Judy at her May 21 book party holding two new books, Political Peaches and Grace: A China Diary, 1910-16. Photo by Johnsie Tipton. *** Those Eternally Linked Lives 14May 28, 2017 The peas are nearly finished. I pick beet leaves, half-grown lettuce, two firm bright green peppers, fronds of lemon balm and peppermint for tea. The hens gave me seven eggs. Sun again after so much rain brings out tiny bumps that will be figs by August. I hack at poison ivy, pull handfuls of bamboo grass, mow the backyard where Wag’s vole holes outdo the grass. Dale comes to change my flat tire, puts on the spare. I drive thirty miles for the flat to be repaired. Harold mows more of my yard than I had managed and leaves before I can thank him. Birthday wishes come by mail, e-mail, and phone. The waves I make in the wider world are scarcely noticed, but I fall asleep reassured that I’m doing what I need to do. My less reliable memory is good enough. Everything I do counts in the long tabulation of the centuries. “Be of good cheer,”
sounds in my ears. Sun reigns. *** More book party photos by Johnsie Tipton on May 21. ***
Judy having signed a copy of Grace for Dean Tipton. ***
Behind the book cases, left to right: Dean Tipton, Carol Hay, Judy, and Linda King. On the couch: Skip Baker. Drawings by grandchildren some years ago. The bird flying, a gift from my Russian friend Mikhail in 1992.
Those Eternally Linked Lives 13 May 21, 2017 My phalaenopsis orchid has twenty blooms, each a revelation. All the green-white lanterns have become exuberant faces, winged like butterflies. Outside the window green sweetgum stars flutter, then dance when the wind picks up. Sometimes the gods offer a miracle so easy to turn down. It could never work. It isn’t enough. We did wish for more, yet to connect as we did kept us safe and happy. If sometimes sad, yet out of despair. We were too busy flinging ourselves those impossible distances to grieve at what wasn’t possible, given who we were and what we valued: truth and faithfulness, joy in helping others see what we saw. Since you died, there are new shadows. A great darkness hovers: cruel, making hatred seem normal, claiming evil is good and good is evil. The human spirit has been here before. We know how to die if we have to. Meantime we keep singing our hymn to liberty, justice, and mutual love.
First Snow by Nikolai Smirnov. Village Farm in Russian provinces *** Those Eternally Linked Lives 12 May 14, 2017 How could I forget those days we spent in my village when you came for two weeks to North Carolina? We didn’t sleep together yet our spirits fused. Your warm hands caressed my neck when I was driving. You’d take me to a large oak, take off your shoe, and put your foot over mine while we prayed to the spirit in the tree and over all. Sometimes you were angry, or I was, but you’d say we had to talk, and we would. Such perfect love left us raw when anger flared. We’d lose Paradise and then re-find it. We tried to part, but couldn’t do it. So we carried each other’s souls the rest of our lives. Your wife and son ministered to your failing human body. You wrote one letter after I sent you my love poem This River. You were glad our story was being told. Your wife forgives me. So do her sons. Somehow I added richness to your life as you added grace to mine. The mystery of such love is never fully understood, but it stays. I will never forget those hours and days when our souls were simply one.
Spring garden a few years ago. Beets and onions. *** Those Eternally Linked Lives 11May 7, 2017 Slapped down by a Cold Front, Spring resurges; yellow green of new leaves; purple-veined beet greens, lettuce leaves crowded close. I pick my salad. The figs undeterred. A few dead branches from recent years’ hard freezes don’t discourage them. Forsythia is resurrected; the hydrangea’s third crop of leaves is still alive. I’ve made room for the new iris bulbs. Bird song is early because they’re nesting, feeding young. No time for love tunes. A freshening wind as the sun pulls the earth back to warmer soil, more blooms, and swelling pea ponds. All is steady, safe, worries laid to rest. The dog and I slept well. The sleep budget is balanced. Evil men are doing harm, but we will stop them, one at a time. When you have justice on your side, sooner or later you win, and if need
