Yah, I Get that a Lot

Yah, I Get that a Lot

Aren’t you…um…whatsername?”  “Didn’t you used to teach at (Nortel, Bell Helicopter, Johnson & Johnson, Imperial Tobacco, Harris Farinon, etcetera)?”  “Weren’t you on a cable TV show in Ottawa…yuh know, a show about card-reading and stuff like that?”  “Weren’t you my Teaching Assistant at Carleton U…the one we called, ‘Attila the T.A’…you were tough, man!..wasn’t that you?”  “Aren’t you one of those bra-burners who ran that Women’s Centre at Dawson College in the late 70s?…was that you?”  “Aren’t you the girl that Quebec Cine-film wanted to be a double for actress Carole Laure…you know when she was still famous for ‘Night Magic’, that incredibly strange but wonderful film she made with that other Quebec actor, Nick Mancuso?”  I know you’re somebody–or were somebody–I just can’t remember who.  Who are you…exactly?

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Peach Cloud

Peach Cloud

There are certain things, which, like air, I need to live:  Fred, my Bouvier, who is ever-present though he has stepped away these last three years and gavottes in heavenly fields with my aunt whose loss leaves me permanently lonesome; a passionate purpose like my relentlessness about compassion towards animals, especially horses; astrology which brings me closer to those heavenly pastures; and David (though if you tell him, I will deny it immediately) whose radiant inner goodness defeats every attempt he makes to be macho.  My computer and car would be third cousins, important but not as essential as all the former.  Not least are my gardens and within that circle would be my irises and my hostas (although, in case they’re reading this, all my plant and flowering plants are important to me).  I will be posting pictures of my standard White Irises shortly (which are profuse) and the surprising Peach Cloud (tall bearded) which appeared as if by magic in my back garden; at least three feet tall, featuring seven buds on two stems (two only!) and sporting a tangerine beard.  (Who knew?)  My favourite is purple but I must say that just by Peach’s size and leaf fall (quite majestic), I have been seduced into loving–if not its colour–then its sense of its own importance and uniqueness (how many peach-coloured Irises have you seen lately?).  The Iris is connected to the goddess of the Rainbow but that has little to do with my life-long love and attraction to it:  its petals alternately fall in bride-like trains or shy forward in closeted high-school confidentials, and it sits atop a stem so thick and sturdy that no wind-rock can bring it down.  Where in life can you find such delicacy supported by such strength?  Such strength birthing such fragility?…  

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Practical Magic

SCARY STUFF, KIDS!”  If you are under 70 years old, read on at your own risk.  Yes, in another incarnation, I was a new ager with a trade name chosen numerologically to match Master numbers in my given name.  And I was on cable TV and on radio in a province other than the one I was born in.  I was good at what I did; I wrote articles on the subject (in an Australian journal)–hell, when wasn’t I writing on something or other?  Chiefly, what you need to know is that I was ethical, serious, devoted; the work I did evoked a kind of religiosity (yes, that is a word) in me, brought me back to God from whom I’d strayed (although I persist in believing She is a woman or, at the very least, a hermaphrodite–after all, am I not made in Her Image, too?).  I don’t say that agnosticism doesn’t often rear its tired head and confound and abuse me still, from time to time, but hey, as Mencken said, if you are morally certain about anything, you are probably wrong about everything.

It has been my burden or gift to plunge (and I do mean, dive deeply with eyes closed) into any subject that caught my interest:  literature, acting, dance, business, marketing, language teaching (pedagogy), furniture restoration, animal advocacy, indoor and outdoor gardening, and of course, the mantic arts (and that’s just a select few).  To be fair, the saying:  “Jack of all Trades, Master of None” doesn’t really apply in this case, because, for reasons not yet fathomable to me, I have been able, in all those cases, to achieve a certain level of expertise in each.  Not sure why.  Now, as I grow old and grayer by the week, much of what I knew I either can’t remember or, like Ausencia in Ground Manners, can’t finish decorously, all points argued in an eloquent polemic.  Hmm….  Even my expertise in the mantic arts seems a dim memory…although I can still look at a chart and, in seconds, say most of what is to come.  Now, I say it only to myself, in a whisper, because, like David’s Mum (who was an accomplished astrologer), I now know that there are some things it is best not to know beforehand, or for that matter, at all.  St. Augustine said:  “Trying to fathom the eternal mysteries is like trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon”, and while true, one can covet and wield the teaspoon for a bit until wisdom meets up with you and shakes its head in silence.  And that little kernel of insight is what Practical Magic truly is.

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