Sedum Rot

Hydrangeas fade and sedum rot. The rains seem to seal us into our house. Ules is home, sick. Pierre is in the bath tub and Ules is sitting on the floor reading to him. I am downstairs on the couch reading a book called The Pollen Path: A Collection of Navajo Myths by Margaret Schevill Link.

Yesterday I made chocolate chip cookies, inspired by Silly Lily's beautiful dozen that I bought and devoured over the weekend. Well (ahem) it was two dozen actually.

My mom phoned early this morning to say my dad had a mild heart attack. Luckily, he made it to the hospital and he is in recovery. Oddly, I had been thinking about heart attacks yesterday, and I had been dreaming of my father in our childhood home. I dreamt our cat caught and killed a rat in the hallway. So oddly enough, I wasn't surprised to hear something had happened. I rarely have dreams that are that violent in nature, even though I read about violence all the time in the newspaper and in the fiction I read. I'm also reading a book about the history of forensic science called Corpse: Nature, Forensics, and the Struggle to Pinpoint time of Death--An Exploration of the Haunting Science of Forensic Ecology by Jessica Snyder Sachs. I had been thinking about how vulnerable we all are to damage, rot, and decay. I guess I'm at the age where I don't take my corporeal strengths or weaknesses for granted.

All this may seem morbid, but it's actually good for me to face the fear of death on a regular basis. I can go into fantasy land and forget all about the body and then when I come back to it, it can repulse me. Better to face the rot, see how it affects us day by day, season by season. Is it Protestantism that has given me a natural aversion to all things body? That's probably part of it. I don't really understand the rest, but maybe it's time I figured it out.