....a Wonderful Day in the Neighborhood!

Dear Reader,

What a day in the Park!

I got out later than I wanted to, as usual, but once I got out, it was wonderful! The weather was perfect, everything was green, there were folks out enjoying the Park, and many of the dogs and their people who I have come to feel are friends, came through.

The highlight of the day was the extended interaction between a terrific dog, Smokey, and three lovely little girls, who I think were getting their first chance to really "molest" a gentle, patient dog.

Smokey and his person, Linda and a friend came by; we began to have a nice chat, then walked over to the bench area to have a sit and chat some more. Farther over there was a family with three small girls playing; at some point they espied Smokey, and ran over to see him.

Smokey is a singular dog. He is a rescued German Shepherd; incredibly gentle, well tempered, and focused. All Smokey wants to do when he's out in the Park is carry and chase his kong toy. This is basically a stretched hard rubber ball; it takes funny bounces. He likes to have it kicked or thrown; he will chase it if it goes 6 inches or 60 feet. He will do this on end, to the exhaustion of himself and whomever is participating. With all of this focus, it was amazing to watch him patiently sit and be petted, poked, pulled, prodded and generally admired by 3 little girls, each of whom was no larger or heavier than him. A lesser dog might have snapped, not only psychologically, but at one of the girls; Smokey dealt with it all, in hopes that he would get to play more, which he did.

It was such a hoot to watch the girls explore Smokey, watch them run around, speak with their parents about them, watch them play with another dog who happened into the picnic zone. In short, for me, it was so wonderful to watch people really enjoying the area I work in. This is exactly the goal I am working towards; having the area be an oasis for folks to come out, enjoy the park, maybe get to know their neighbors, interact with the nature that's out there, and appreciate the park in general. I am fortunate that in this case, I was also able to sit down with folks for a while and chat and joke. Although I'm out there working, for me it is a social exercise as well; sometimes I talk to the dogs first, but I always do end up talking to the people. I hope at some point to make some real friends out in the Park.

This harkens back to my previous column, "Small Town: New York City"
(http://catbirdeye.blogspot.com/2006/12/dear-reader-next-time-one-of-your-out.html). I continue to be surprised at how many people I know, at least by face, in my neighborhood. I even have neighbors in my building whose names I don't know, but who give a nice "Hi" and a wave when I see them in the Park or on the street.

I really love this part of my life. I know I post many depression-inspired columns, and those are totally real. There are parts of my life that continue to frustrate and sometimes overwhelm me. Fortunately, though, I have a short enough attention span that a day like yesterday enlivens me for a good time to come; I might even get my new tattoo soon!

Happy Memorial Day,
Catbird

Friends for Life.....?

Dear Reader,

I've been thinking of my friendships lately. I've been thinking of all of the people I work with, sing with, enjoy the Park with, and how many of those people are really my friends.

Many of them are friends, in the immediacy of the moment. They are friends while we're in the room singing, or while we're in the office working, or while we're in the park chatting about the gardens, dogs, etc. But none of them is a "best friend." None of them is someone I could call in a moment of need or weakness or despair. None of them is someone I could call to "just talk," just blab or gossip or even argue. None of them is someone that I would not feel terribly guilty about asking for help, and awfully humiliated at being needy. And sadly, none of them is someone I could just call up and say, "Hey, want to go see a movie; or go out for a bite or a drink," or anything else social.

Over my lifetime, I've had few "best" friends. I can count them on one hand. And, they have always left, or I've left, so those friendships have been short-lived. The longest "best friendship" that I have had was my friend Joy, with whom I was friends from 1979, when we met through circuitous circumstances, until she died in 2003. I have been feeling this loss more recently on meeting a woman who not only resembles my friend in appearance, but in attitude in many ways. I do not expect to form a "best friendship" with this person, but she brought to mind what I had lost.

The other person I felt was a best friend in my adult life was a woman I sang with in several different groups, with whom I had an "occasional" interaction, but when we did get together, it felt totally easy and comfortable. Later in our interaction, I would see her once or twice a year, for a day or two, to compile her tax information and help her get her husband's materials organized. Although I did send a bill for the work (at her request), for me these sessions were much more about catching up and commiserating. Nancy died of breast cancer in March of 2005.

Having lost the only two "best" friends I have felt I've had in my adult life, I now know the meaning of the phrase "friends for life." I have many friends, associates and other relationships that have been continuous for my entire lifetime, or at least a good portion thereof. Of course, I've known my sisters for 49 (Amy) and almost 42 (Megan) years; I've known the woman I work with off and on since 1976 or 77; I have a few other folks I've known since college, which is nearly 30 years.

But no "best" friends; not really any friends for life. No one that I can call on, rely on or even impose upon, at least without feeling tremendous guilt. The "friend" test is that there is no guilt in the interaction; there is no feeling that one is imposing oneself, or that one has to worry about showing the bad or weak side. Best friends accept all, and do their best to help, if help is wanted. This is why I was able to see my friend Joy in the throes of Parkinson's disease, and feel terrible that I was losing her. I considered for awhile moving in with her to take care of her, but that was simply not possible. I felt badly that I wasn't able to do more for her.

