Day in and day out is marked by the simple progression of time. Sam has attracted the loyalty of the winged ones and the critters who make the steep slopes below their apartment home. Small plastic bags of raw, shelled sunflower seeds are part of the weekly bundle of food Sam buys when he makes the trek to the Co-op. One handful for Sam, one handful for the birds. Like many who spend time observing the nature of things, Sam and Sally made friends with the animals.
Split the Sparrow
Spring was tardy
The sun busy behind bundles of deep clouds
With the wind and the stars, no doubt.
We watched her
One brown spotted sparrow
Her tail feathers split in right angles
War injury, disabled by a wandering cat?
Injured perhaps, but no less able
She ate, she flew, she lived.
Tardy spring or not
Babies birth and want to eat
They chirp and yell and will not sleep.
With summer’s sun two birds
Did come and made our day
To watch.
A baby plump with mouth wide open
Called to his momma, “Me, me, me, me, me.”
And she with the tail half-there complied.
She ate, she fed, she lived.
JOTS (short for Johnny on the spot)
“Where do you live? Is this place you live, also the place you call home?” A scrawny black cat found her way to the cooking table outside our dear friends’ basement home. It was the smell of simmering chicken that led her there no doubt, like a jot across the length of the cement sidewalk she was on the spot. Within a blink Sally Round knew this was a wanderer, bred wild this feline must have had some time with human company for in spite of the near bones look of her the wee kitty meowed as sweet as it comes, wound her face and neck around Sal’s ankles and moved shamelessly toward the smell of food. Hundreds of the feline wanderers survive among the House Dwellers. When Sam Tall and Sally Round made camp in the Subaru along the salty black lava beaches of Oahu there were baby wanderers who found them, too. In the dark of night those who rest for the night in one spot don’t necessarily call it home. But to the feline ones I wonder whether any separation exists between the two questions. Where they find food and a place to sleep, that is home for the time. That’s what begins to happen to House Dwellers ushered out of the illusionary safety of walls and a roof. Safety is contingent, and the need to move on ever the possibility. For now, the young wild cat sleeps near by and once, or twice a day Sam fills a plastic bowl with food for her. Sam Tall walks around the side of the house, passes the ancient evergreen that shadows the drive and leaves the bowl on the porch step. Kitty follows underfoot. The sadness comes for Sal and Sam when they privately know they cannot attach themselves to another cat. But, they do for today.
Pewter Rabbit
Beatrix, did you know the bunny’d come?
Oh, how like you to send one in the knick of time.
Pewter yet shinier
Shameless
Loves dandelions
Top to bottom
Turns tail to the sunflower sprouts
Bunny on our front lawn
Makes us giggle
Makes us smile
Wild bunny on our front lawn
Makes us feel
Like friends
Squawk Box
Big mouthed busy body
Opened to the world
Knows our business
Speaks about it
Never minds
The time of day
Sam Tall has built many things. His earliest work was big; building forms for bridges that would span mighty rivers, swinging in a cement bucket in the dark frozen Wisconsin winter, laying floors in nuclear plants. A huge ocean-viewing home overlooking Kahoolawe on the island of Maui was a Sam Tall project. Our man Sam has used his body to do the work he loved, and in the years as laborer and builder he has touched, smelled and absorbed every chemical, solvent, additive and sealant typical of the American jobsite. The tiny basement Everything Room sits on the southwest-side of the city and to Sam’s delight the new place is within a few minutes drive of a builder’s choice of goods and services. Sam’s history and his life with a Sensitive conjured his biggest challenge. Sam and Sally wrestled for months the idea of building a safe Gypsy-style caravan-a mobile safe place, not really knowing the answers to “how” “when” or “where.” Life in the Everything Room drew our pair closer to some of the answers on some days. With newly experienced stability there was room to put texture to the imaginings that had filled their minds and sketchbooks. The basement apartment was an answer to the “where.” The city offered lumber yards, fabricators, window makers and shops where nuts, bolts and fasteners could be picked out of bins in numbers of Sam’s choosing rather than in packages of a dozen when he only needed one.
