Reading Animal

I am loving the September reading theme of Animals. I started out with Langston Hughes’s The Panther and the Lash, which was excellent. Amazingly, I have had this book for 10 years and had always read the title as The Panther and the Leash. On the cover is a drawing of Langston Hughes in a stylish three-piece suit, and whenever I noted the book, I envisioned Langston Hughes, nattily dressed, walking along with a panther on a leash.

Well, no. Not the image he meant to convey. The Panther and the Lash conjures up a much different vision, evoking history, emotions, and oppression. Not a walk through the park, with or without a panther. A few of my favorite (short) poems:

Slum Dreams

Little dreams
Of springtime
Bud in sunny air
With no roots
To nourish them,
Since no stems
Are there—
Detached,
Naïve,
So young,
On air alone
They’re hung.

Justice

That Justice is a blind goddess
Is a thing to which we black are wise:
Her bandage hides two festering sores
That once perhaps were eyes.

Jim Crow Car

Get out the lunch-box of your dreams
And bite into the sandwich of your heart,
And ride the Jim Crow car until it screams
And, like an atom bomb, bursts apart.

Bible Belt

It would be too bad if Jesus
Were to come back black.
There are so many churches
Where he could not pray
In the U.S.A.,
Where entrance to Negroes,
No matter how sanctified,
Is denied,
Where race, not religion,
Is glorified.
But say it—
You may be
Crucified.

The Panther and the Lash brought me through a range of emotions and feelings: uncomfortable, appalled, despair, compassion, horror, sympathy, hope. Even if you don’t read poetry, I recommend this book and most especially if you are interested in racial issues.

Sticking with poetry, I followed up Langston Hughes with Horse Dance Underwater, by Helena Mesa. It didn’t speak to me. Langston Hughes is a hard act to follow. I’m now reading The Tiger Iris, by Joan Swift. I’m only just beginning, so no opinion yet. The next likely poetry book following Swift: The Girl With Bees in Her Hair, by Eleanor Rand Wilner.

My first fiction book was Mr. Fox, by Helen Oyeymi. I totally didn’t get this novel. I’m pretty sure it went right over my head. At the end of the book I was confused, with a primary reaction of “What??” So I went to check out the Amazon reviews, sure they would be bifurcated, heavily weighted to 5 star (those who got it) and 1 star (those who didn’t) reviews.

The internet is a humbling thing. A near majority (45%) loved this book (5 stars) and an additional 20% really liked it (4 stars). A mere 7% gave it one star. Even the people that were confused enjoyed the book. So do not take my word for it on this one. Note: Mr. Fox might make more sense if you know the legend of Bluebeard and/or have a fondness for fables.

After giving my brain such a workout, I was ready for some mind candy and started Curiosity Thrilled the Cat, by Sofie Kelly. The lightest of fluff—a mystery with magical cats. I’m about halfway through, and it’s silly light fun. This is the first in a series, but I haven’t decided if it’s one I want to continue. Maybe a bit too light. Next up in fiction is hard to say, though just now Lamb in Love, by Carrie Brown, is leading the pack.

I’ve finished one nonfiction book, Two Dogs and a Parrot, by Joan Chittister. I didn’t like this as much as I’ve loved some of her other books, though I did rather like the section on the parrot.

I’ve currently got two other nonfiction books going—My Cat Saved My Life, a memoir by Phillip Schreibman; and Animal, Mineral, Radical: Essays on Wildlife, Family, and Food, by B.K. Loren. I’m about one-third through each. I’m loving My Cat Saved My Life—it’s one of those magical books that transport you. When I pick this book up, I feel like I am right there with this man and his cat. I’m in the kitchen having the argument, I’m napping in the meadow with the cat, I’m sunning on the rock. A book to keep or a book to gift? That is the question.

Loren’s book is longer and a bit more uneven (as books of essays are wont to be), but I’ve only started Mineral and am particularly looking forward to Radical. I don’t know what will come after. Early days yet, as I’m still immersed in these two. No doubt something will leap off the shelf before too long.

Happy Reading!

Advertisements

Waiting for the Mail

I’m waiting for the mail. Not hovering waiting. Writing and acutely aware that the mail could arrive any minute (some people get their mail at a regular time; ours is usually sometime in the afternoon, but occasionally early morning). I’m not waiting for any particular reason; it’s not that I’m expecting a package or an important document. I am looking forward to the new stamp catalog (I’m running low on postcard stamps and also want the dragons, John Lennon, and Art of Magic stamps—the post office is putting out some really fun stamps these days). But that’s not why I’m waiting for the mail.

