October 2022

Happy Halloween

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I am not one of those people for whom Halloween is a high holiday. I enjoy it, but I seldom dress up though I have fun when I do. Which begs the question — why don’t I every year?

Well, partly because I’m always a witch whether I dress the part or not.

We had punkins come trick or treating at the office on Friday. About 40 of them from a local preschool. One little girl solemnly told me, “I just love your costume.”

I miss the days when Chef Boy ‘R Mine was little. He rather enjoyed trick or treat and the whole costume thing. For his first school Halloween, the children were allowed to wear their costumes to school. That was the year of the infamous Ninja Turtle Costume — Donatello to be exact.

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Dancing Queen

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Shortly after my 17th birthday, 12 days to be exact, on August 15th, 1976, Abba released Dancing Queen in Sweden.  A couple of days later it came to the United States.  Recorded a year earlier, they knew it would be a monster hit.  They held it until the release of their 4th studio album. 

Photo by No Revisions on Unsplash

Oh my.

It was my anthem and ushered me with a full head of steam into my Disco phase.

She was young and sweet, only 17, a Dancing Queen, oh yeah. . .

Now then.  I will not apologize for Disco.  I’ve always said I never confused the music I listened to with the music I danced to.  These are not just different genres, but different activities.  Most of my favorites are not danceable.  There are a few exceptions and sometimes it’s quite bizarre – like the interpretive dance I do to Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, but generally speaking separate.  Separate but equal.  Good dance music is as good as good listening music. 

Disco was a hoot and a holler.  Step, step, heel toe, pivot….  The theater of it!  The clothes!  The shoes!  The glitter eyeliner!  The steps.  The twirls.  The lifts. 

I loved it all.

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The Williams River

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I woke up and felt a breeze on my face.  The strains of a mandolin and sunshine floated into the tent. 

My back hurt and I was cold, but I was happy.  At one with the universe.

We were celebrating Donnie’s life while she was still with us to enjoy her own wake.  Camping on the Williams River with the Bing Brothers – what we called a Bing Thing.  Always a good time. 

The rock falls on the Williams River.

This one was bittersweet.  It was the 4th of July weekend in the early ‘90s – I had 4 days off or something like that.  It was enough time to relax and get into the timeless groove of good music, good food, and good company in good surroundings.  The Williams River campsite in Pocahontas County was rustic and pristine.  It was cool – sometimes cold – a nice escape from the insufferable heat of the Ohio Valley.  These people had been camping there for years – loved it, honored it, took care of it.  There were a big bunch of us, yet it was still private and intimate.  A contradiction in many ways, but enjoyable in them all.

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Desire with Contentment

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My ex-husband used to say to me, “You just want it all, don’t you?” and I would say something along the lines of “Well, yeah, don’t you?”

Photo by Anukrati Omar on Unsplash

I am a hedonist and AND is my favorite word.  But I don’t think there’s as much of a conflict between desire and contentment as we’ve been led to believe.  Contentment is not the absence of desire.

I am, in many respects, very content. I love my home, my friends, my boyfriend, my dogs, my job, and my calling in life.  I want all these things and I work hard to maintain these relationships and duties.  There is a desire to maintain this contentment.  It took me a lot of years to achieve this state of being.

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