On alternating days questions and challenges grew like a yard-full of dandelions. Viewed this way you could say the new and unpredicted questions like that yard of dandelions are not all bad. Sam and Sally love the stout-hearted yellow flowering wild green. Yet, as I said in the very opening line it may be a bit premature to begin the tale because in fact the story has not yet been completely made up. It’s a brave decision to be sawing, sanding, nailing and build within steps of their kitchenette. Tools and the processes tools create can be problematic for a Sensitive, all that dust, the collection of smells that cling to Sam as he weaves his way into and through the aisles of Big Boxes and Seattle alley-ways. The truth is, as I began to weave this part of the tale, I am reminded that this very imperfect location offered space for building, and life with multiple chemical sensitivities means being vulnerable most anywhere. So again, I watched as our friends accepted what was on offer, and adjusted.
Summer came to the Pacific Northwest and brought with her the sun. Sam Tall is used to heat so when the cool weather lovers of Seattle withered from humidity and heat he was energized. By mid-August the beginnings of the Gypsy wagon was anchored stoutly to the steel frame. Although Sam and Sal had taken as many precautions in choosing building material, they discovered that the foam insulation would not be a safe material after-all. That’s the thing about constructing this vardo: the rules for building are different. The mantra to simply ‘be green’ is not enough. When given the ‘put the questionable material in the jar test’ the foam insulation sent dear Sal into a spin and into her bed to recover. On more than one night, I have watched Sam glaze over and melt into the creases of his face. How to make things work for his Sal is a question he can’t always know. Cancer in his Sun and Taurus in his Moon, the man makes homes. Perhaps the kernel that is his origin allows him to improvise--to make these homes without knowing everything at the beginning. Things change, a crab moves side to side to get where he wants to go. Sal knows that the choices she makes are her full time job. “Every decision made is a choice between resentment and miracle.” Her meditation reminds her that there is a choice. With slow yet steady progress the two dears practiced this simple and powerful lesson from The Course in Miracles. Some choices led backward, retracing and replacing a direction that was just not the right fit. Other times progress was divine and effortless.
Split the Sparrow
Spring was tardy
The sun busy behind bundles of deep clouds
With the wind and the stars, no doubt.
We watched her
One brown spotted sparrow
Her tail feathers split in right angles
War injury, disabled by a wandering cat?
Injured perhaps, but no less able
She ate, she flew, she lived.
Tardy spring or not
Babies birth and want to eat
They chirp and yell and will not sleep.
With summer’s sun two birds
Did come and made our day
To watch.
A baby plump with mouth wide open
Called to his momma, “Me, me, me, me, me.”
And she with the tail half-there complied.
She ate, she fed, she lived.
JOTS (short for Johnny on the spot)
“Where do you live? Is this place you live, also the place you call home?” A scrawny black cat found her way to the cooking table outside our dear friends’ basement home. It was the smell of simmering chicken that led her there no doubt, like a jot across the length of the cement sidewalk she was on the spot. Within a blink Sally Round knew this was a wanderer, bred wild this feline must have had some time with human company for in spite of the near bones look of her the wee kitty meowed as sweet as it comes, wound her face and neck around Sal’s ankles and moved shamelessly toward the smell of food. Hundreds of the feline wanderers survive among the House Dwellers. When Sam Tall and Sally Round made camp in the Subaru along the salty black lava beaches of Oahu there were baby wanderers who found them, too. In the dark of night those who rest for the night in one spot don’t necessarily call it home. But to the feline ones I wonder whether any separation exists between the two questions. Where they find food and a place to sleep, that is home for the time. That’s what begins to happen to House Dwellers ushered out of the illusionary safety of walls and a roof. Safety is contingent, and the need to move on ever the possibility. For now, the young wild cat sleeps near by and once, or twice a day Sam fills a plastic bowl with food for her. Sam Tall walks around the side of the house, passes the ancient evergreen that shadows the drive and leaves the bowl on the porch step. Kitty follows underfoot. The sadness comes for Sal and Sam when they privately know they cannot attach themselves to another cat. But, they do for today.
