Back to the Garden

Spring is almost back and the rainy and relatively cold winter seems to have subsided.  With items gifted to me from my friends in Oakland who are getting ready to put their house on the market and other items I plucked from my Mom’s house that is about to go on the market as well, together with clippings from some of her plants, Shando has been helping me to make some dramatic beautification to the backyard.  I’m really putting my potting table to use.  The pictures are the before and after of one area of the backyard, but the video shows more of the green thumb I’m trying to develop.

 

Ganglion Cysts

From standing on the NYC subway and holding the strap-hang with my left hand for two decades while reading the newspapers (this was mostly before it was practical to read the news on a mobile device), I developed a ganglion cyst (actually two) which was starting to affect my mobility, not to mention being unsightly.  At least the subway is my theory on how these developed.  So even though I haven’t lived in NYC for ten years now, I had a surgery earlier this month to have them removed because they were getting bigger.  “Bible bumps” do not effectively go away if they are hit with a big book or even drained at the doctor’s office.  I wanted something that was sure to work, so the surgery required I be put under general anesthesia so they could be removed from a plastic surgeon by the root, which was all the way down to the tendon or bone.  I had to wear a splint for two weeks, but fortunately it was not on my dominant hand, or I would have probably never had this done.  My daughter visited me right after the surgery and brought me these beautiful flowers.

Adagio

I remember in one of our family trips back from the Sacramento area I was playing music with my Mom in the front seat.  Shando was always a gentleman and sat in the back when she rode with us.  I loved it when an old classic that Mom knew would come on, whether it be from Italy or some other place.  She loved Nat King Cole, Julio Iglesias, Engelbert Humperdinck and Josh Groban even.  Caruso was a classic Italian song I never quite mastered memorizing, but it was a song she obviously knew well.  Playing music in the car kept me awake and in some cases minimized her nagging me, although now of course I would take her nagging me about anything I miss her so much.

One time an Italian song came on that I knew the words to, and my mother was floored.  I’ll never forget her cackling in laughter, cracking up as I sang Lara Fabian’s Adagio in the original Italian.  She could not fathom that I would memorize an Italian song that she never heard of and  she just thought it was the funniest thing in the world that I was singing in her mother tongue.  It’s an extraordinary song by a singer who is of Italian heritage from Belgium and my Mom just enjoyed the heck out the moment, and I was so proud that I could share this moment with her serendipitously.  I think it helped Mom to believe that I would never truly be far removed from our family in Calabria if I could accomplish something like this without her knowing.  The odds of that song coming up out of the tens of thousands on my 180GB iPod was kismet, because I never again had a chance to sing that song to my mother.  The important thing, though, was that we had a magical musical moment and I got to impress her and show off to her.  

Here are the lyrics in English and then Italian:

I don’t know where to find you; I don’t know how to look for you
But I feel a voice in the wind that speaks about you
This soul without a heart waits for you slowly
 The nights without skin; The dreams without stars
 Images of your face that pass suddenly make me hope still that I will  find you slowly
 I close my eyes and I see you
I find the way to the door from agony
 I feel it beat in me
This music that I’ve invented for you
 If you know how to find me; If you know where to look for me
Embrace me with your mind
The sun seems to me extinguished
Ignite your name in the sky
 Tell me who you are; The one that I want lives in you
 The sun seems to me extinguished
Embrace me with your mind; I’m lost without you
 Tell me who you are and I will believe in us
You are music, slowly.
 
Non so dove trovarti, non so come cercarti
ma sento una voce che, nel vento parla di te
quest’anima senza cuore aspetta te adagio
 Le notti senza pelle i sogni senza stelle immagini del tuo viso, che passano all’improvviso mi fanno sperare ancora che ti troverò adagio 
Chiudo gli occhi e vedo te trovo il cammino che mi porta via dall’agonia sento battere in me questa musica che ho inventato per te
 Se sai come trovarmi, se sai dove cercarmi
abbracciami con la mente il sole mi sembra spento
accendi il tuo nome in cielo, dimmi che ci sei, quello che vorrei, vivere in te
 Il sole mi sembra spento, abbracciami con la mente
smarrita senza di te dimmi chi sei e ci crederò
musica sei, adagio…

Journalists and Anchors need to do their jobs too.

@andersoncooper Do your job to correct panelists! Twice last night you let two Repubs (some would call them a cracker and an uncle Tom) use the diminutive “Democrat party.” This is a thing! #doyourjob  The capital D name of the party is DemocratIC.

There is more to being a journalist than just fact checking and putting on a pretty face.  It’s not just congresspersons who need to do their jobs right.

Dubya, Limbaugh & Gingrich have been pulling this stunt for years and need to be checked on it, lest we do the same to them.  Don’t let them disparage progressives with this pejorative. Words are powerful and created by humans for a reason.

Follow me on twitter @haydennetdotcom.

Indivisible – Stay and Fight

My late mother has a home in Calabria, Italy, that is still in our family, but I have chosen to fight for the country where was born, even though I could move to Europe (where I lived twice) at a moment’s notice and legally become an EU citizen and resident with permission to work because of my mother’s citizenship when I was born.  
 
Former congressional staffers reveal best practices for making Congress listen. 
 
 

White people in the Midwest should only get One Vote too

I would like to live in a democracy (I’ve lived in two other countries that are, but not the United States).

I just signed a petition to President Donald Trump, The United States House of Representatives, and The United States Senate: Amend the constitution to abolish the Electoral College. Hold presidential elections based on popular vote.
 

I don’t feel that white people who choose to live in god-forsaken parts of the country where they think they can be entitled to 1.5 votes each should be rewarded for choosing that. Don’t get me wrong, living in fly-over country is just fine and that’s their prerogative, but they cannot expect a reward of their votes to count for more than one person. The result of the electoral college has ONLY been proven to be — and by design it is — to give white people (especially with means) to have more than one vote per person. This is why I oppose undemocratic methods of voting for the leader of the free world and this is how the PREDATOR in chief was elected.

Zaleski Wilson

This site is password-protected until such time as Michael and Chris say they want some or all of the content allowed for public consumption.

Celebrated the union of Michael and Chris (with their dog Brillo) in Dublin, California.  They are a very handsome and special couple, and we met a lot of wonderful people at their reception (they actually got married last December 24).  The day of their reception was also very special to me because it would have been my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary!

 

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