I don't know if I'll be able to make another friend for life. I hope so, but at my age, everyone pretty much has their lifetime relationships sorted out, so there's little room for new ones. I do still hope I'll meet a man, but in the big picture, that person won't end up being my "best" friend, although the relationship experts say he should be.

I suppose if I could like myself it would be a start, eh?

Sorry to be so philosophical,
Catbird

We'll be "Tsarry!"

Dear Reader,

I have stayed away from politics here because I usually just get angry when I think/talk/write about the current political situation. However, the latest development has driven me to write.

A "War Czar (Tsar)" has been appointed by "W" to handle the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. I had always thought, perhaps naively, that there was a "Secretary of Defense," or a "Commander of the Joint Chiefs of Staff," or EVEN a "Commander in Chief" to handle these things. Now we need a War Czar (Tsar)?

And, does anyone know or remember who and what the original tsars (czars) were? Absolute, dictatorial, unilateral, unquestioned rulers; unelected royalty whose rule was only ended when the entire family of the last one was killed, including the children, because otherwise they may have come back as Czars (Tsars) or Czarinas (Ts... yeah, yeah).

Is it me, or is there something wrong with this picture? Are we getting yet another "presidential" appointment, who won't be voted on by Congress (not that that has done much), and who can't be removed from office by anyone other than the "President?" And what are the chances what he’ll be rejected by the Senate, as he is, apparently, subject to some approval? Will the Dems have the spines to reject this new invented office? All “W” has to do is appoint a few more people, in bogus offices, and he'll have the entire system under his control. All Congress seems to be able to do is hold pointless hearings, and maybe take down a flunky or two.

What the hell has happened to representative government, the Constitution, those things we learned about in Social Studies? Has the "W" administration circumvented them entirely, or have we relinquished our government by not participating? How many more czars (tsars) are we in for, at least until 2009? You tell me.

More for sure,
Catbird

Nature: Alive and Well, and Living in NYC

Dear Reader,

I have been gardening in New York City, in various areas, since 1991. I began working out in the medians on Broadway near my apartment building; three blocks from 101st St. to 104th St., where I gardened until June, 2003. Then, I was fortunate to get an area in Riverside Park, again near my building; my area runs from 101st St. to 103rd St., in what is known as the "Firemen's Memorial Island" section of Riverside Park.

Throughout my years out in the Parks, there have been things that have consistently amazed me. For one, how so many New Yorkers take so little notice of the nature and greenery that surrounds them in the forms of street trees, window boxes, pocket and larger parks, birds nesting (not pigeons; they'll get their own column), etc.

Then there is the matter of trash; it never ceases to amaze me how people think it's okay to drop pieces of paper and plastic, used kleenexes, straw wrappers, and the number one piece of trash in NYC, the zip strips from cigarette packs, on the ground, thoughtlessly, mindlessly. Do they do this in their homes? Who do they think will pick this stuff up, or do they even think that far in advance? I just don't get the behavior.

But the thing that amazes me the most is when nature explodes in the City each year. This happens every spring. At some point, usually within a week, it seems as if everything happens. The trees are fully covered in leaves; the shrubs are all flowering; the grass is all green; the violets and other flowers are in full bloom. Now, the reality is that we've already had the early bloomers; the forsythias and daffodils have hit, the callary pears (one of the predominant street trees) have bloomed and are leafed out, many of the early guys have all done their things. But somehow, it seems that everything else all happens at once.

When I went out into the gardens yesterday, I was inundated by green. My big shrubs were all shaggy and in need of a trim; the tiny flowers and catkins had all fallen from the ginkgoes and oak and covered the ground. The grass has shot up, the second round of bulbs has hit, and I am suddenly overwhelmed with pruning that needs to be done! The big trees are all leafed out; it just seems like last week I could still see through them out to the River (the Hudson). Now, I won't see it again until October, unless I go down into the main Park.

People think of Nature and the City as two separate and antithetical things. They are not. Despite the bricks and mortar, paving and cement, Nature can't be held back even in the middle of the most urbanized place on earth. Fortunately, there are enough people in New York who appreciate these green spaces, and support their care and continuing existence. The current mayor and administration seem to also appreciate greenery, and have programs in place to expand the green areas in the City. This isn't just an environmental fad; city planners have finally learned that people who live and work, or even just work in urban areas need those green spaces. People need their surroundings to reflect nature and the seasons, even if it's just a strip of land in the middle of a roadway.

I am so fortunate that I am able to participate directly in maintaining a great slice of green in the City, and am involved with an organization that works terrifically to maintain the green western edge of Manhattan Island. Nature IS alive and well, and happily living in New York City!

More pix to follow,
Catbird

Singing for my Sanity

Dear Reader,

You may have gathered from these columns that I am a singer. I am not a professional singer; I don't earn a living at it. But I have always been fortunate to be involved with groups that do high-level musical work, and sometimes get pretty "high-falutin" gigs. We did one of those last night.

