Category Archives: Small Instances of Joy

Makes Me Laugh So

I know this is a silly picture. This cat, Picabuche (Pico), sits on top of this wok set which is on top of the fridge.

Behold, Wok Kitty!

And do NOT snicker!

Pico is one of the biggest cats I have ever owned and that adds to my smile every time I see him sleeping up here. Every once in a while he misses the jump from the kitchen table to the fridge. There is a VERY LARGE Thump! when that happens.

Being a book-oriented person, this set up makes me think of Terry Pratchett books. I have to wonder if his life has been full of such circumstances and happenstances like Wok Kitty which give him inspiration for his books.

Living on a small farm, I often see things that my once-city-eyes would have found odd – like a little 2 pound game cock mounting an 8 pound hen. (Ridiculous) Donkeys running through the snow, farting the entire time. (Juvenile Humor) The goats getting into a head-butting contest with the geese, and loosing. (Dorks).

How about things in your life that could end up in a book? The strange coworker as a basis for an odd character? Beyond ridiculous office rules as basis for a far flung space bureaucracy?

What are you reading now?

I love seeing people read in public, out and about with their nose in a book, and I always want to stop and ask them –Hey! Whaddya reading?

I love reading a paperback while walking hither and yon and stumbling into the car stopped at the light, look up, and see the driver smiling and chuckling at me–she’s been there, done that, and I know she wants to know what’s got me so riveted.

My bud reads at the factory’s quality lab cafeteria lunch room. Every day. The incessant chatter and lunchtime bitch and moan sessions do not bother her in the least. Gosh! What is she reading that she can tune all that out?

I’ve seen women Of A Certain Age accompany their husbands to the movies. But while he’s watching it, eyes aglow, she’s got her nose in a book–she’s blind as a bat but she can see those words in the ultra-dim theater. Rlly? What is she reading that is more exciting than the moving picture?

The hubs and I decided we were OK for a second date, when, on the first, we both secretively tried to read under the table–and we were both reading William Gibson. (no, really!) *love!* What are you reading?

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Ok- the floor is open to discussion for Friday Chat: What are you reading now?

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Cherry Blossoms in the Park

The cherry trees are blooming in the walkway by the river. It was a lovely experience to be out with other people enjoying this spectacle: picnics, dates, family time, or meditation. This man was playing his harp for the trees, which added an especial mystical quality to the evening. I took these photos for you Darkcargo peoples, wishing you luck and joy.

For Ye Olde Book Club Sunday post, your assignment is to go forth and explore Haiku. Find one that speaks to you, or write your own, and tell me about it. Here’s a few (below), from Matsuo Bashō.

What’s blooming in your area? Does the emergence of Spring put a “spring” in your step? What events, changes, goals do you anticipate for yourself and your loved ones between now and when the cherry trees bloom again next year? Does your community have many gardens or parks or natural areas?

A lovely spring night
suddenly vanished while we
viewed cherry blossoms
Matsuo Bashō

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Guanyin’s tiled temple
roof floats far away in clouds
of cherry blossoms
Matsuo Bashō

(Guanyin is the Bodhisattva of Compassion)

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Blogging Companions

Your indulgence, please.

I have been told that I am not a very concise writer, and that is true. I love words, and putting them together. I revel in using them to gush over beloved books and favorite authors. This blog has been good for me. So here is a little bit about my blogging companions.

They have the most expressive faces.

They enjoy the same snacks I do.

They are fuzzy and four legged.

Majestic Jeegs

Jigan is our franken-pitbull. He came with many scars, and has had a few surgeries along the way. In short, he has gotten more fugly over the years.

Tanuki is a shelter mut that Jigan picked out last April. Let me be absolutely clear on this: Tanuki is Jigan’s dog. Jigan has never really taken to another dog in his long years with us. Finally, at the age of 12 he was suffering from loneliness and trying to chew a hole through very solid doors while we were both at work. So we sucked in a deep breath, and took the plunge. We drove Jigan to the shelter one Saturday morning and proceeded to introduce him to a few female pitbull mixes in the shelter’s play areas. None of them took. We were ready to pack it in and give the doggy psychologist a call. We made one more walk through the warren of adoptable dogs, and there was Tanuki, all 70 lbs of him in fuzzy greatness. He had literally just arrived from foster care and vet signing off on his adoptability 15 minutes prior to meeting us.

