Friday, May 07, 2021
This morning I learned something very sad... sudden and sad. Teresa Kasner passed away, just yesterday. It was unexpected, and I cannot imagine the shock and grief her family, and friends must be in. Her dear friend, Betsy, reached out to Teresa's blogging friends, on Dayle's behalf. Dayle was Teresa's husband of 51 years. Teresa called him Chef Dayle, when sharing the many dishes he fixed, the breakfasts, lunches and dinners, and Teresa always made them look and sound amazing, even a sandwich was appreciated and extolled in her posts. I am going to miss reading about those meals, because through something "everyday," she reminded me of the love and care we receive in even simple things, and to take notice, celebrate those gestures and moments. Teresa could make anything a noteworthy thing, and celebrated each day, and every person, all occasions, with grateful, admiring intent. She was a new friend to me, and I am already changed and inspired by her life, by her bright perspective, her many talents, and how she seemed to possess endless energy for raising people up, seeing the best in a flower, a view, a jadeite vase. Not only did she comment on my blog, leaving me her signature ((hugs)), sharing a bit of herself, and engaging with me, she would also email me, to go in depth on subjects, like goats, and crochet, offering encouragement, and practical support. Did I mention the endless energy? She posted regularly, often, and it was always something fresh, something full of her interest and enthusiasm, whether she was rearranging her beloved jadeite pieces, making another holiday display, or celebrating a grandchild, a new flower blooming, on an adventure with her husband, she put her whole heart and convictions into her blog, into her life. She was an artist, in many mediums, and an active, enthused member of her community, and I am heartbroken as I think on all of the ways she will be missed... on how much I will miss her.
It's customary to annotate our relationship to someone, how we know them, like a qualifier, as though we are ranking our position, or implying the relationship is conditional. I would have said, "My blogging friend," until now. But, now I think of it, I don't feel like just a blogging friend, and I as I think of all of my blogging friends, I feel keenly that so many of those friendships are too dear, too meaningful to qualify, to make smaller than they feel to me. Teresa was a generous friend, an inspiring friend. Even the distance between our homes, her in Oregon, along the Columbia River Gorge, and me in Southern California, didn't feel so great. When I discovered that Teresa had a role in Vista House, just one of the beautiful and treasured experiences I have enjoyed in Oregon, I felt the distance shrink. I took her invitation to heart, and was looking forward to her offer of a personal tour of Vista House... I wouldn't have hesitated to accept any chance to know her better, to spend more time with her. I imagine all of her many friends, and especially her family, are wishing for more time in her sweet company. I hope her husband, and family, find comfort in knowing that her memory is dear to many, that so many of us celebrate and honor her memory, and are grieved to lose her. She is remembered, admired, appreciated, loved. Dayle finding her a good deal on more pieces, and the two of them bringing home something new. I will miss her regular posts, news, updates, her uplifting spirit. I will miss the anticipation of someday meeting Teresa in person, of seeing her newest crochet project... and more, but just now, I am feeling another wave of shock and disbelief. like the ones I remember when I was first getting to know her. I don't want to remove her name from the list of bloggers that I visit, but it will be a painful reminder to see more and more days pass, and no news from lovely Teresa Kasner. And. It will be hard to know that I won't hear from her, won't have another of her thoughtful comments, a ((hug)), some of her uplifting words, and kindness. So many friends will be missing her comments, her good spirit.
Thursday, May 06, 2021
Tasha is on the verge of forgiving me for the whole incident with the baby goat. And about the baby goat, that's become, how to describe it... a sad mess. The feedstore returned her to the breeder, and the feedstore won't call me, or take my calls, or when I do reach them, they insist it's out of their hands. So. All of my good intentions about working with them, and doing whatever was best for the goat, have been totally disrespected, dismissed, and my favorite feedstore of 21 years is treating me like an invisible nobody. It has been suggested that I fight this, but I honestly don't have much fight in me, not after the thrashing I've taken from aforementioned Never Ending DLDD. And what can I possibly gain? They refunded the payment. And they don't have the goat. It really comes down to me asking them to care about my feelings, to acknowledge that I wanted to have the goat, and get her good care. I can't force a business to like me, or to honor an agreement that was made in trust, in hope. I believe the breeder is doing, or did? the best for the goat, and I console myself with the belief that being cute and sweet, she will live a good life, somewhere. But it hurts... I wanted her to be ours, and I was doing all the things that I trusted and hoped were best. At the very least, I thought they would be decent enough to let me know how Grace is doing, if she is recovering. Ha! I was thinking this could turn into a happy post, all about how good things outweigh bad, and gratitude, but I needed to not let Grace Hoppper's story hang in the air, untold, ghosted. It seems she wasn't meant to be our forever goat, and I hope that she is well.
A bird built a nest on the header of the Smithy shop overhang. I couldn't see into the nest. But some bird sure made her nest pretty, with alyssum, woven in the grass and twigs.