I have been singing for as long as I can remember; informally as a kid, singing "Jesus Loves Me" with my sister for my grandparents' congregation when we were tiny (I, 5 and she, 3, I think). Singing along with the 45-RPM records we had as kids: Daddy would put a stack on the automatic record changer when we woke up on Saturday mornings; these would keep us occupied while he went back to bed for an hour or so, until it was time for cartoons. Singing along with the Beatles on the records I wore the grooves out on; learning the tunes, harmonies, rhythms, messages to the point where I can still quote nearly all of the Beatles catalog almost from memory. I finally became involved in "formal" singing in high school, in my second year. I was one of the "smart" kids, and had an extra course slot to fill. I was told chorus was easy, so I signed up for it. It turned out to be one of the most difficult classes I had, but fortunately, I was good at it. I learned to read music, perform, rudimentary vocal technique, and had an "in" to participate in the school musical each year. I had had several years of ballet, so I had a good sense of rhythm and tempo already; the dancing also helped in the shows.

When I came to NYC for college, one of the first things I did was find the choral organizations on campus. At the time, there were only two; the Columbia Glee Club (all men, except for a few female tenors), and the Barnard-Columbia Chorus, the community/Music Department chorus, each semester of which counted as 1/4 of a course. The grading was Pass/Fail, but amazingly, when I began, the conductor was Gregg Smith, one of the premier choral musicians and conductors in the country. At the time I had no idea who he was; he was also the conductor of the Glee Club, which WAS a big deal. In any case, I joined the chorus, not the Glee Club; I'm a soprano, and could not sing tenor. I was also accepted after auditioning into the Madrigal Group, which was a subset of the B-C Chorus. This was conducted by Gregg's then-assistant, Peter Schubert. Thus began one of the relationships which led to later relationships which have carried on up to now, 33 years later.

I have been singing continuously in choruses since 1971, with only two, 1-year breaks. These two years that I took off I look back on as a couple of the low points in my life. The assumption is that it's because I wasn't singing, but it could be I took the years off because things were so bad, and I didn't want to carry that into my singing. I don't know which it is, honestly. I am lucky that after each hiatus, I have been able to come back, audition, get in (!!) to superior (or soon to be superior) choral organizations, and become deeply involved in them. I don't just show up and sing. I get involved in the running of the groups; I have the "treasurer" skills, which groups always need. I inevitably end up on the boards, or helping in management in some way. I love giving parties, and this is also a skill choruses need.

The groups I have sung, and currently sing with have been comprised of very skilled, amateur singers and musicians. The word "amateur" is unfortunately seen as pejorative; in fact, it means "lover of." I sing with very skilled lovers of choral music and singing. I have spent lots of time and money honing my skills, as well. I was a music major in college long enough to get all of the basics (music theory, history, ear training); I spent several years cleaning house in exchange for voice lessons, and spent 4 years studying with a great teacher who helped me harness the real power of my voice.

It's funny though; if someone asks me to sing something for them (a tune, an ad theme, whatever), I can't do it. I can sing in a "formal" setting; I can sing when I'm alone with the cats; I can't sing informally for other people. Very weird.

This discussion was brought on by a gig we did last night. It was the 25th Anniversary Gala for Americares; the highlight was that we were singing for George H.W. Bush (41) and Barbara. I was only able to see his forehead from my place on the stage, but it was clearly HW's forehead! Bar was at a separate table, and I couldn't spot her hair. Bummer. Anyway, the gig went well, and my little bit of "production" went over well, apparently.

This was our last gig for the season. We reconvene in September, although I am hoping to have a party for the group out in the Park sometime this summer. It would be great to bring both of my worlds together; we'll see if I can get it together and do something.

More to come,
Catbird

Can't be Any Worse Than a Stick in the Eye!

Post Begun on 04/14/07

Dear Reader,

I've heard the title phrase above, many times. Now, however, I can attest to it first hand.

In what was, typically, a really dumb accident a couple of weeks ago out in the gardens, I got a stick in the eye full on. Wow! A stick in the eye is really bad. First, you're stunned, as in "What the hell just happened?" Then you realize that, although you don't have anything in your eye at the moment, something was just IN your eye, and hit it really HARD. You try to readjust your vision, but NOT RUB, your eye, and the vision doesn't realign. Then, moving the eye in its socket starts to hurt, as vision continues to blur. It begins to feel as if you have a HUGE grain of sand, or other object, in your eye. Exceedingly unpleasant.

So, I went through the regular garden "close down," put away my tools, etc. But on the way home I kept checking for blood, as my eye hurt more and vision didn't unblur. Got home, put in eye drops, eye wash. Sat with my head back and eyes closed, and the swelling continued and pain didn't subside. Total bummer. I finally taped it shut, completely immobilizing the eyelid. Slept on it that way, and it felt better the next day. I had no more pain, and although my vision was still blurred, it began to clear up. Now, two weeks later, I'm back to 20/20, or whatever it is.

ca. 4/21/07

All of this is by way of saying I'm sorry for the long delay between entries. A lot has happened since my last missive. I've had a birthday, though I haven't gotten the new tattoo yet; nearly poked my eye out (see above); had a great concert, the lead-up to and let-down from which were utterly exhausting; had various work episodes and problems, which I am hoping to solve.

Most of the time I still feel so overwhelmed by things, I just want to lock my door and never leave my apartment. But fortunately, when I get out into the gardens, I feel as if I can at least do that without anyone criticizing or second-guessing me. I sometimes feel that way with my chorus, as well, but there's a lot of other baggage there.

I've also paid for some time on "Match.com," which means that I am trying that venue to meet someone. I'm not thrilled about it, but I feel as if my options are limited. I need a decent photo of myself to post. The one good thing that's happened lately is that I've been able to keep the weight I've lost off; I've been eating right and not fallen back to cookies and take-out. I'm hoping I'll at least be able to keep this together.

