Did you know that “impending doom” is an emotion tied to the kidneys in Chinese medicine? I didn’t either, until this morning. A sense of dread. Closed for business. A not-so-much-ness that explains oh-so-much and helps me see, and trust, my current situation more clearly, through present-day lenses rather than the haze of the past. The headline says it all, at least I hope it does.
And that Pearl is sacked out in my bed with a 103 fever? Poor baby. She has always been susceptible to minor viral things, and historical record shows that often this kind of bug can last several days before burning itself out. There’s nothing quite as tender as seeing her curl up of her own accord, close her eyes, and voluntarily fall asleep, this kid who usually goes-goes-goes till she drops.
And another thing: it is a spectacularly beautiful day today. The humidity blew out, and the breeze is the kind that makes me miss July before it’s even over, the kind of weather you wish you could eat. Despite Pearl being sick, I had an unexpectedly good morning.
Aviva’s at Petra Cliffs camp this week. She’s one of two girls in her group of ten, the other being a friend she has known since preschool. They’ll do rock climbing, ropes courses, kayaking and, on Friday, caving. She swears she won’t do the caving, but I would put money on her coming home with filthy clothes Friday afternoon and a mile-wide smile of personal accomplishment.
Here’s some news: the fabulous Michelle over at Bleu Sky Designs (she did my brochure) just sent me some possibilities for a book cover for my poems. As I suspected she might, she nailed it on the first try. It’s a work in progress, and I’ve just added a couple of newish ones to the collection, rounding it out to thirty-six titles total. This feels appropriate given that a) it’s my age and b) it’s “double chai.”
No, not chai as in the delicious Indian tea, but chai, as in that clearing-your-throat sound, as in “living,” as in l’chaim, as in “chai-five!” In something akin to Jewish numerology, also known as the system of gematria, the two Hebrew letters of the word add up to 18, making 18 a number with special spiritual significance for Jews.
Well, a self-proclaimed “hot tamale” just wandered down from her nap and is ready to watch the Geena Davis version of Stuart Little and munch on a cold apple. Motrin works wonders. As William Carlos Williams famously wrote, “It is difficult to get the news from poems / yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.” Who knows if he would have said something similar about short little blog posts.