So now what?

Temperature: on the rise. #COP26 #WhatGretaSaid #AndSimonKofe

Drinking: Would some Beaujolais nouveau help? What do you mean it’s only Wednesday?

Eating: gingerbread. I made the first batch over the weekend. Lo and behold, Ebenezer and the Grinches had no problem helping themselves to a few and then some.

Watching: catastrophe movies and other artistic endeavors of the same genre come to life. This is an emergency, sweetie darlings, and we are all on call.

Listening: Don’t tell a soul but I’ve been listening to some Christmas-y tunes. Not like a full-blown playlist, just a favorite song here and there to lift spirits and help with the baking and other pre-Xmas chores. Oh, don’t shake your head, I warned you I’m going Stealth Elf. And I have. Sure, my cover is blown at home, but who’s gonna stop me? I would like to see them try. *pulls out a candy cane shaped and colored lightsaber*

Reading: Grand Hotel Europa by Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer. Read it if you’re European. Read it even if you aren’t. Available in several languages.

Writing: a letter to Santa asking him to bring me a candy cane shaped and colored lightsaber, if there’s a sustainable way to manufacture one, because that would be awesome.

Thinking: After the diluted outcome of COP26, there are reasons to be hopeful and cheerful, and there are reasons to be fearful and doubtful. I wish we had more of the former and less of the latter.

Feeling: like I let my children down, like we all let every single child on the planet down, when my youngest said that he hopes he lives to be a hundred because he wants to see how this ends. Sweet baby Jesus, sweetie darlings! And he didn’t sound as despondent as I feel, he sounded almost curious, as if he knows full well what’s coming in the not-so-distant future, but since he doesn’t know how and when he’ll truly start feeling the effects in earnest there’s no sense in panicking just yet. Oh but they see and hear everything, dearest denizens. And this is how we’ll be remembered. What do you think some future or alien species will make of our dogged self-destruction?

“Were they stupid? Was it an accident?”
“Doesn’t look like one. Looks like a 500-year-old long con they called capitalism got out of hand.”
“Hmm. It had its pros, it seems.”
“But they couldn’t contain the cons, apparently. Or wouldn’t.”
“So, we’re going with stupid with marks of greed and arrogance?”
“Well, no fully developed species does this. The other lifeforms seem to be thriving, though.”
“I’ll make a note of that. Okay, next sector then. Lunch first? I know a superb place near Tau Ceti. Far off, I know, but worth it.”
“Let’s go. Shame though. It looks kind of beautiful.”

Freedom! Forever!

The 5th of November, sweetie darlings. You know what to do.

Shut up and dance with me 🍉

This Halloween I’ll be wearing curls, a flared skirt and a watermelon. A baby melon, fit for a smallish party. Who am I going as? Rhymes with Maybe Mouseman from Flirty Glancing.

Need a pick-me-up-move-your-butt break? Clear some space or sway in place, doesn’t matter, just let the energy and 80s esthetics put a smile on your face. Have a great weekend, dearest denizens! 😘 

(Courage, Glasgow! #COP26)

Santa Claus ain’t coming to town (or so you think)

With the days growing shorter and with no Thanksgiving to celebrate (just an imported, materialistic Halloween clashing with a somber Scandinavian All Saints, not that fun and games is a bad thing but could we make it more sustainable, yes we could and should) it’s all downhill from September. Christmas is the light at the end of the tunnel. But why sit and wait when you could start celebrating say...two months prior? Gently smoothing your way in, slowly introducing elements, carefully selecting gifts, if you intend to give any. Surely a saner and healthier method than the mad last-minute dash and face-stuffing stuffed into a few days that causes stress, headaches and gastrointestinal problems. No one needs that, surely.

That’s what I proposed we do at Casa Dita. Start early! Imagine my surprise when my proposal lost the vote. Inconceivable! I was prepared to do all the work. I repeat: ALL the work, because it wouldn’t feel like work, I would enjoy every minute of it. [Alas, I am beaten but not discouraged. And if you’re in the market for an enthused and efficient elf to help you out, you know where to find me. Will bring my own PPE. Will work for rum raisin fudge and Irish Coffee.]