April 29, to continue:

Well, I've been trying to get this entry done for a couple of weeks now, but have been too distracted, overwhelmed, or depressed to do so. I don't know why I've been so depressed; I think most of it is related to my chorus, for a number of reasons that I won't bore you with in this entry. Suffice it to say it has to do with politics, interpersonal relationships (or lack thereof), and general malaise. It's also just plain exhausting, and the feedback I get is sometimes so lukewarm, that I feel all of my efforts are largely unappreciated. I don't know why I keep knocking myself out for the group, but I do. Maybe I'll learn in another year or two.

The one saving grace has been the gardens. Although I am not getting out as early as I would like, and want to, I have been getting out for long enough periods to work myself into pain (though not too bad) and exhaustion (very bad). There has been a lot of rain, and a mountain (literally) of woodchips was dumped in my area several weeks ago, on which I have been chipping (ouch, sorry!) away at the rate of 5-8 wheelbarrow loads per day each weekend, weather permitting. The chips and the ground have remained wet for the last several weeks. Good for the garden, bad for my back, because it makes the loads a lot heavier, and moving and dumping more difficult. In the long run, it should be great for the place, however. I have enough materials to spread over most of the bare areas in "No Man's Land," and I'm hoping to get it covered while the soil is still damp. Hopefully, we'll have adequate rain over the summer, but if not, this groundcover will help keep things green.

I wish I could be as hopeful about other areas of my life. I still feel unable to deal with many issues, including meeting someone. I am hopeful that I'll keep the weight off. I have really retrained my appetite, and I think it will stick this time. The last time I was this "thin" in my adult life was from 1988 to 1992, when I lost about 35 pounds, and maintained that weight off for the entire 4-year period. I weighed around 135, which was a good weight for my bone structure; less than that, and I really started to look bony, which I didn't want. Right now I'm at 142, which is actually okay. I'm at about a size 12, and although I don't look "skinny," I think I look okay when I dress in clothes that fit. Or so I've been told. In any case, the last time, a major heartbreak and depression led me to gain the weight back. As this weight loss started with a heartbreak, I think I may be on the right track this time to keep it off. We'll see, anyway.

I hope to write more regularly again going forward. I do get something out of this, even if no one is reading. At least I know it's out there if anyone wants to (as if!).

More photos to come,

Catbird

What, Me Worry?

Dear Reader,

This is Big Guy. This is his normal sleeping position, especially during warmer weather. How can anyone not be cheered up by this?

I'm feeling better. Honestly, I don't know why. Maybe it's because I have this great cat to cheer me up when I get home. Kootie helps, too; her picture will be in the next column.

Maybe it's because a few people were very complimentary of my "new" body the other night at rehearsal, or maybe because several folks at the same rehearsal asked me why I wasn't auditioning for some solo licks in the pieces we're doing in April. Maybe it's because I finally ordered new pencils for the chorus, or because it's finally feeling a little like Spring again (after the winter, after the "spring" in January!), and I've been able to get out into the gardens and get my roses pruned and haul some woodchips.

Whatever the reasons, I'm feeling better for the moment at least. I'm looking forward to picking out my next tattoo to commemorate my next birthday, and then getting the work done. I'm looking forward to wearing fewer clothes as the weather warms up, and losing a few more pounds. I'm looking forward to planning the season-end party for my chorus, after our April 16 concert which, despite everything, will be good. Once the tickets arrived (late!!) from the printer, I felt that this program arc was finally in control.

I'm feeling better, big-time, because I've been able to really get down to business out in the Park, and with the early advent of Daylight Savings Time, I'll get a leg up on the work. That extra hour makes such a huge difference when one has the sleep problems that I do. That would be staying up all night, not able to go to bed, then finally getting to sleep when many folks are getting up. My circadian rhythms are so out of whack, but DST helps a little!

So, although I'm not a fount of cheerfulness, I'm getting better at least for the moment. This is probably a short-term thing, however. Depression has been my companion for so much of my life that I can't imagine it will ever go away completely, or even for a substantial length of time. I wish it would; I do not enjoy being depressed, unhappy, or otherwise impacted by this. It's just there. I try to get over it, past it and through it, but it always comes back. At least the meds keep me functioning.

So, we'll see how long this upturn lasts. I am going to try to do things that keep me feeling better and moving forward; again, we'll see. Writing here is something that helps me feel better; venting is always good. So, there will of course be more to come.

Catbird

At a Loss

Dear Reader,

I'm at a loss, though not for words. I've been holding off writing in an attempt to get some "real" work done: work in my apartment, cleaning out stuff; work-type work, to get some of the client materials out of my apartment; work in my gardens, weather permitting; work on my chorus stuff, to tie down some loose ends; even the most basic types of housework, like washing the dishes or doing laundry. I take a few starting steps, but can't keep at it; I get distracted by something, or just begin to feel overwhelmed and give in to watching TV or "googling" random things.

