another era. It's a subtle thing, really, and somewhat scary for me. On the other hand, recently we've been reading 'Swallows and Amazons' to our grandson and that (mostly) comes across fine. I suppose this has to do with the imagination the book creates.

Complicating matters is the fact that the UK and the North America diverge on current speak. Which changes all the time. Right now I'm thinking of how we used to say 'It's up to you' whereas now people say 'It's down to you'. Personally, I think 'up' is more encouraging than 'down'. Don't you?

A missed opportunity

This morning I heard a radio review of the movie 'City of Life and Death' which will soon be showing locally. It reminded me of an afternoon long ago in Cape Town when I sat in our chiropractor's waiting room. (fyi, it's years since I went for this type of treatment).

There was an older woman there, and we started chatting. Soon she was sharing a life story with me, one I've always regretted not writing down afterward because it was so striking. The gist of it was that she was in Nanking when the city was attacked by the Japanese in 1939. It was the first time I ever heard of this historic invasion. She was on the sidewalk when a bomb hit, killing all the people in her vicinity except for her and a baby girl. They were both unharmed.

Her immediate reaction was one of wonder and question. Why had she been spared? It struck her that it was so she could care for the child. Which she did. Somehow or other she managed to escape, taking the baby with her... but how she did is the part I don't rememberl.

Her remarkable story has stayed with me over the years as one of destiny. What a pity I didn't write down the details at the time.

Leaves

They're what's fluttering by for me today. We're fortunate enough to have many trees, avenues of them, in our newish neighbourhood. So as I sit here in my second-floor study I'm still looking out at maples, mottled with yellow and orange and green. The locusts have shed their splendour and now stand bare, but for a few skeleton leaves, mostly right at the top.

Riding around my 'hood, I'm doing my best to observe each tree. And as I go, what I notice is that each street has a slightly different atmosphere. Right now tho, my attention is being drawn also to the increasingly-elaborate Halloween decorations, which seem to be getting mixed up with the harvest festival theme. I suppose that's okay, seeing as the original Halloween lanterns were large turnips!

So I'm riding past a largish garden, which has a row of skulls grinning from atop 18 inch sticks. But there are also patches where those same sticks sport silver aluminium foil flags. What a puzzlement... I mean, silver is connected to the moon, yes, but what did this signify? It took me a moment, but at last I realized.... these were simply to mark where new grass seed had been planted!!

How do you feel about Liszt?

Let's give a nod to Franz Liszt, on this, the 200th anniversary of his birth.

Now, I have to confess I'm warmish about him. My present perception is somewhat tainted by the last time I heard him performed by a solo pianist. This came across to me as all flash and thunder and sparklers, but in the end, fairly empty.

Thinking about this experience, I realized what's working in here. That is, my own writing. I'd say that I can do some clever things, but often can't reach or plumb the depths that I would like. Too much of the fluttering by, I suppose, and not enough quiet time in the chrysalis, or even further back, not enough time crawling along the ground and eating leaves!!

But that visiting pianist that I heard on a long-ago visit to my mother in South Africa, brought me a special karmic meeting. I was swimming in the lagoon late one afternoon when I was joined by an elderly couple. Considerably older than me, that was! We got chatting, and the woman told me they wouldn't linger because they were going up to town for a recital that evening.

So was I.

Turned out we had friends and other interests in common. I was invited for afternoon tea. That day, Daphne Wilson gave me a copy of a book she'd written that was pertinent to the research I needed for my spring 2012 novel, 'Cape Town'.

The world is truly a wonderful place.

Fwd. Fwd. Fwd. Perception and... Deception

Well, I received one of the above this morning. It was all about the time Joshua Bell played his violin incognito in the New York subway, and how nobody recognized him, hardly anyone gave him any money or stopped to listen, and how the children stopped but their parents all tugged them away etc etc and so fifth (to borrow from that other famous musician, Victor Borge). So the message was about perception.

Okay. I buy into that. We don't expect to see or hear a famous violinist playing in the New York subway. However, the story wasn't quite accurate. As I believe I remember hearing soon after this incident, there were two people who recognized him and stopped to listen for as long as he played. One of them had seen and heard him recently on stage.

So I was thinking and making a mental note to myself. The web is wonderful for all sorts of things, not least information. However, it's good to be aware that it can also be a medium for the spreading of quarter and half truths, deception and even outright lies. I'll try to keep reminding myself of that, and nevertheless to try not to be prejudiced in my perceptions.

Setting a Trend

For me, exercise has to be fun. Although I was never much of a walker when I was younger, over the years I got into it and enjoyed the pace and the chance to observe as I perambulated along. My husband would urge me to walk faster, lengthen my stride, but I soon found that interfered with my will to walk. So I took it at my own pace and, over the years, naturally got a bit quicker and walked farther.

But now that I'm waiting for a hip replacement (yes, folks by the time it actually happens I'll have waited over a year!!!) I can't walk more than a few yards without a struggle. However, I can ride a bike. Isn't that wonderful? I suppose it's because my legs don't bear the weight and the movement is forward and back rather than veering to one side or the other, which is not good for me.

So I can get out and enjoy being under God's heaven, look at the sky, clouds and the changing trees, appreciate the way so many households in our neighbourhood have mounds of colourful chrysanthemums in their outdoor pots. I'm very grateful for this.

But I've also noticed that since I've been riding around, gradually more and more of us oldies are hitting the streets with recreational rather than 'serious' bicycles. And why not? It's not necessary to have all the gear, although I do wear a helmet. That was on the advice of my daughter-in-law and I thought, 'well, you never know'. Even though I take to the backstreets at the quietest times of the day, it's still good to be cautious about road safety.

