NOT WHAT YOU’D EXPECT IN NEW ENGLAND

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As the title of my poetry collection about gardening goes, There Is No Statuary in Our Garden Except for the Plastic Spacemen Occasionally Surfacing, working the soil here turns up many surprises. Bits of broken glass and metal, definitely, and endless rocks.

A few weeks ago I came across a wiggly something I first thought might have been a petrified snake or, a bit later, a skink. As I extracted its clay-encrusted fullness and pulled bits away, I slowly realized what I had was a three-inch-long tail to a plastic ‘gator or croc’, the body and snout adding about two more inches.

Forget trying to take a photo. Even cleaned up, it’s hard to make out.

I’m sure this was never one of our kids’ toys, which leaves a question of just how long since there were other children living on the property and then just what use they made of this stretch of the side of the house we call the Swamp.

Maybe they knew something after all.

WHAT OF THE ART OF THE DEAL?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

He claims to be a skilled negotiator, someone who can finesse a deal, but that’s not what we’re seeing. It’s all bluster and bullying. In a business deal, the other party cries “Enough!” and leaves the table. No deal, forget it, we’ll do business elsewhere. Or the workers strike or quit en masse or simply but effectively undermine the whole operation. (Anyone want to cite case studies? By the way, this guy’s refusing to open his books to potential suitors. Where are those tax returns, anyway?)

One possibility, as some power brokers seem to be sensing, he’s way out of his league. Are they sniffing weakness behind all his bravado? The way a wolf pack smells blood? Or the way an investor or market quickly turns in a flash to depose of a loser? Write off a bad investment or risk? Is there enough in his political portfolio for as much as a fire sale? Can he even keep his shirt, if his act falls apart?

Besides, in this game he should know, the house always wins, at least over time. Remember, he’s not playing in Trump Casino anymore. This is the Republican tent, where the owners are getting antsy and wonder about calling in security to escort a player from the premises.

Besides, the joker’s not the only wild card in this deck, and it’s dwindling.

Now, whose turn is it to deal?

QUIETLY, I CUT THE GRASS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

A couple of years ago, when our old lawnmower died, we decided to switch to a more eco-friendly battery-powered one.

And, no, a riding mower was altogether out of the question, unless it could also handle a snowplow for the other part of the year.

Let me confess I’ve never been comfortable with the traditional power mower. You have to buy gasoline, for starters, and check the oil. As for gapping spark plugs?

None of that with the new baby. It’s lighter, quieter (only a hum instead of the cranky roar), and much easier to maneuver. And while the blade’s shorter than the old one, it does allow me to get in spots the old one couldn’t manage. (Places like those around the fireplug in the strip along the curb.)

One good friend, who once had his own lawn-care service, in fact, took a few swipes with the new one and promptly dubbed it the “mini-Prius.” The moniker’s stuck.

The one drawback is that I can’t quite do our full yard on one charge, especially if the grass is deeper than usual or damp.

I can live with that, certainly. Or even buy a second battery, to keep me running while the first one’s recharging.

At least I’m not spilling gasoline anymore.

~*~

We’re serious about gardening, too, as my poetry collection There Is No Statuary in Our Garden Except for the Plastic Spacemen Occasionally Surfacing relates.

UP ON THE RAFTERS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

You never know what you’ll find when you start rummaging around in an old barn. That’s how they found the 1776 grandfather clock made in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, decades later covered in grime in Montgomery County, Ohio. The one that fascinated me as a child, climbing to the top of the farmhouse stairs. The one, as Cousin Wilma later demonstrated, with such sparkling, ethereal chimes.

So here we are, in my own barn. Not nearly as big or as old. The rafters themselves far less sturdy.

COULD IT BE QUICKSAND?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

For those who set out to shut down government in Washington, the next step should be fascinating. Are they prepared to shut down their own political party?

A line emerging in the sand (is that quicksand?) would separate those determined to stand on their stated values from those putting their faith in continuing the organization at all costs, regardless of its position. It’s looking more and more like they can’t have both.

This is shaping up as a definitive history-making moment. An earthquake, perchance? In Cleveland? Woodpecker will be watching closely, sensing it looks a lot like climatic instability, an issue many of them have long denied.

But then, sometimes reality hits. This time, a mega-storm seems to be brewing.

