Fog lay thick over most of Los Angeles this morning and is something of an event, strange enough that both boys jumped out of bed easily when I said, You should come quick and see the fog! It's so weird! The rainy season in our part of the world has set in, there are tiny black mushrooms clustered around the base of trees, and yesterday I practically tripped over a white one that looked more like it should be called a toadstool than fungi. I have so much to do these days, so many telephone calls to make and people to think of and meetings to attend. I'm juggling my son Oliver's anxiety and mild depression, Sophie's seizures and Henry's applications for high school. The new job has me attending healthcare round-tables where harrowing stories of children removed from their homes due to neglect are presented and professionals from seemingly every profession one can imagine put their heads together to discuss and help. Someone asked me whether it's depressing, and so far, it's not. It's uplifting, rather, to participate in something positive. I'm grateful to not only have the work but to do it. I crashed into another car today, a tiny fender bender, while stopped at a traffic light. I jumped out of my car and exclaimed my apologies to the burly guy in his. He fingered the scratches in his car, a shiny, red convertible and sighed. I thought he'd be angry. I thought he'd accuse me of something. I thought of the insurance premiums rising as my adrenaline did. He sighed, though, and he didn't get angry. We exchanged information and went on our way. I got an email a couple of hours later. He included a copy of a bill from a hardware store for some paint. He said that he would touch up the scratches himself and bang out the dents. The bill was for $8.13, and he wondered whether I would reimburse him for it.
The world is not ugly, and the people are not sad.
**one of my favorite Wallace Stevens' poems:
That strange flower, the sun, Is just what you say. Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad. That tuft of jungle feathers, That animal eye, Is just what you say. That savage of fire, That seed, Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad.