Light blogging

I have other duties today, like prepping the labyrinth for a wedding this afternoon.  I’m performing the ceremony for an old friend and his long-time lady love, and either it’s been raining or we’ve been otherwise occupied.  So today, I have to do all the mowing and trimming and fixing up.

I actually have a checklist for “prepping the labyrinth” on my phone’s to-do app.  It has no date assigned to it; I just duplicate it and give the duplicate a date.  And that date is today.

So maybe a leisurely blogpost tonight, around the fire, after a simple ritual.

Oh, and also I have to create an invoice for the Moscow Charter School, in Moscow, ID, which is performing as much of William Blake’s Inn as they can manage in May.  So there’s that.

Lost and found

Back in 2010, my Lovely First Wife and I found ourselves in Seattle, where we were staying with inlaws-to-be and attending the Winter Olympics across the way in Vancouver. While there I purchased a little charm, as in charm bracelet/pendant thingie, an old typewriter key: MARGIN RELEASE.

I blogged about it here.

tl;dr: on old typewriters, margins were set by physical metal “tabs,” and if the word you were typing at the end of the line were only going to go past the margin by one or two letters, you could press this key and it would allow you past that boundary.

I bought it to be a talisman on the new Utilikilt I purchased there in Seattle at the flagship store, and I wore it on a little chain attached to a belt loop, along with a little clay talisman of the Man-in-the-Maze design that I got in Jerome, AZ.  The effect was trés woo.

Alas, it has vanished.  I’m thinking that it was last week when I was vacuuming/mulching all the leaves from the labyrinth for an evening out there.  If so, then I might still come across it somewhere.

However, it just as easily could have vanished at any point in the last four or five months.  If it fell off at Alchemy, then I know it’s gone—although I have repeatedly stumbled across items there that I thought were gone forever. Still, I’ve ordered a new one from Etsy, all the way from Australia.  That’s the one in the picture, actually.  I’m prepared to face the margins again.  If the old one shows up, I can gift the new one.

In preparing to write this post, I did a quick search for the original post and realized with something of a shock that it was written at about this time in 2010—seven years ago.  This was before getting and losing the directorship of GHP; before retiring; before becoming ordained by the Universal Life Church so I could perform wedding ceremonies; before I even thought seriously about attending Burning Man or indeed knowing that there was a regional burn here in GA; before formulating the Nine Precepts of Lichtenbergianism and beginning my crusade for world domination.

I have pushed past a lot of margins since then.

The Labyrinth ::sigh::

I was all prepared to rant about that idiot Gregg Phillips, who has been the source of the fable that “3 million illegals voted”[1] in the last election.  I was going to advise Chris Cuomo and other denizens of cable news to confront him, call him a charlatan—A CHARLATAN, SIRRAH— and eject him from the studio.

But I’ve decided to blog about my labyrinth instead.  I’m going to eschew the righteous bitterness of our time and instead radiate hope and light.[2]

Last night, I and several people I like had the chance to sit by the fire in the labyrinth, and we took it.  Since the new iPhone is supposed to be able to take better low-light photos, I put it to work.

This is my favorite place in the worlds.

Isn’t this beautiful?

The new corner (above) is shaping up very nicely.  I have a new stone slab that will be a bench there; stay tuned for updates.

The bowl at the west point.

Either your daily reminder of your mortality or your daily swig of vodka.  It’s all about choices, innit?

My friend Dionysus was in fine fettle last night, broken arm and all.

There, don’t you feel better?  I do.

—————

[1] And yet, somehow, failed to swing the election to Hillary Clinton, for whom they all voted.

[2] Shut up, I am too.

Meditation

Every fair from fair sometime declines.

This is my favorite sentence of all time. It is from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18, and for me it encapsulates the bitter truth of life: entropy rules over all. Nothing gold can stay.[1]

Every fair from fair sometime declines.

The phrase kept coming to me as I worked to prepare the labyrinth for the Tour of Homes. Because of the nature of the Tour—everything is supposed to be pretty—I was reseeding the labyrinth with a “contractor’s blend” of grass, i.e., a mixture of regular fescue seed and winter rye, which grows quickly and provides you with a vividly green carpet at any time of the year.

Rye is extremely temporary. It grows and, after a month or two, dies. That’s fine. I only needed the labyrinth to look “pretty” for Dec 3. After that, nature could resume its cycle.

Because normally I do not try to maintain a green labyrinth through the winter months. It is pretty, but part of having this meditative space is learning to see the beauty in all phases of its life. Bare branches, brown ferns, dead grass—all are part of the way life goes. It is best if you can love that.

 

Yes, the tired old metaphors of our human lives winding down apply. Shakespeare as usual says it best, this time in Sonnet 73:

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold…

Part of our sadness about the entropy of our lives is our consciousness that while nature’s course will cycle back around—the leaves will grow again, the ferns will push up through the humus, the grass will sprout as green as before—with us the decline is permanent. We don’t get to be young again. We won’t, as the sun shifts back to the north, find ourselves regaining our muscle tone or youthful skin or mental acuity.