Lately I've been distracting myself by looking up recipes: (light) banana breads, muffins or different ways to cook spaghetti squash or other vegetation, soups, "healthy" foods. Over the last few months the one thing I've accomplished is losing 25 pounds; I'm not "thin" but at least I'm not as puffy as I was. But now I have to keep it off. Eating right is more labor-intensive than eating badly, and it makes for more post-meal labor. Dishes to wash, peelings (compostable), recyclables, whatever to discard, leftovers to store. But I am determined to at least do this: keep this weight off, and keep to a decent diet. I may be too depressed to move, but at least my cholesterol level will be good!

Depression is no fun. Even with medication, it's still possible to be depressed, even for long periods. Sometimes I feel as if I'm in a clear box that I can't break out of, no matter how I try. I take my meds religiously, but I frequently feel so overwhelmed by the vagaries of life that I can't even deal with the day-to-day mundanities. As I said in my previous entry, it's helpful to get out of myself and do stuff for other people, but this simply delays the inevitable: at the end of the day, I'm back in my apartment, looking at all of the stuff I should have done, and feeling overwhelmed yet again. Bummer.

What's the answer? I have no idea. I just keep trying to slog through and get something, anything done, so I can at least feel as if I've made one step forward. Though, then there are often two or three steps back after that. If I could just get to break-even, I'd be happy, I think.

Sorry to be such a downer. I really want to talk about some of the irritating conflict I'm having out in the Park, or even some of the irritating conflict I'm having with my chorus board. Or even talk about something positive, like developing good relationships with new clients, or toying with the idea of getting a dog, or all of the work I'm looking forward to doing out in the park (pruning season!).

But this feeling of being overwhelmed and overmatched by life is something I can't get past right now. I hope I'll have it worked through soon, because I feel stopped in my tracks, and I need to get started again. How?

Thanks for reading,
Catbird

Post-Valentine's Day Uplift

Dear Reader,

Okay, I'm feeling better than my last entry expressed. I've had a week to digest everything that was happening then: the computer guy came and did some helpful work (though not much more than I could have done if I'd wanted to really work harder at it); the ceiling didn't cave in when he saw the place, and Big Guy's friendly presence helped; the computer is working again, though AOL is still down which really irritates me, as I'm paying for it and they have given me no helpful advice to date.

And, despite the fact that this was the first Valentine's Day in a long time when I really missed having a "Valentine," I don't feel as bad as I might. I'm keeping the weight off, I have some new clients, I've discovered "The Sopranos," I got my music straightened and organized (except for my big scores, which placement I still have to figure out), I think I'm getting a handle on other issues, and best of all, I made "Valentine's Day" cupcakes for my chorus the other night, and they were quite well-received! I had one woman stride up to me with an empty "cup" and another half-eaten one and say "Did you make these; they're DELICIOUS!" So, I was pretty pleased with that.

I've discovered over time that one of the best things one can do for getting out of a deep depression is to do something for someone else. Sometimes the more "someone elses" you do it for, the better. So, I figured I would try to do something special for my chorus members. Our rehearsal was on February 13; I decided to do a "Valentine's Day Warm Up." It worked out very well, too. The cupcakes, my first baking effort in years, were a hit; the candy and minimal decorations brought enough cheer on a really crappy weather evening to help everyone feel a little better as they left rehearsal. Putting something out there, even as simple as a baked good, can be a risk, but this time it worked.

I had no specific Valentine, but in my chorus I had many friends. That helps me feel better.

I'm also looking forward to having an entire weekend to be able to get out into the gardens at last, and get started pruning and hauling woodchips. I'm in the midst of a debate with the Park Fund over the rapidity with which the woodchips should be distributed. I maintain that, as a volunteer, I should not have any time constraints put on my work. Apparently, the Parks Department (not necessarily the Park Fund) thinks otherwise. I'll keep you apprised as the debate progresses, but this is typical of Parks. They have absolutely no appreciation of the work volunteers do in their Parks, nor of the time constraints that volunteers work under. Generally, the Parks Department is poorly run, and ineffective. That's why all of the parks in New York City have volunteer-based organizations to keep them operating. If it were left to the Parks Department, there would be no usable parkland left in NYC; it would all be homeless encampments and trash heaps.

So, I'm feeling better. I'm also grateful that one of my old friends, who reads this column occasionally, offered to help with the computer issue. And, putting out a "shout" like that also got the attention, if only momentarily, of my family. It's sad that it's the only way to get their attention, and get them to initiate communication, but if that's what it takes, so be it, I guess.

No worries. There will be plenty of Catbird to come. Hopefully of a more entertaining nature, but more, none the less!

Best,
Catbird

Cascade Failure

Dear Reader,

I'm in a bad way, as follows:

I give up. I surrender. I can't do this anymore. I've just had a meeting with an attorney to handle some issues, and now my computer has melted down totally. Everything has stopped working; I took out Excel and Word to reinstall, and I can't reinstall. I can't use the second computer because the keyboard card doesn't work. I can't rebuild this system again; I've done it once already. The computer guy is coming tomorrow, and I know that's going to be a complete waste of time; he'll sit there and do all of the stuff I've already done, then tell me I need to wipe the hard drive and reinstall everything. I can't go through this again.

I am so tired of fighting everything; work, drinking, weight, men, computers, parks, my family, everything. I am so tired of everything feeling so hard, and being alone all of the time through it. With no one to help or support me. I am so tired of being alone. I've just had it.

