Cup of Joy, Cup of Sorrow

Cup by Tree on the Hill Pottery

July 7
Knit in the setting sun today.  The temperature was much more tolerable.  Caught the bus home at 9:56 pm.  I don’t feel like explaining my project to strangers anymore.  All I can say is that I need to do it, the rest of my explanations feel made up.  Is this a cop out on my part?

G. and Reggie visited with me for a while.  G. said that her sick friend had drunk a cup of poison in an assisted suicide and died, surrounded by her mercy killer volunteers, an Episcopalian priest and her friends.  It made me sad.  In fact, I have been thinking a lot lately about life as a cup.  My little brother said that America wants a steady diet of happy, but this leads to a superficial life that does not satisfy.  Let this cup pass from me, but not what I will but what you will.  Sometimes, I am asked to drink suffering, and sometimes joy. I want to drink life down to the dregs.  And I want a soul big enough to hold God.

July 6
Knit in the sun so hot it had me begging at a neighbor’s door for a glass of water.  Walked home through Boulevard Park where I met up with my brother Miles and his boy Jethro in the jogger.  We walked home together orbited by clouds of mosquitos.  I slapped one with my hand–it burst, leaving a circle of blood on my palm like a stigmata.

July 5
No knit today because we left early for a wedding in Yakima…

July 4
R. told me he’s glad to not be in Michigan on July 4 where people fire guns into the air.  “True story, I kid you not,” he said.  “A friend of mine was in the bathroom when a bullet came down through the roof and hit his toe.”  I hadn’t considered what happens to a bullet after it goes up into the sky.  Hot and sunny at the start of the knit, but cool and cloudy by the end.  A cleaning lady got out of her car with a broom in hand, and stared at me.  Two young athletes did bicycle crunches on their backs by the bench.  C. and D. came by with a candy crunch pie–I was hoping it was for me, but C. made it for Betsy who lost part of her jaw in a battle with cancer.  Her best friend of 50 years is visiting her again.  (I saw them out walking last year.)

July 3
Betty Ninja’s ears slanted backwards when I called her name.  She’s C.’s black dog.  My friend ML sat with me and visited for the first part of the knit.

I finally got to ask Sunglasses her real name.  And she also told me that she teaches conflict resolution classes.  She had 7 major dental procedures in one year, so she’s taking it easy and walking her dog a lot.

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