We're hostile--we women of today?

"Why are you women so hostile?"  I was annoyed at Julia's insensitive question. But for whatever reason Julia feels it her right to say whatever she feels like saying.  With little regard to what one would consider thoughtful consideration before opening her mouth. But anyone who knows Julia would expect little else.

I was at a loss whether to ignore or argue with her. How does one argue with such as she? Then and there or here and now.

My dear husband and I so frequently let the discussion of such matters degenerate to an argument in which I did become hostile. But consider---

Women from the beginning of recorded time (check when and where you can--but check) have been compelled to live as adjuncts to the men in their lives. With the exemption of the Amazons, whose existence is questionable, equality of the sexes is tenuous.

Across distance and time there have been those matriarchal tribes, but matriarchal lineage is far removed from matriarchal control. I neither want  nor need to give footnoted proofs.

Julia, and to a lesser degree Cartimandua and Tanaquil, question my assertions. Not rightly so. Think of them in their time and setting. Think of me and women like me in my time. And try to find a difference.  Did Margaret Truman face the problems of Nancy Garth? And who is Nancy Garth?  Point taken. Do the Bush twins have the uphill climb of the twin daughters of the off and on again employed factory worker? How do they differ from the weaver in the shop not so far from the royal house of Augustus? Or the widowed woman reduced to prostitution in Tanaquil's time?

They -- Julia, Tanaquil and Cartimandua-- see the world not just from their times, but from their positions. There is the oft offered, poorly thought out argument that the very biological demands of  women dictate their position in the scheme of things. They are the ones who give birth to the young, suckle the young. Such activity demands subservience.  Such thinking reduces me to hostile thoughts.

I am compelled to question, to doubt the easily spouted, argument that  Poor Nancy Garth, (mentioned above) whom you do not remember, struggling to keep a roof and food for her two children, the youngest two months old, is filling her proper place in the larger scheme of things.

Is it possible for Julia or Carti or Tanaquil to really understand the plot of Nancy? Do I really understand it? Or do I like so many across time and distance ignore it or at best pay it lip service?

My Daughter and Me at Mermorial for my Husband and her Father

The picture below was taken by a dear friend, a sensitive person, a good photographer. She sent me a whole album of pictures she took, chronicling the the 'Celebration of My Husband's Life'. There are inadequate words to thank her for her pictures and my daughter for her support the ten days before the service. She lives in Alaska, almost as far away as Julia or Tanaquil. She is, however, more available on an intimate basis. Enjoy her beauty and believe me when I tell you her spirit exceeds her physical beauty.

Celebration of Paul's Life

You're ignoring me," Julia's voice assaulted my consciousness. "You know you are."

"I do and I am. Go away. I need my space," I said aloud and was grateful no one could hear me. Else I might appear befuddled. And I was alone. So alone on this day. For the crowd of two days ago was gone.

Persistence was needed for Julia is not easily put off. Finally she relented.

My house is small. How strange that sounds. My house. Just two and a half months ago it was our house. Paul's and mine. Now it's mine because Paul died after a two year battle with leukemia.

Two days ago we --my three children and I-- held a 'Celebration of Paul's Life'.

              Forty or so people we invited.
              Twenty five or so we expected would come.
              Forty five or more showed up.
              A tribute to Paul or me or both?
To whom matters little. It was not a lengthy program-- two pieces of music and five short passages selected from the booklet Paul lovingly and laboriously worked on the last years of his life. Sixteen pages entitled
                                       
                                         Uncommon Senses
                                              Aphorisms  
                                                Epigrams
                                                 Quotes
                                                     and
                                                  Poems

The small booklet includes bits and pieces of philosophy, poetry and witticisms, some original, others not.

We read his obituary:
           
             Nature whence he came has reclaimed his body and spirit
              A body nourished by vigorous exercise and healthy food
                     A spirit fed by passion, curiosity and principles
                       A need to live, to laugh, to love and play
                  A love of nature compelling him to salute the sun
                Revere the trees, bow to butterflies and laud the birds
        An addiction to the arts leaving his domed, mural walled folly
                                 His tiled towering obelisk
        His indomitable spirit and active body have returned to their
                                            proper place

We then spread his ashes around his folly and obelisk, the art works in the backyard. A sharing of cheese, crackers, grapes and wine followed.  I am sure Paul would have approved.  I suspect Julia would  approve. It was just that I did not feel like sharing the intimate moment with her.

Endive in June

    Julia tires so easily of anyone or anything that is not somehow connected with her. That is most likely the reason she came to the bad end she did. But that is not important today. She will have to wait.  For Today I have my own problems. Today I have to deal with curly endive Have you ever noticed how in times of crisis the smallest event can set off a torrent of emotions. That happened to me today. It started out innocently enough. I went grocery shopping. I wandered through the produce section of the supermarket. My whole being was shaken by curly endive.   

                                                       CURLY ENDIVE

                                 Curly endive available in June from any grocer

                                                        One might think

                                                   One would be wrong

                         How many years now have I looked but not found curly endive in June

                               Two years I grew my own which barely was ready by June

                          Other years I went from grocer to grocer in towns near and far

                                                    I always managed

                                                    I had to manage

                             My husband wanted curly endive for his June birthday dinner

                                                     It’s June again

                        This week without looking I found curly endive in three grocers

                                         I easily found curly endive in June

                                                  He died in April