I have someone coming in here tomorrow who is going to see this place and how screwed up I am, and I know it's just going to be a waste of time anyway. And I can't afford to pay someone $150/hr to tell me that the machine is beyond repair.

I can't do this anymore. I am so tired. Everything has been so hard and I just can't do this anymore. Nothing helps; beer, meds, gardens, cats, nothing helps anymore. And I look around this place and see a crazy person. I don't even have the will or energy to try to pick things up anymore. It's just overwhelming, and it's all me. It's not the lack of space; if I had more space it would be worse, because there would be that much more crap. I can't do this anymore.

I can't let them take my cats to WV. They'll just get sick and die there. I want to be cremated and strewn part in the Broadway Malls and part in the Park. Everything else can be trashed. There are a couple of small things, but I can't deal with that now. Hopefully my life insurance will pay my debts. If not, they can sell my stuff on Ebay and maybe get enough.

I'm so tired of fighting and struggling. I have no one to help me; I feel as if I'm always fighting the rest of the world just to stay alive. Forget about EVER being happy. Never has happened.

I canceled my appointment with my ocular oncologist, because I don't care if I have cancer. I hope it is, and it spreads. I can't afford to take care of it anyway, so what difference does it make?

No one will notice when I'm gone. Yes, I believe that. A few people will be sad for a couple of minutes, then life will go on. There will be no big gap. The clients will get someone new in; the chorus will get someone new in; my friends will get someone new in, the park will get someone new in, and my family will keep on as before, except they won't have the bother of my showing up twice a year to fuck things up. A big relief all around.

I am just so tired of fighting everything all of the time. I am so tired of justifying my existence. Might as well stop. Oh, I wish I could die or that someone would kill me. See? I can't even do this right. I can't even overdose on the meds I have. How could I kill myself? I don't even have the spine or courage do to that. All I can think of to do is curl up and not move anymore. I don't know what else to do. I am just so tired of all of this. I can't do it anymore.

And why didn't anyone ever tell me that "The Sopranos" was so fucking brilliant? As a soprano, I should have been informed.

Catbird

Whasss Uuuup!!!??

Dear Reader,

What to write about? Somewhere on my computer I actually have a list of topics, but today I feel as if I'm "listing," as a boat might, and have no real direction. It's winter, it's cold. We're between concerts and working on the basics of learning new music. New clients; reassessing old clients. Trying to do some of the typical "New Year" stuff; more personal reassessing, realigning, just cleaning!

My tendency is to bag all of this and just keep on as before, but I really have to fix some things. So, I will try.

It's SuperBowl weekend. No party invitations, nor did I extend any, although I would have liked to if I had the facilities. I make a mean chili, but this year, no takers.

I am bummed bigtime, but I want to keep that out of this forum if I can. I hope to get out into the Park tomorrow, even though it will be only 20 degrees or so. I'll wear my cross-country skiing garb, and try to get a few things done, though no pruning at this point; just too cold. Pruning season usually begins the first week of February, but this year it will have to wait until next weekend, if it's possible. We'll see.

Again, nature imposes itself on our lowly human plans!

Keeping a look out for Global Warming,
Catbird

How's the Weather?

Dear Reader,

I love "weather." To be more clear, I love extreme weather. I love it when it's incredibly hot or cold; huge, violent thunderstorms; wild winds; massive snowstorms. Now, to be honest, as a gardener largely dependent on nature, I'm not too crazy about droughts. But other weather histrionics fascinate me, and I love being outdoors when they take place.

Tonight in New York City is the coldest night in the last two years. When I went out, very late in the evening, it was 13 degrees; now it's 10. I took a walk down to the Park to see how things were. I was lashed by the winds that came off of the park and whipped up the streets; much like water flowing through a funnel, as the wind gets more concentrated, the flow is also more concentrated and forceful. It was so cold, I thought I might have a touch of frostbite. Nope, just REALLY cold extremities!

Despite this discomfort, I don't think I could live year round in a place that didn't have "weather." The very South (Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, etc.), or the West Coast would be so monotonous year-round, I would think. No contrast from April to September then October to March (to divide the year roughly); just the same, year long, comfortable, temperate atmosphere, with the occasional hurricane or wildfire.

Has anyone ever dared to wonder if that temperate climate is the reason so many areas in the equatorial zone have been subject to conquest by people from more variable climates, then, when the conquerors have been thrown off or withdrawn, have been unable to make their own governments, markets, etc.? Why is it that so much of Africa seems to be in constant turmoil and ungovernable, and why so much of southeast Asia and areas of Central and South America seem to also be in a continual state of confusion, or under the thumbs of dictators?

Could it be that the progression and contrast of actual "seasons" contributes to a society's ability to organize hierarchically and interactively, whereas no "seasons," just one long, endless summer, might make a group of people minimally able to organize? That is, as a whole, the entire society isn't able to organize into an interactive, self-supporting group because they don't necessarily need to rely on others, or even each other, for their existence?

I am aware of the terrible tsunami which devastated Southeast Asia in December, 2006. However, I am also aware that most of the footage that was shown was of tourist hotels, shopping blocks and other "westernized" areas being devastated. Very little was seen of the "locals." Is this because of lack of interest, or because the truth is many of these people, after mourning the massive losses of life, could simply raise another roof fairly readily and have their needs met, again, nearly immediately, by local small merchants? I do not mean to minimize the losses of life or property in any way, and I know that billions of dollars in aid went into Southeast Asia after the tsunami. But, to whom did that aid go; the locals, or the "westernized" areas, to get the tourist business back up to speed?

