I languished through August, as I do – hot weather wilts me. So, now, amidst the business of helping the Minotaur husband through recovery from surgery, and nursing a sick kitten, and waiting to get my car out of the shop? I have to play catch-up in the gardens to ready them for winter.
So, if I have a morning where medical appointments or sick kittens don’t confine me to the house, I am outdoors with barely coffee on board, trying to work before the already autumnal sun warms enough to send my semi-vampire self into the shadows of the house. This week, I attacked the troublesome south garden.
It is the driest garden, and this year the moles demolished it. All my Oriental poppies died, their roots left hanging in tunnel space created by moles and possibly enlarged by rats taking over mole-space. I weeded, despairingly. A maenad should be madly galloping about the woods — knocking hubristic men on their asses, right? What am I doing on my hands and knees in a flower garden?
Well, even a most mad maenad knows when the tide of stupid, male or otherwise, is too great for one woman’s wrath. I admit, I fear for my nation and the world. Our news is hopelessly biased, and anyone daring to tell the truth gets sued or arrested. The Clinton Foundation is savagely accused of ill-doing on no evidence, while the Trump Foundation is a thin cover for him using other folks’ money to give to charities that think Trump gives a damn. She is grilled on insufficient press sessions and wearing sunglasses, while he refuses to even release tax returns? She is accused of conflicts of interest, while he is not seriously questioned about ties to Russian oligarchs? She is not perfect; but he is a nightmare. But Americans don’t know that because the the press is owned and operated by American oligarchs.
Our nation is too easily diverted by stories about what some celebrity is doing, while the planet prepares to burn as climate change alters our world and our lives. The next wars won’t be for oil, but for water to drink and grow food! But we Americans, wrapped in our exceptionalism, think it matters little what happens to the masses of desperate, hungry, thirsty, war-fraught refugees of the world. We think we are safe from them. We are fools.
So, yes, the maenad has retreated to her garden. I want to make a safe and possibly beautiful place where my children and friends can hunker down for the dark days and nights I believe are ahead of us all. I find my voice unheard in daily life, shouted down even by those I thought were friends, whenever I say anything challenging fondly held delusions. I am an aging maenad, too. My energy is more limited, I must choose my battles more carefully than ever. I stick to what I know and what the world around me tells me.
I don’t watch the news much anymore: Free advertising for a meglomaniac, misogyny on show, lies told to the most vulnerable and frightened segments of my society, education downplayed and dogmatic “faith” in pure bullshit played up. It sickens me. Even a maenad can’t fix willful stupidity. Is a fortress mentality the right one? Or simply all I feel up to these days? I don’t know, but I know bleeding out on the bullshit-encrusted barb-wire isn’t serving anyone. No more pearls before self-deluded swine!