Pewter Rabbit
Beatrix, did you know the bunny’d come?
Oh, how like you to send one in the knick of time.
Pewter yet shinier
Shameless
Loves dandelions
Top to bottom
Turns tail to the sunflower sprouts
Bunny on our front lawn
Makes us giggle
Makes us smile
Wild bunny on our front lawn
Makes us feel
Like friends
Squawk Box
Big mouthed busy body
Opened to the world
Knows our business
Speaks about it
Never minds
The time of day
Sam Tall has built many things. His earliest work was big; building forms for bridges that would span mighty rivers, swinging in a cement bucket in the dark frozen Wisconsin winter, laying floors in nuclear plants. A huge ocean-viewing home overlooking Kahoolawe on the island of Maui was a Sam Tall project. Our man Sam has used his body to do the work he loved, and in the years as laborer and builder he has touched, smelled and absorbed every chemical, solvent, additive and sealant typical of the American jobsite. The tiny basement Everything Room sits on the southwest-side of the city and to Sam’s delight the new place is within a few minutes drive of a builder’s choice of goods and services. Sam’s history and his life with a Sensitive conjured his biggest challenge. Sam and Sally wrestled for months the idea of building a safe Gypsy-style caravan-a mobile safe place, not really knowing the answers to “how” “when” or “where.” Life in the Everything Room drew our pair closer to some of the answers on some days. With newly experienced stability there was room to put texture to the imaginings that had filled their minds and sketchbooks. The basement apartment was an answer to the “where.” The city offered lumber yards, fabricators, window makers and shops where nuts, bolts and fasteners could be picked out of bins in numbers of Sam’s choosing rather than in packages of a dozen when he only needed one.
On alternating days questions and challenges grew like a yard-full of dandelions. Viewed this way you could say the new and unpredicted questions like that yard of dandelions are not all bad. Sam and Sally love the stout-hearted yellow flowering wild green. Yet, as I said in the very opening line it may be a bit premature to begin the tale because in fact the story has not yet been completely made up. It’s a brave decision to be sawing, sanding, nailing and build within steps of their kitchenette. Tools and the processes tools create can be problematic for a Sensitive, all that dust, the collection of smells that cling to Sam as he weaves his way into and through the aisles of Big Boxes and Seattle alley-ways. The truth is, as I began to weave this part of the tale, I am reminded that this very imperfect location offered space for building, and life with multiple chemical sensitivities means being vulnerable most anywhere. So again, I watched as our friends accepted what was on offer, and adjusted.
Summer came to the Pacific Northwest and brought with her the sun. Sam Tall is used to heat so when the cool weather lovers of Seattle withered from humidity and heat he was energized. By mid-August the beginnings of the Gypsy wagon was anchored stoutly to the steel frame. Although Sam and Sal had taken as many precautions in choosing building material, they discovered that the foam insulation would not be a safe material after-all. That’s the thing about constructing this vardo: the rules for building are different. The mantra to simply ‘be green’ is not enough. When given the ‘put the questionable material in the jar test’ the foam insulation sent dear Sal into a spin and into her bed to recover. On more than one night, I have watched Sam glaze over and melt into the creases of his face. How to make things work for his Sal is a question he can’t always know. Cancer in his Sun and Taurus in his Moon, the man makes homes. Perhaps the kernel that is his origin allows him to improvise--to make these homes without knowing everything at the beginning. Things change, a crab moves side to side to get where he wants to go. Sal knows that the choices she makes are her full time job. “Every decision made is a choice between resentment and miracle.” Her meditation reminds her that there is a choice. With slow yet steady progress the two dears practiced this simple and powerful lesson from The Course in Miracles. Some choices led backward, retracing and replacing a direction that was just not the right fit. Other times progress was divine and effortless.
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