The There There Letter: July, Jury-rigging, and Journeys
Three things from DAH.
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, July …
I began to write about the Jura wine region in eastern France, between Burgundy and Switzerland. I've had some interesting wines from this lesser-known, cooler, hilly wine territory. But I don't have any immediately to hand and didn't want to order any for delivery from a specialty shop because it's pretty hot for shipping these days. It's July, so no surprise in California. As a kid July was special. It was invariably warm and sunny. The only real commitment was a few weeks of partial days in summer school. All the other kids were out and about, and it was easy to find a pick-up game of baseball or basketball. I can almost remember the feeling of seemingly endless sunny days. But not quite. Unless I burn my bare feet on the back patio (guilty). Otherwise, July is hot, and halfway through the year, and I wish an escape to the cool woods of Jura were in the cards.
My idyllic childhood summer, if I'd spent every summer in England with my cousins
Second up this week, Jury-rigging …
Travel planning is tenuous in these pandemic days. Even if I could afford an escape to the Jura, the French wouldn't let me in the country, not until things settle down stateside. Even short and local trips are challenging: I'd have to figure out what's safe and open, and how to manage our three dogs (not the greatest of travelers). Getting out and about used to seem so straight-forward. Now any outing is a jury-rigged affair: something cobbled together in the absence of our once-normal opportunities. Jury-rigged is how I think of daily life now. The boat we're in seems familiar, but some important bits are lost or broken. We've done our best to keep it sea-worthy, but getting to where we thought we were going is either not possible, or a very different journey than we'd anticipated.
Sailing as Metaphor (not that I'm a sailor)
Third up this week, Journeys …
I keep musing about journeys: short ones, long ones, fun ones, serious ones, and ones that aren't one's, they're ours. Sometimes the two overlap. Our own journey jogs left or right because of things happening in the world. Our shared journey jogs then, too. The journey I thought I was on in 2009 jogged in a new direction in 2011, and again in 2013, and even more abruptly in 2016. The destination I had in mind discarded: once, twice, thrice … more times, but beyond the word "thrice" lies no equivalent for the fourth time. That's probably a good thing. I don't think I want to account for all changes of destination and revisions of journey. Besides, three is a good number.
On Our Journey (a post on thetherethere.com
And a little bit extra …
ENDLESS JOURNEY, by Anthony Taimanglo Taitano
The journey we make in life is long and hard. This
journey which has its crossroads … when we get to them.
we have to decide on which road to take, what path to
make and what's down that road. This journey that we must make has many obstacles,
many detours, many signs. We see the signs, but never
heed its warnings, we see the detours in life, but seem
to stray the other way. Life is rough and so is this journey that we're making.
This journey we make has its trail of tears and its path
of happiness, the two never meeting. When finally, we choose our path, we must follow it to
the end, to the end of its road, which is our destiny in
life. That's when life begins.
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I write, organize, plan, produce, manage, direct, act, sing, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, July …
I began to write about the Jura wine region in eastern France, between Burgundy and Switzerland. I've had some interesting wines from this lesser-known, cooler, hilly wine territory. But I don't have any immediately to hand and didn't want to order any for delivery from a specialty shop because it's pretty hot for shipping these days. It's July, so no surprise in California. As a kid July was special. It was invariably warm and sunny. The only real commitment was a few weeks of partial days in summer school. All the other kids were out and about, and it was easy to find a pick-up game of baseball or basketball. I can almost remember the feeling of seemingly endless sunny days. But not quite. Unless I burn my bare feet on the back patio (guilty). Otherwise, July is hot, and halfway through the year, and I wish an escape to the cool woods of Jura were in the cards.
My idyllic childhood summer, if I'd spent every summer in England with my cousins
Second up this week, Jury-rigging …
Travel planning is tenuous in these pandemic days. Even if I could afford an escape to the Jura, the French wouldn't let me in the country, not until things settle down stateside. Even short and local trips are challenging: I'd have to figure out what's safe and open, and how to manage our three dogs (not the greatest of travelers). Getting out and about used to seem so straight-forward. Now any outing is a jury-rigged affair: something cobbled together in the absence of our once-normal opportunities. Jury-rigged is how I think of daily life now. The boat we're in seems familiar, but some important bits are lost or broken. We've done our best to keep it sea-worthy, but getting to where we thought we were going is either not possible, or a very different journey than we'd anticipated.
Sailing as Metaphor (not that I'm a sailor)
Third up this week, Journeys …
I keep musing about journeys: short ones, long ones, fun ones, serious ones, and ones that aren't one's, they're ours. Sometimes the two overlap. Our own journey jogs left or right because of things happening in the world. Our shared journey jogs then, too. The journey I thought I was on in 2009 jogged in a new direction in 2011, and again in 2013, and even more abruptly in 2016. The destination I had in mind discarded: once, twice, thrice … more times, but beyond the word "thrice" lies no equivalent for the fourth time. That's probably a good thing. I don't think I want to account for all changes of destination and revisions of journey. Besides, three is a good number.
On Our Journey (a post on thetherethere.com
And a little bit extra …
ENDLESS JOURNEY, by Anthony Taimanglo Taitano
The journey we make in life is long and hard. This
journey which has its crossroads … when we get to them.
we have to decide on which road to take, what path to
make and what's down that road. This journey that we must make has many obstacles,
many detours, many signs. We see the signs, but never
heed its warnings, we see the detours in life, but seem
to stray the other way. Life is rough and so is this journey that we're making.
This journey we make has its trail of tears and its path
of happiness, the two never meeting. When finally, we choose our path, we must follow it to
the end, to the end of its road, which is our destiny in
life. That's when life begins.
That's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's poem "Sometimes" …
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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