One of the problems with "Western" lifestyles is that we are so totally dependent on complex networks, not only of power and water, but also of food, medicine and other necessities. In New York City, historically, one of the greatest problems of major snowstorms has been the fact that food delivery trucks can be delayed in getting into the City. This led to folks eating sparrows and pigeons during the blizzard of 1888. There was nothing else available; some people had to resort to "hunting and gathering" to survive. This is also why, when there is a blizzard warning for the City, people still run to the store and clean the shelves. Who knows when the next delivery of brie and Stoned Wheat Thins will arrive?

Another thing I am surmising, in contrasting these two types of environments and lifestyles, is that those of us who live in more "interdependent" areas: urban, industrialized, food-dependent, weather relevant, need to think about being prepared for difficult times. That is, we need to have food, energy sources and water on hand, and need to be able to get from place to place on our own. I don't want to sound like an "End of Days" evangelist, but I think, given where we are and the recent actions of our government (who seem to care nothing about New York City) we need to be prepared in some ways. We can learn from these extreme weather occasions; to gather what we need to stay safe, and what we need to have with us to be able to get out and survive.

If we lived in a more temperate zone, we wouldn't have to worry so much. Then again, we probably wouldn't have DSL, cable or even reliable hot water, so thank technology for small favors!

More later,
Catbird

West Virginia Wrangler

Dear Reader,

The alternate title for this post was "Mommy, Can We Keep Him, Pleeeaaase??!!!," but was met with disapproval by the subjects in question. In any case, this is a story about my sister, two horses, and where the inclination comes from to rescue animals in need.

Whenever I visit West Virginia, there is always some kind of adventure. Sometimes it's mine, sometimes it's my family members'. This time, it was my sister's.

When I arrived, I got the regular update: current events in and around Adrian and Buckhannon, WV. One of the latest this time was that there were a pair of horses seen wandering loose on one of the main roadways down there, Route 20. This is akin to the occasions when livestock get loose on the Belt Parkway, or some other major thoroughfare in the City. Confusion and sometimes, hilarity ensue.

At some point my sister and her friend went up the road, which is very near to our place up there, to check on these horses to see if they were still wandering loose or had happened to find their way home. They had found a great place, not their home, but someone else's backyard complete with hay and some shelter. My sister happened to run into the animal control officer down there, who determined that the horses needed to be corralled, because they were not in their own yard. However, he didn't have the necessary facilities to either lasso the horses, or board them until their rightful owners were located. Fortunately, my sister had access to both.

As it happened, one of her neighbors from up the road happened by as the conversation was taking place. He agreed to bring his horse trailer over after he'd finished his other errands, to load the horses up and take them over to our farm (my family's, where my sister lives) to stay with her other horses. Then word would be put out that the horses had been "rescued" and were being held until proper proof of ownership was demonstrated, and a valid excuse for why the horses were wandering free was given.

So, my sister brought the necessary tack, her neighbor brought the trailer, and she got the horses into their coach with a minimum of trouble; got them over to the farm, and they seemed happy as clams in their new digs. Later on, the owners did come by, and the legal issues (restitution for property damage, animal boarding and care, etc,) were handled.

This is just a demonstration on a larger scale of something my family has always done: taken in the lost, damaged, ill animals (and sometimes people as well), given them a place to stay, and tried to help them if possible. Our first pet, in my recollection, was a stray cat that got caught in some outdoor furniture. We kept him ("Mommy, can we keep him, Pleeeeaaaasseee!!!???"), and even took him with us when we moved from New Mexico to Rhode Island! I don't know where this tendency comes from. For me, it comes from the feeling that I can't watch an animal suffer, since almost always they are suffering at the hands of some idiotic human. In the case of wild animals, helping them may be some effort to try to make up for generalized guilt at what we humans have done to their environment. I'm not sure if this is why my Dad feeds the birds (and deer, cats, and any others comers), but that's why I put the occasional seed bell out in the Park for the birds.

Both of my sisters have this same penchant, although with the farm, my youngest sister is in a position to do a lot more than most. She has taken in stray cats; dogs have been dropped off; there have been ducks, chickens, and these latest horses. Some of my "saves" have been cats I've taken from folks who no longer wanted them, a baby snapping turtle (who I couldn't save), and a baby pigeon, who I did raise successfully.

In looking back, I'm glad we've extended ourselves this way. In my case, taking in unwanted cats (and buying one from crackheads) has proved to be a source of much affection and satisfaction; they have all become wonderful pets and companions. Sadly, our similar efforts with humans have not always been so successful. As the saying goes, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. Usually, though, horses are smarter in this regard than people are!

Yeehah!
Catbird

Not Your Grandparent's Witchhazel! Actually, It Could Be...

Dear Reader,

This is a photograph of the flower of "Hamamalis Vernalis," in English, Common Witchhazel. I was hoping for a clearer photo but I'm new at this "nature photography" thing, so I'm still working on it!