So, having written that, it's time for me to get out there. I just hope the wind is not too strong.

Paul McCartney marries again

You know, I think that's wonderfully affirming. Hopefully, one of these days my novel with this theme of why get married will see the light of day.

And I loved reading that he sang 'Let It Be' to his Nancy. Again, this song has something affirming about it, and comforting too. In fact, I'd say it's the one I sing most often. The later songs are not so familiar to me, as the Beatles were banned in South Africa, having been labelled as blasphemous.

What do you think about that?

In those Beatle days of mine in London, people used to ask 'Who's your favourite?' I confess mine was always Paul. Not that I didn't admire John and the others to some extent. Even though we frequented the same neighbourhood, I never saw any of them. But the wedding in Marylebone where we used to live brought back many happy memories. Yes, in the autumn of my life, I'm grateful for all the richness and variedness of my experiences.

Autumn and Vivaldi

Truth to tell, I'd never heard or connected much with Vivaldi until we came to North America. That was around this time of year. Because my husband was on business, we stayed at classy hotels where 'Autumn' was piped into all the foyers and public areas.

So now, yes, I find Vivaldi's music playing in my head each fall, enhancing my experience of glowing colours. And it's invariably on the radio. So we identify. But I was wondering what autumn was like in Italy for Vivaldi. Each country and continent, each state and province has it's own atmosphere, so it wouldn't be at all the same as here. I've been in Venice in winter, in Florence and Tuscany and Rome in summer (the latter, not such a good idea!)

But truly, for the epitome of an autumn experience, I'd say nothing can surpass where I am right here and now.

Steve Jobs + 56

When I open Safari, I'm on the www.Apple page because I haven't changed that to anything else. So I'm looking at the photo of Steve Jobs. More, I'm connecting with his direct, penetrating gaze.

Biographies fascinate me. In particular, I'm always on the look out for significant happenings that have to do with our seven-year life periods. What's striking here is that Steve Jobs died at the end of the 47 to 56 period, a time that for very many people is the most productive of their lives.

On a personal note, these were the years when I was mostly free of mothering obligations and had time to myself. I'm grateful that the grandchildren waited a while before putting in their appearance, because this gave me the chance to take up writing in a serious way. Creative writing, for me at any rate, demands peace and quiet, although I'm allowed to interrupt myself!

And just as the man said, I've slowly been seduced into the techy world of computers. Mine have always been Macs, and I'm grateful for the fact that entering this world was less painful because of this. Plus, I'm a firm believer and upholder of the importance and life-enhancing ability of good design.

And on another note, when I typed that +, a question rose. Do Buddhists also die in Christ? I imagine that they do.

Being frugal (in a small way)

My husband and I have this low-grade, on-going joke. e.g.
'Why are you doing that?'
'Because it's economical.'

Always a good excuse for whatever I'm up to!

Anyhow, this is why I've cut my slim plastic tube of eye cream into three short lengths. I mean, have you any idea how much stuff is left in those plastic tubes after you've squeezed your fingers up to the nozzle till they ache? I can tell you I've gotten an extra two-weeks worth out of my eye cream. That's quite a considerable amount.

Luckily I don't have this problem with toothpaste, as we always use the Weleda brand which goes the old-fashioned (and healthier!) way. And maybe I'll think twice in future about buying anything that's packaged in a plastic tube.

More on the outage (not strong enough to be outrage!)

Thinking about our power cut, I realized what a privilege it is to have a copious supply of hot water. A bath, a shower... we can luxuriate whenever we want.

Coming from Africa, water is a resource I'm always aware of and this year, when we had two summer months with a garden watering ban, reminded me of when we moved into our newly built home in Constantia, Cape Town. This was on an old vineyard and that spring we planted a rose garden of maybe thirty bushes (yes, we had enough land for that!). Then came the summer watering ban. Luckily, we were allowed to use buckets. So each bush needed a bucket a week to survive. I can tell you my arms grew pretty strong. All that trekking back and forth from a single tap on the side of the hill... but those roses were worth it.

The second thing the outage brought to mind was the lack of toast. I actually don't eat bread for breakfast, but my husband does. Still, I remembered my years of living in residence at the University of Cape Town. The food was really good in those days before outsourcing brought a decline in quality. The one thing we didn't get was toast. When I went home for the vacations toast was my delight and felt like such a treat.

Yes, it's often the little things...

My habit got me

My usual habit of a morning, after I've woken up, done my meditations and drunk a cup of tea, is to turn on my lap top and check my emails. Partly this has to do with the fact that England is five hours ahead of my time, and South Africa six or seven, depending on summer time (6) or winter time (7). So I'm interested to connect with friends and family.

But this morning we had a two hour power outage. To my dismay it took me a good half hour to get my head around that and accept that we were cut off from any outside communication. This was also due to the fact that our ancient cell phone's battery is failing and only keeps a charge for a little while. i.e. it was dead.

Yes, we have a gas stove, but otherwise our household relies heavily on electricity. And that dependence is kind of scary.

As to the outside communication, I've decided we need to find out if we can buy a land line phone that doesn't need to be plugged into an electrical outlet. During the sweeping eastern North American outage of 2008, this was the only way I could be contacted with the news that my dad had died. How very grateful I was for that old-style phone.

So now I've decided to break this habit of early email checking. This will be my soul-strengthening exercise for the month of October.  I'll leave the moment of switching on till after breakfast and see how long it takes me to be cool with that.