But no. Apparently, I’m married to Ebenezer Scrooge and my children take after the Grinch. What disappointments the men in my life are, dearest denizens! To say no to a no-brainer! Let them soak in the dark and see how that feels like after yet another year of needing all the pick-me-ups imaginable to keep you going. Or…is it just me who needs them? Because I’ll admit that once upon a time I felt as they do, super annoyed when Christmas started invading the stores in October. Now I grudgingly admit I don’t mind so much. Strikethrough grudgingly, I’m owning it. Yes, I’m one of those outlandish people who get a twinkle in their eye when they catch that first glimpse of Christmas. Just the thought brightens the darkness of November and December. After Christmas, the days will finally, gradually grow longer. For me, foremost, Christmas is a promise of light to come and proof that darkness will never get the last word.

Oh…ohh…I see…all this sentimentality…maybe I’m just…getting old? I can’t wait, sweetie darlings! I know some absolutely awesome older women. They have seen it all and done it all, and when they look at you and listen to you, you know, you just know they know something you don’t with how gently powerful they are, and you can’t help but envy them their peace and poise, hoping you’ll be half as wise and worldly if you ever reach their age. And I know aging means pains and aches, physical and emotional, but I know of no other way to live a long life! If you do, gmail me (ms.ditaparker), let’s talk. Okay, happy Friday, have an excellent weekend! Or a tolerable one.

P.S. I’m doing it, the Grinches and that Scrooge notwithstading. I’m slipping in a decoration here…a textile there…soon everywhere. One. At. A. Time. By the time they realize what’s happening…presto, it’s Christmas!

P.P.S. Book recommendation! Your literary Advent calendar in 24 chapters.

How to save a life

Temperature: a cloudy, windy 10/50 degrees

Drinking: It’s too early in the season for glögg, isn’t it? Then again, do we abide by stuffy conventions and restrictions, hmm, sweetie darlings? No, we don’t.

Eating: Chloe brought me a snack (a mouse) from her foray into the garden, and is eager to share. We agreed she should have it since she did all the work. Good girl!

Watching: Have you seen No Time to Die? Did you enjoy it? Any…misty eyes? I was moved, sweetie darlings. By James Bond. I really was! For reasons I can’t talk about lest I ruin it for you, and I’d actively avoided any news and possible spoilers, managed to catch it early on, and was caught by surprise, which is always a lovely thing and all too rare these days, what with trolls trying to spoil the magic. And I always thought, or rather did at the beginning, that Craig’s Bond was too hard and cold, too one-dimensional. Which of course left plenty of room for growth and he did grow, to some extent. And he grew on me. But…where do we go from here?

Listening: to the Canada geese leaving. Go! Flee!! Before you freeze!!! Not that it’s been all that cold, but they know what they’re doing. One hopes.

Reading: The Disaster Tourist by Yun Ko-eun, and Paradis City by Jens Lapidus.

Thinking: Neurons that fire together wire together. (Hebb's Law) Meaning, we reinforce what we repeat, whether it’s a habit, a routine, a way of thinking. Good or bad, practice makes perfect. What would you like to do differently, dearest denizens?

Feeling: like I’m losing my patience with anti-vaxxers (and I am a patient soul, believe me), those who have no medical reason to refuse the Covid vaccine. I’m sorry but there you have it; without it there’s no hope of containing this. I had a lengthy but awkward discussion with someone who revealed they had not and would not be getting the vaccine. They ended the discussion by telling me that it is an individual choice and they are harming no one but themselves if they get sick. Yes, you’ve made up your mind based on what you believe is best for you. No, the harm has a social dimension and repercussions. You are endangering your family, friends and anyone you come in contact with. You have to treat every encounter as a possible danger to you. And yes, many experience but a mild infection, but some get truly sick, some suffer from long Covid, some suffer permanent damage to nerves and internal organs, some end up in intensive care, and some die. You will not know which ticket you drew until faced with it. Fit as a fiddle? Good for you but won’t make a difference in this lottery. Unless you protect it your body is a potential variant incubator. You won’t want to be remembered as the source of yet another new strain. Hospitals are under strain, the staff exhausted and exasperated. Non-emergency treatments and surgeries on hold means conditions may become life-threatening. Cancers and other tumors go undiagnosed. You are not simply exercising your free will, you are being selfish and casually cruel toward your fellow humans. Have qualms or questions? Don’t consult the Google machine, consult a doctor. Don’t assume that because you are “never ill” (Really? Think back a bit. No, seriously.), this won’t affect you. A skydiver may jump a thousand times without incident. And have jump number 1,001 be their last. It’s all good and well to be an optimist. It’s even better to be prepared, especially when you're being offered every chance to save a life including yours.