Losing one’s tribe

13th June, 2021

It’s always so nice to see colourful flowers in the field.

But Summer is so not my time of year!

For me, it’s a time when there is too much happening.

That mostly means the out-of-control garden .

But summer has always been a challenge.

As a child, my asthma attacks were much worse in summer when the air was filled with pollen and dust.

When I worked at JFK, summer was when everyone was on the move and flights were oversold every night. It was bedlam.

In Washington State, believe it or not, summers were hot and dry for weeks on end. I spent my life dragging hoses around, getting all hot and bothered.

Now, back in New York, summer is less disagreeable but still I shall be glad when it’s passed.

This vine is my nemesis. It grows and grows everywhere and chokes whatever it takes hold of. Perhaps I should let it do it’s “thing”, but I so hate to see so many plants wither and die.

The vine seems merciless. When I remove it from a bush or tree, it’s like a battle of wits. It clutches and it twists. I swear I can feel the pain of the “host” plant!

“Dig the roots up” they advise. Well yes, that’s what needs doing, except the roots are miles long.

Why do I fret so about it?

Perhaps it’s that it reminds me of life out of control which has so often been the case for me.

My nerves are a little unraveled.

Sweet William.” A nice surprise yesterday. No idea from whence he came.

.

.

Grant came limping home on Saturday, having twisted a knee working in the neighbour’s yard. So he is “hors de combat” for the time being…

As a result I got to go and do the weekly shopping by myself for the first time in well over a year.

Ranunculus…

.

Not a big deal. No heavy bags of feed or seed were needed and I could manage those too, if necessary.

What bothered me was being around people! All the inane chattering. Noticing the cover stories on magazines and tabloids at the check-out.

In the car, I searched in vain for music, but finding myself on a Public Radio Network, I thought I would listen in to see what was being talked about.

It’s as if I arrived from another planet.

The words I recognized as a form of English, but what on earth were they saying?

It wasn’t that complicated. It was a woman (unknown) being interviewed about a movie she made and the two actresses (never heard of) she employed. Supposedly screamingly funny. To me it sounded DIRE.

It came to mind that there are two types of interaction these days: People abusing one another, physically and/or verbally, and people having inane conversations.

In both cases, I find them incoherent.

.

Clover

It’s a generalization, of course. There are still a handful of people communicating things that matter.

But when I see comments written on “social media”, I wonder if, when they speak they say the same words. Because often there is no coherent sentence anywhere. I haven’t a clue what they are saying, can’t even figure out if they are for or against whatever it is they are babbling about. I wonder if they even know.

Social media, I hasten to add, is not a place where I linger long.

.

.

Starwort

When I retired, I knew I would become a “non person” and in the end, I wasn’t all that unhappy about it.

But I never expected to feel so disconnected.

Grant talks about searching for his “tribe” and I know what he means as I surely feel I have lost mine.

7 thoughts on “Losing one’s tribe

  1. Completely agree with you. Blogs which I choose to read now, are about the only “conversations” which can be tolerated. People seem so uncomfortable with silence and I don’t understand that. (And I agree with you about summer–it’s just not “my” favorite time.)

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Ah Carolyn … and I love summer! I mean, I must, I’m South African after all and the sun is out most of the time (even during winter) πŸ˜‰.
    It almost sound unreal that you’ve just been to the shop for the first time in a year (I’m in a way jealous) … sometimes think it’s good to be disconnected a little bit (or a lot!)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh the tartan kilt wearing midges of Scotland 🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟 may they keep their sporrans full of itching powder closed to you and never visit your tent. ⛺️

      Liked by 2 people

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