Tanuki Prior To Hair Cut

Well, we turned the two loose in the play pen and within 10 minutes we knew. So after signing away my first born child and a reasonable check, I was able to put a lead on Tanuki and pack him in the car and cart him home. Jigan’s depression and anxiety have been gone since Night 1 of bringing Tanuki home. Tanuki will spend hours grooming his pitbull, and Jigan loves it. They cuddle and play that infuriatingly annoying game of Who’s Mouth Is Bigger. They zip as fast as they can through the living room, occasionally knocking over furniture. And they are both exquisitely expressive while begging for treats.

So two months ago, Jigan was suffering from skin allergies, an on-going condition. This time around he had a a few odd bumps. So off the vet’s for a prednisone shot for the allergies. However, the vet had never seen a case of bumps like his. The other resident vet was called in and had no clue either. They excised two of the lumps and sent them off for analysis. A few days later, I got a call that started with telling me stuff about the ‘mitotic index’ and such. No good call starts with technical details like that, so I was prepared when, 7.5 minutes later, the vet told me Jigan had terminal cancer and the best we can do is make him comfortable for as long as possible.

Jigan and Tanuki Begging for Pistachios

Jigan is now ~13 years old, and I figure he has had a good long run. So far, the daily pill of prednisone is keeping him pain-free and active. I don’t know how long he will be around, but looking back am I ever glad we took that plunge and got Jigan a dog of his own.

happiness edited more better to say what I mean

We don’t wax very poetic or insightful or meaningful here on Darkcargo, and have chosen to maintain this site in a non-introspective manner for…reasons. It’s not that I don’t have troubles, or am unwilling to take comfort in my friends, it’s just that my troubles are manageable and really pretty small.

If Darkcargo can bring you comfort or enjoyment then it will have served its purpose.

I hate this concept of “indulging in joy”, as though joy were a sin or a temptation or something evil to be avoided. You see it on bubble bath ads, or when women talk about eating chocolate as though they are “naughty” for doing so. The romance genre is often viewed as “lesser” because the plots are simplistic and end happily by definition. Women are supposed to read romance but they’re not supposed to admit to it, and if they enjoy romances, they are dumb. This contradiction **really** pisses me off.

Sadness and despair are easy and ready companions to humanity, and I view them as the easy path. It would be easy for me to wall myself up in depression over an unsold house and prolonged unemployment, frustrated at the powers that be that I am feeling powerless to confront. But in so doing, I would make my husband miserable, continue to be unemployed by discontinuing the job search, estrange myself from friends and fam, burn bridges. I have walked that path and find depression to be a destructive choice.

It can be difficult to find delight in a world that crashes in on us, that bombards us with stresses and unfairnesses and difficult decisions.

I choose to take my joy where I can find it, and in so doing hope be a source of joy for the folks in my life. Joy is a rare and precious thing and demands from me my best care and biggest awe. It is often silly and simple–sunshine on the back of my neck, my brother’s laugh, polished granite countertops that show reaction rims. But by choosing to display a light heart, I find that people are more readily able to laugh, to give themselves permission to find moments of joy. And I find the opposite to be exactly true.

Happiness is not a permanent or current thing, and it will only be found when you let it find you.

Eat the god damn chocolate bar.

JOY

–Carl Sandburg

     LET a joy keep you.
Reach out your hands
And take it when it runs by,
As the Apache dancer
Clutches his woman.
I have seen them
Live long and laugh loud,
Sent on singing, singing,
Smashed to the heart
Under the ribs
With a terrible love.
Joy always,
Joy everywhere–
Let joy kill you!
Keep away from the little deaths.

Small Joys with Pirates

This is one of those blunt force joys.

Singing in the car.

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Joy number Whatever

Deciding not to take it for granted. Standing out in the rain in my 15x15ft backyard that smells like dogshit.

Listening to the frogs and thunder and rain.

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Gold Lamé

Thursday Night on the Town:
Glitter + feathers + funny shoes + stage makeup + dance and music + taffeta + gold lamé + tights + hair-do’s + great expanses of exposed body parts + beer = Burlesque!

Friday Night on the Town:
Glitter + feathers + funny shoes + stage makeup + dance and music + taffeta + gold lamé + tights + hair-do’s + great expanses of exposed body parts + $45 per ticket = Ballet!

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This is Small Instances of Joy #8: live performances!