FAREWELL AND BEST WISHES TO GEORGE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

For the past four years I’ve been a member of the bass section of a remarkable community chorus in Greater Boston. We rehearse weekly through much of the year and find ourselves performing in public when occasions present. Most recently, it was as part of a summer solstice event hosted by the Harvard University museums of science and culture.

Known as the Revels Singers, we’re under the umbrella of the Boston Revels organization, which is best known for its annual Christmas productions at Harvard’s Sanders Theater.

George Emlen, the Revels music director for the past 32 years, founded the community chorus four years ago as a way to keep much of the Revels’ repertoire and spirit more active and visible throughout the year, augmenting the pub sings, concerts (spring and fall equinox and summer solstice are duly observed), educational outreach programs, harbor cruises, and the like.

And now he’s retired. How do you replace a skilled and enthusiastic conductor, one who reaches out to know his performers and their families as well? How do you replace an insightful composer and arranger or a collaborator on creating a new show every year for Christmas? (The last one was set in Wales. The next has a Cajun-Acadian base.)

It’s been an emotional year for us. At the final show of the Wales production, George was given a curtain-call, something the directors never do, preferring the applause be for the cast of singers, actors, and dancers ranging from very young to, well, admittedly old. The well-earned roar that greeted George matched what James Levine might hear at the Metropolitan Opera at the conclusion of a Ring Cycle. It was amazing. He’s touched a lot of people over the years.

For me, every rehearsal has brought new perspectives on music and music-making, from his improvised warm-ups (they’re never the same, and I wouldn’t want to sing without them beforehand) to the discoveries and interplay we share in pieces that range from the 12th century to the present, spanning more than two dozen languages and both classical and folk disciplines. How does a conductor remain patient while incrementally yet continually raising the level, anyway? We were good to begin with, but now? It’s a much higher standard than we would have had any right to imagine.

One eye-opener for us was the opportunity to audition the four finalists from the applicants to succeed him. Each was assigned three pieces to introduce to us in an hour-long rehearsal – one from the Renaissance or earlier, one from the American shape-note tradition, and one from world folk. As we found, each conductor was quite different, having something unique to bring to us. We could also sense how the fit might or might not work, which in itself was a revelation.

What I can say is that we’re excited to know that what George has established will continue and grow. We’ve had an opportunity to rehearse a full session with our new music director, Megan Henderson, and it feels like a match made in heaven. But then, as she says, we all share one thing in common: we all love George. She understands what she’s inheriting.

He plans to focus on composing, but I can’t imagine he won’t be in demand for guest conducting or teaching or travel in the arts. We all wish him and Jan all the best.

~*~

To view a video tribute to George by Michael Kolowich, including an interview and footage of productions George conducted, go to Revels.org.

AS FOR THAT SECOND AMENDMENT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

For those who claim to be defenders of the Second Amendment, let’s insist they embrace the entire provision, the part that mentions a well-regulated militia.

There’s nothing well-regulated in what we’re seeing in the cancer of mass murders resulting from assault rifles. A particular model, at that.

Note, please, that regulated means regulations, first, and their efficient enforcement, second. The Congress that adopted this amendment knew what it was doing, unlike more recent politicians beholden to the gun lobby. As the amendment insists, it’s the militia that shall not be infringed. The well-regulated militia.

By the way, having lived in rural areas, I’ve come to appreciate the place of hunting and knowledgeable hunters in the wild. Some are deeply devoted naturalists, aware and alert in the nuances of their surroundings. Natives have much to teach about the rhythms of their game. I’ve seen how a local hunting and fishing club regulated much of a rural county, keeping irresponsible “sportsmen” away. In Washington state, the return and proliferation of elk can be credited to concerned hunters in conservationist organizations. There’s a role for that culture – one, we should note, that accepts legal limits on its activity.

~*~

These days, I’m thinking more and more about the militia part of the Second Amendment. What if we required all gun owners to be a member of one? Perhaps it would be like the Army Reserve, where each member would have to take so much training each year and put in community service time. Training? First-aid and CPR are always good for the public. We’re far more likely to need those than a gun, anyway. I see this as a kind of auxiliary for public service. Why not?

No exceptions for people who claim to be too busy, either. Someone like Donald Trump would have to put in hands-on time. Public service, indeed.