Sunday, September 02, 2007

Labors of the day

When was it - two years ago that Katrina visited us the weekend of Labor day? I'm not very good with dates and other details so it may have been the tidal wave and it may have been three years ago. But Labor Day and inclement weather are now paired for me, and here in North Florida, it's verging on dismal. A little bloom of clear sun around noon and the remainder has been the monochrome of haze and splinters of rain.

Yesterday, in an attempt to rid a lovely little bird tree of cottonycushion scale, I managed to release spurts of this noxious poison out of the Ortho dispenser. The flagstones were inundated and today the weather has sponged up the odor and it hangs over my patio. I imagine all the ants will relocate as it's specifically an ant poison. I'm very concerned about its effect on the native wildlife - birds, anoles and even cats.

Speaking of cats, this morning there's a visitor. He's a young male, loquacious and lopey with long back feet and no-nonsense eyes. But he's lost. Every ten minutes, he'll let out his series of miaows, as if expecting a response from a known voice. It's such a sad and yearning sound that I call back, speaking to him in friendly tones, hoping to reassure him that this backyard is a friendly place. He can stick around if he likes or continue his quest. I've fed him this morning and evening, and he's as settled as he can be on a mass of leaves.

My cat seems not to take much notice of him. Besides, she's got a home and a collar and a bell, takes her meals at an appointed place indoors and sleeps on a flea-free surface next to her caretaker. But it wasn't too long ago that she was also wailing in loneliness and abandonment next door. Maybe she recognizes the call.

Herbert Dreyfus & I spent yesterday morning together. I had downloaded his series of lectures on existentialism and listened to the first lecture on iTunes. Now I'm trying to find an online copy of Kierkegaard's Preamble - anyone out there know if it can be found somewhere?

Back in the days, I was fixated on the existentialists. Read Dostoevsky & Nietzsche and Camus - though Dreyfus says Camus wasn't an existentialist in his sense - he was a pagan. The others drew their infrastructure from the judeoxian beliefs and Camus disregarded them in his writings.

Earlier, I started in on a career development process map, fairly certain that this MFA won't automatically create changes in my position at work. More and more, I'm feeling drawn back to publishing, something I did ten years ago and then had to release. I went thru a period of mourning after. It was such a personally fulfilling experience - 13 months of it - and I realized then that it was my "life's work" or something akin to that in importance.

The light is fading and the inner rooms of the house are black. I've given the visitor a bowl of water.

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