In any case, it's January, supposedly the dead of winter, although this past weekend saw a day as warm as any spring day, 70 degrees! These little guys, though, would probably be in bloom anyway; the witchhazel is what might be called a very early bloomer (winter, before spring) or a very late bloomer (winter, after fall). This year for some reason, there is a great bloom on my witchhazel shrubs out in the Park; much more than prior years.

At a distance, the blooms are almost indistinguishable from the dead leaves which are still hanging on to the branches of the shrubs. But on closer inspection, these beautiful little red-orange flowers, which resemble four-armed octopi, are very evident. I wish I could convey their scent; it's a wonderful, cinnamony smell, surprising from such a small flower, in such a cold season.

We have another wonderful smell wafting over the Park these days; pure pine, from ground-up Christmas trees that have been mulched for us volunteers to use in the Park. We only get a tiny percentage of the discarded trees, even of those in my neighborhood. I see potentially tons of mulch, out on the sidewalk wrapped in plastic, waiting to be picked up by "New York's Strongest" (the Sanitation Department; since 9/11, almost every division of public service has an "-est"), dumped in a barge which will transport these perfectly mulchable trees to somewhere south, to then be dumped into landfill. I suppose they will help the decay process of some of the rest of the stuff that's in the dumping ground; but there is so much non-organic stuff in these places that I am afraid we're creating (hell, I know we are) timebombs that are bound to go off sometime in the future. If the landfills themselves don't actually explode or combust, the toxins that they contain will negatviely impact the surrounding environment, through the water tables, run-off, who knows. It's inevitable, though, that this can't be good for the planet.

In any case, I got my pile of lovely-smelling pine tree mulch, which will get distributed over the next several weekends. Along with raking and picking up trash, this is the only real work in the Park at the moment. Pruning doesn't start until February, when I'll begin working on my roses and other late-blooming shrubs. I'm really worried that many of the early bloomers, the quinces, forsythia and even some of the early bulbs, will be in jeopardy because of the extremely warm weather we've had over the last week or so. Many of them are either budding, or poking their heads out of the dirt, and if we have a cold spate they may freeze off and not be able to bounce back. We'll see.

Even in as unnatural a place as Riverside Park on the edge of Manhattan, in the middle of one of the most densely populated areas on earth, nature rules. I love watching the flow and changes of the seasons; even when they are as disrupted as they have been this year. Anticipating the crocus and daffodils in early spring, watching the trees come back to life, bloom, leaf, seed and then go dormant again, keeps me in touch with real, actual life, and the ebb and flow of it. I think many New Yorkers lose touch with that, even if they have pets and house plants. It's too bad, too, because there is so much nature to watch and enjoy in the City, like little, inconspicuous flowers of a shrub that has been on herbalists' lists for hundreds of years.

More to come,

Catbird

Starry, Starry Night...

Dear Reader,

I have recently been visiting my family in West Virginia. As I said in my previous post, “On the Road, Again,” this is sometimes a difficult task. Occasionally, the one saving grace of the visits is what I see around me. There is myriad wildlife; a herd of deer, a flock of wild turkeys, a rainbow of birds, even in the wintertime.

I’ve also seen hummingbirds (summer only) bats, bears, groundhogs, skunks, rabbits, and a variety of insects, large and small, including beautiful green luna moths (think of that Lunesta ad on TV), which are the bats’ favorite food, and ladybugs.

In the dead of winter, there are ladybugs everywhere indoors. These are the result of a WV program to try to stop one insect by introducing another; in this case, they are trying to curtail the spread of the gypsy moth by releasing millions of ladybugs into the environment. When it gets cold, all of these cute little ladybugs head for warmth indoors, and make themselves at home in everyones' houses. I love ladybugs in the garden, but they are not as cute or pleasant inside a house, though I still don’t have the heart to squash them!

On the domestic side there are cattle, chickens, who provide the eggs my sister and her son eat, horses, and of late, a goat! Oh, and the resident cats and dogs, who live outdoors in houses or the barn, at least for the most part.

Despite all of this zoology, the thing that really sets this place apart from the City is the sky. Not the daytime sky so much; we get beautiful blue-sky days in the City that I wouldn’t trade for anywhere else. But on a clear night out in the country, the sky is nearly unrecognizable from that of even the clearest night in the City. It’s easy to forget how many stars and other celestial bodies there are in the night sky. In addition to the few major items we can see in the City: the Moon, Mars, sometimes, Venus, occasionally, and the constellation Orion, there are dozens of other formations, and literally millions of visible stars.

On a clear night in West Virginia I can see the above-listed subjects, plus the Big and Little Dippers (Ursas Major and Minor); Cassiopeia; and many others that I know are constellations, and that I can never remember the names of. But in addition to these, there are stars upon stars; instead of a few stars with big gaps of black sky, as in the City night sky, there are millions of stars, with small gaps. It’s just remarkable, and makes me realize how small we truly are.

I think it would be really neat if, maybe once a year, we could have a “Black-Out Night” in the City. At a predetermined hour, all of the lights in the City and its environs would be turned off for 15 minutes, to allow people who never get the chance to get away from the continuous daytime of the urban environment to have the opportunity to see what the night sky actually looks like.

Who knows, it might make a big difference to some people. Maybe some young new astronomers would be inspired, or maybe some people wouldn’t feel so big and invulnerable. Probably not, but I can wish upon a star, can’t I?

More to come,
Catbird