You never know what the mail will bring: a magazine, a catalog you love to peruse (hello Syracuse Cultural Workers, Sur la Table), a newsletter with some good news. And then there are the calendars, address labels, notepads, and occasionally even gift wrap from nonprofits hoping to lure you in (note: sometimes it works). The peak of mail happiness is the personal mail: a postcard, greeting card, letter, and occasionally even a package. Happy dance!

I’ve enjoyed getting the mail for as long as I remember. In our small town, that meant going to the post office. I loved walking with my dad to get the mail. I was honored and delighted to be entrusted with the responsibility (and the key!) of getting the mail on my own when I was in 3rd grade. The mail was never meant for me, but getting the mail was fun and special. One of my first significant responsibilities.

In college I totally lucked out and got a summer job working at the campus post office. I’ve had a lot of good jobs in my life, but that was one of my favorites: I learned so much about the ins and outs and rules of the postal system, developed an appreciation for postage stamps, and got to interact with faculty on a much more level playing field (I was the expert in this arena, a nice turning of the tables) and thus more personally, and they weren’t nearly as scary as I had thought. I loved every aspect of the job, from sorting the mail (before we opened) to selling and ordering stamps, and figuring out postage for various package types (useful knowledge to this very day). Happy summers.

And now the mail is delivered right to our house. In summer, when the door to the front porch is open, I can hear the solid thunk as the pile hits the floor on a good mail day. Sometimes I finish the sentence I’m reading before I go retrieve it.

The mail has arrived! Today’s haul:

  • A card from a friend (who I met working at the college post office job mentioned above)
  • A postcard from a different friend confirming a lunch date in October
  • The Conservation Minnesota newsletter
  • Electric bill
  • A mailing from my health care provider about an upcoming board election

Not a bad day, and not one piece of junk mail!

Backyard Report: Hops 1, Rabbits 8

I finished harvesting the hops today. A small crop this year, possibly due to rabbits (all of a sudden several vines died, and I wondered if a rabbit had chewed through the bottoms) or possibly to neglect.

Neglect? Yes. Unintended, but In May, I got a case of eczema on my hands. It didn’t get better and then it got infected and I missed the entire planting season. An unplanned experiment: I basically did nothing in the backyard this summer. No weeding, pruning, mowing, deadheading, or harvesting (excepting one catnip harvest).

I have felt guilty all summer. My backyard looks like weeds and shrubs run amok (which it is). But here is what I experienced:

More monarchs than I’ve seen in any year before. Possibly because I had a lot more milkweed. I’ve been trying to get more milkweed in my yard for several years, and this year I had a bumper crop (some even in the front yard!). I love the milkweed because of monarchs, but also because it reminds me of being a kid, finding milkweed pods in late summer and pulling them apart and blowing out the seeds. I still enjoy doing it—every bit as fun as blowing the fluff off dandelions—and your neighbors don’t mind so much with milkweed.

My lack of care didn’t hurt the cactus at all. They had a mighty bloom, and continue to spread. I also continue to spread them, as they encroach on the sidewalk (they are prolific!): Cut off the pad at the joint, take it to a different part of the gravel side-garden bordering the south side of the house, scrape away the stones, set down the pad, pour a few teaspoons of water over it (or not), and forget it forevermore (except to check on it and look at it frequently, which helps ignored plants grow).

The rabbits have been quite fun to watch this summer, and in July there were several babies. After a week away in early August, on our return, I noted only one of the young rabbits left nosing around the yard, and so it has remained. Until tonight, when something startled the backyard denizens: First, the young rabbit shoots out from under the dogwoods, heading east. Seconds later a smaller rabbit follows its path. Two little rabbits! And I consider myself such a good observer of nature….

And speaking of the dogwoods, they have become hugely overgrown and are taking up nearly a quarter of the backyard. But I think by no coincidence, I also added five new birds to my yard list: ovenbird (be still my heart!), Swainson’s thrush, gray-cheeked thrush, Connecticut warbler, and eastern wood pewee. All sighted in, under, or around the overgrown unsightly dogwoods.

Saving the best for last: A few weeks ago I was writing at the table in the kitchen, and I glanced out the window (this was early evening), and just winding around the corner of the flower bed, a—what are you?? My mind scrambled, searching. Big (not squirrel or rabbit) with a snout like a pig! What?? And it was white (not all white, but whiteish).

This is an animal I have never seen before, and I am seeing it here, right in my back yard in Minneapolis. I could only think it might be an opossum, even though in my mind they were brown and much much smaller.

It moseyed around the flower bed. after which I moseyed to google, to find out I had indeed had an opossum wend its way through my untended yard. This, to me, is the royal flush of urban wildlife.

Maybe won’t clean up my backyard so much come spring after all.