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NauenThen

In the neighborhood

The Marble Cemetery from the outside, very early one recent morning. Abandoned? Forgotten? A purposeful display? Yet another New York mystery. 

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Meet Lefty

Meet Lefty, the newest member of the Stanton-Nauen household. He was found in front of a church in Brooklyn a month or two ago & taken in by the wonderful organization Loving Touch. They rescue lost & abandoned cats & dogs with love & kindness. Since he got here, Lefty's been purring, exploring, talking... biting. He slept with us the first night. I still miss Buster, intensely, but we are so full of love & wanted to share our home with a cat again. It's like how they say your sweat glands are established in the first few months of life—our love glands have been permanently opened. He's not a replacement for Buster—not in the least!—but he is a chance to love more, love again. Which we will, as we get to know each other. 

 

He's tiny, young, & a yakker. Very different from Buster. I'm trying not to compare. 

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Monday Quote

One of the great mistakes is to judge policies and programs by thir intentions rather than their results.

~ Milton Friedman

 

Oh it's so hard to decide. My instinct and preference is towards the center: I think the president should be the president for one & all, whether or not they voted for that person. And definitely the grander the plans, the more I distrust the promulgator. Those who support the so-called visionaries of course disagree, and for sure it's hard to present an inspiring vision of the ordinary, the pragmatic, when you could roll with idealism. I distrust revolutions—it gets worse for many & only better for the same few who always come out on top. Friedman is saying the road to hell... unintended consequences... but hindsight is 20/20, isn't it? 

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In the neighborhood

That creamy golden light of dawn, gone in seconds. I love being out & about when almost no one else is. 

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In the neighborhood

This was on a wall on Avenue B and 3rd Street. Did it go up before the demeaning-to-them vote? Did whoever do this poster make ones for the 51 other spineless Republican senators? The 12-year-old I was with asked who he is. 

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Buster cute as pie

What makes pie cute? 

 

The day Buster died Johnny said, We have to get another cat! There's something about loving one that makes you want to love another. The sorrow is so hard & painful but the day-to-day pleasures & delights are worth it. All my sorrows have been for love & I accept that, with gratitude. We are going to meet Griffin this weekend, if all goes well, but I still love & look for Buster around the house. It's hard to believe that every day he's not here. My mother always spoke well of my father's first wife, who died before my parents met—she didn't put him off marriage, she concluded. Buster has opened my heart to all the possibilities of loving cats.

 

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I have this power

I was reading The Translator last month when its author, Ward Just, died. 

 

I was reading After Babel this month when its author, George Steiner, died. 

 

Anyone want to pay me not to read their book?

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Health at last

I'm bored by being sick so feel free to skip this update, but I have to say, I was so happy to wake up this morning & feel like myself at last. A whole month of dragging, coughing, coughing, dragging. I took my first karate class in a month. Not sure I was gonna make it & glad I couldn't see the clock, & then suddenly, I started to sweat & instantly felt better. Thanks, A.J.—you were so right when you said it was better to sweat it out than lie about. 

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Monday Quote

Poetry is like fish: if it's fresh, it's good; if it's stale, it's bad; and if you're not certain, try it on the cat.

~ Osbert Sitwell

 

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Spiritual Sounds

Most Holy Redeemer Church, 173 East 3rd St.

On Sunday I went to this magnificent church right around the corner from me for a concert by a bunch of neighborhood churches, mosques, synagogues et al. The acoustics were daunting, so a couple of the choirs I know are good didn't shine. Who did: a Tibetan monk who did chanting deep in his throat; he sounded like a didgeridoo & you could tell he wasn't straining. Quite remarkable. My favorite was a ragtag group from the Catholic Worker busting with hilarity & sincerity, with trombone, bagpipe, harmonica & guitar. It really made me think a vow of poverty was the best thing for your soul & spirit. 

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