This of course is our ego’s perception. It is not reality. The leaf falls from the tree, but the tree is still alive. So it is with us. “We” may die, but the universe is still alive. Thinking that somehow our ego will continue to exist after our death is essentially planting rye grass: shoring up a false hope that will not, can not last.

Every fair from fair sometime declines: words to live by.

—————

[1] This is why, in my setting of Sonnet 18 for men’s chorus and two cellos, that line is the musical climax.

The GLRP, 11/22/16

Have a look at this:

This was a thing we picked up in Virginia when cleaning out the family homestead.  Besides the loop on the right, the end on the left is flattened.  We have no idea what it is/was; if I had to guess, I’d say it was a spring kind of thing from some large machine, perhaps a train.  Comments are welcome.

Whatever its original use, I decided it would be a lovely thing from which to hang a light, and so today’s task in the Great Labyrinth Reclamation Project was installing it over the new nook in the southwest corner.

Simple project, actually: 1) saw off some copper tubing I had around; 2) screw it to one of the uprights on the fence with brackets.

3) Stick the flat end in the pipe.

Now it can swing out to any position you need.

Serving suggestion.  Clearly I want to find something cooler and larger.  For the time being I can use one of my solar lights.

Technically-speaking-wise, I don’t suppose I needed the copper tubing.  I could have just used brackets small enough to contain the iron thing.  But I like the effect, and the tubing keeps the end of the iron thing from digging into the fence itself.

The GLRP, 11/11/16

This was a pleasant surprise.  I had decided, you may recall, to claw out a place from the very back corner in the southwest.  It was previously just a jungle of ivy and whatever volunteer plants sprang up.  I had planted a variety of ferns there over the years, but the ivy choked out everything not at the edge of the planting.

So when the fence builders ripped out all the ivy, I decided not to let it grow back.1  My plan was to pave over it with the same flagstone I used in the fire pit area and to create a little nook of some kind.

And…

All in all, a pretty spectacular little spot.

The stand is a bird cage stand.  We think we will find some kind of hanging lantern that can go on it.  (Since taking that photo, I’ve moved it to the other side of the block wall in order to clear more space in the nook.)

And look at that planter I found when I went to buy the flagstone at Mulch & More!

I think I’m not planting anything in it.  It’s just delightful/provocative enough by itself.

—————

1 Yes, I know it will grow back.  I am prepared to do battle.

The GLRP, 11/9/16

More terracing, this time at the westpoint:

A slight revamping of the westpoint bowl just to make it balance better:

There remains the northwest corner:

I’m still thinking about the area, but I think I will terrace this area as well, with stone steps curving down the left of the area.

The GLRP, 11/08/16

This was fun.

First of all, at Home Depot when I went to load the 12 bags of top soil into my car, I discovered this guy:

Thinking that there were too many ways for him to come to grief in his current setting, I scooped him up and brought him home.  There was a moment of panic when I carefully unloaded the car and he wasn’t there—what if he had decided to burrow under the seats and die?—but I found him and as you can see he’s fairly content to be my friend.  He finally leapt to my shoulder and from there to the hostia by the southpoint.  I haven’t seen him since, but he should be fine.

You will recall from yesterday that I had begun the mini-terrace at the southwest corner.

I decided to lower the far range of blocks so that the border bricks were all on one level.  I could have done that by dismantling the whole thing and digging a deeper foundation, but I found it easier just to replace the concrete blocks with others half their height.

After I got the whole thing walled in and filled in, I stepped back and took a good look at it.

Those who know the Lichtenbergianism process know that it’s time for GESTALT and SUCCESSIVE APPROXIMATION.  My thinking was that the sinuous outline of the terrace was lame.  It did not resonate.  Its woo factor was pitifully low.

So I fixed it.

Still some adjusting to be done—brick-cutting, etc.—but on the whole I think it’s much better.

Long shot:

I am halfway considering paving that circle around the tree with flagstones like the fire pit and the back corner, but that won’t be until the spring.

I also have concerns that the brick edging is precarious: a slight misstep will knock them off.  If I weren’t so averse to permanence I’d cut them to fit and then cement them in place.  Oh well, if that becomes necessary at some point in the future, we can do that.

Next up: the back corner.

The GLRP, 11/07/16

Back at work on the Great Labyrinth Reclamation Project, this time on the southwest corner.

You may recall that the new fence, in cutting a straight line from one corner to the other, cut off some of my “landscaping” at the far end of the labyrinth, and so I am having to revamp that corner.  It’s always been problematic in that the bricks that I used to create a border were continually being covered over by soil washing down the little slope there.

So my plan is to build a small wall and fill that in with dirt.

Here’s the bottom layer of wall:

And more:

I didn’t buy quite enough blocks, so back to Home Depot today.  I will also buy the fill dirt to put in there and then seed it.

Meanwhile that back corner will become a nook of some kind:

I already had two large pieces of fieldstone, so I went ahead and put them down.  I’ll get to this area later this week.

Onward!

The GLRP, 11/01/16

I bought a timer for the sprinkler last week—none of the timers I had bought previously worked, of course—and so the labyrinth was watered while I was on Lichtenbergian Retreat last weekend.  When I got home on Sunday, I went to check on things and was astonished to find:

The grass seed has already sprouted!

Now to keep it alive for another four weeks…