Both Sides Now

 

We watched the movie CODA this week. It was a powerful movie with some wonderful music, including a beautiful rendition of Joni Mitchell's Both Sides Now. Since watching the movie, I have listened to that song many times, sung by many different artists. Each brings a different tone and a different feeling to the song. (Emelia Jones' rendition from the movie is my favorite). 

What is it about, really? Is it about point of view? Loss of innocence? Growing up? Growing old? Or is it that as we grow and change and even become jaded, part of us still sees the fantasy? Even as we learn that love and life can be hard, part of us wants to remember and feel the magic, and maybe we can. It reminds me of a poem that I read when I was much younger. I don't remember the whole thing, but it was from the point of view of an old woman, who says something along the lines of, "I'm still the young girl who loves horses and flowers." We carry all of our past selves with us. 

So why am I feeling such a connection to this song and this idea now?  Listening to it on repeat like a lovesick teenager, I feel at once happy, wistful, and sad. I think back to my childhood and my kids' childhood, surrounded by the rose-colored light of nostalgia. Am I having some sort of 50 year-old midlife crisis? Maybe. Or maybe the combination of the girls growing up, trying to work my way back into my career, and living in a troubled, complicated world in the middle of a global pandemic are working together to create their own crisis. Either way, it feels like who I am in the world is changing again, and it has left me feeling sensitive. 

As the song says, "...something's lost and something's gained by living every day." We learn, we change, we grow, and that's ok. In the words of Glennon Melton, "Life is Brutiful" It's brutal and beautiful all at once. And in the end, we still won't have figured it all out. Maybe the key is to keep a hold of the magic. 

Both Sides Now

By Joni Mitchell

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
Looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and they snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show
And you leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions that I recall
I really don't know love 
Really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say, "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange
And they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

It's life's illusions that I recall
I really don't know life
I really don't know life at all

Vermont Day 1

Yesterday we drove to Vermont. We had planned to fly to Florida this week, but with the Delta Variant surging, and Florida looking like the Hot Zone, we decided to cancel that trip. Vermont was my consolation prize. Helpful to me, because instead of dwelling on what we wouldn't be doing (beach, pool, parents, Pina coladas) I got to start planning for this mini adventure. With the girls both having just returned from camp and with fall schedules looming, I decided to keep the trip to just 3 nights. To avoid Covid, we decided to stay in a house instead of a hotel like we would usually do.

Since we cancelled Florida, there have been several signs that we did the right thing. First, their covid numbers are out of control. There are also a few named tropical storm type events brewing, so flying home would have been frustrating and scary. And finally, the one thing I didn't plan for was the fact that both girls came home from camp with terrible colds. Maggie's had just about ended by the time Katy came home and started sneezing all over the place (Not Covid - at Katy's camp they tested anyone who got the "camp cold". A local pediatrician said it was the result of taking a hundred kids who hadn't been around germs in 18 months and putting them together). Then Mike got it. So, thank goodness we were not getting on a plane! I can't imagine how stressful it would have been to be worried about catching germs and also fielding dirty looks every time one of my family members coughed or sneezed! 

So, yesterday we packed up the car with much too much stuff, and headed to Vermont. The drive was nice and uneventful. The sullen/sick grumblings stopped almost as soon as we were in the car. We were in road trip mode - something that our family does well. At first the girls were lost to their headphones, but soon Katy asked to play the alphabet game (quite a challenge on Vermont country roads). We chatted, joked, and were happy to be in vacation mode.

As we crossed the border I was flooded with memories of summer weeks that I spent Vermont during high school. GMTI  (Green Mountain Teenage Institute) was a defining part of my teens. The first summer, the we were at a huge retreat center on an idyllic hillside overlooking fields and mountains. The next it was on a college campus, and in between there were trips to Bennington and Burlington, and friends from all over the state. To say that I loved Vermont was an understatement. In my eyes it was a magical place filled with friends, mountains, and Ben and Jerry's ice cream. I LOVED it.Now I'm excited to share that magic with my family.

We arrived at the Airbnb in the evening. It's a large ski house on Killington Mountain. There are a number of beds and rooms to choose from, and a hot tub on the wraparound deck. Being a ski house, it's a bit musty, but comfortable. We ordered dinner and ate on the deck (because of the coughing husband and teen) then spent an hour in the hot tub. Once we came in, I think there was a little bit of a feeling of underwhelm among everyone. As Mike said, "I'm just mad that the world is in a state where this is what we HAD to choose"  instead of being in a hotel or resort -  somewhere more exciting. I don't know. I think we can make this into a real vacation. 

This morning the sun came out. Mike headed out on a short hike up the mountain, then later we'll go and explore Queechee Gorge and Woodstock. I have high hopes. Come on, Vermont! Work your magic!

Picking Blueberries

My husband, an engineer, could have been very happy as a farmer. He loves to be outside, to plant, and to make our yard beautiful. This benefits me in many ways, mainly because I get to enjoy the beautiful yard. I love to watch the hummingbirds (that he feeds), smell the flowers (that he plants), and use the herbs (that he weeds). Sometimes our yard provides a special treat. He has planted apple trees, plum trees, peach trees (I think), strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries. Usually the local deer and rabbits eat almost all of the fruit before we (and by that I mean he) can pick them. 

I am not a yard working person. I have tried. When we first started living together I made what I think was a valiant effort, but I really don't like gardening. It's just not... comfortable. You have to get your body into odd positions to reach, and it's itchy, and prickly, and dirty. Often it's hot... or sometimes cold. It's just not my thing. I'm always a little jealous of people who love gardening and find it relaxing. 

Yesterday as I was walking down to get the mail, I noticed the blueberry bushes on the hill. For some reason, the birds have completely ignored three or four bushes this summer, and they are covered with blueberries, some small and green, but mostly fat purple ones. I was surprised to see them so full, and I thought that someone should pick them. But someone was at work. I ignored them, feeling a little guilty.

Today they were still there, sitting in the sun, looking even plumper and juicier, waiting to be picked. The weather was nice, not too hot and not too cold, and the bushes seemed to be at an easily reachable level (no kneeling in the dirt required), so I grabbed a colander and headed out into the wilds of the front yard. While I picked, I had time to think. A lot of time to think, it turns out. Here's a sample of my inner blueberry picking monologue:

Wow! Look at me! I'm picking blueberries!

Am I really, actually proud of myself for picking blueberries? That's kind of sad.

Holy cow, there are a lot of blueberries here!

Was that a bug on my foot? I think it was a bug.

78, 79, 80... Why am I counting? When did I start counting? Did I even start at zero?

Ugh. That one was sticky. 

At least blueberries don't have thorns. 

I hope blueberry bushes don't have ticks. Ticks just live in the grass, right?

I'll have to do a tick check when I get in.

Man, there are a lot of berries here!

What in the world will we do with all of these berries?

Maybe I should bake something.

Ooh! Scones! I love blueberry scones!

Katy won't be home until Saturday. Nobody else likes scones.

Muffins? 

Muffins are a pain.

That was definitely a bug. 

As long as it's not a tick. 

I really have to do a tick check later.

I don't think I've ever heard of anyone getting ticks blueberry picking, have I?

Maybe I'll make blueberry coffee cake or blueberry buckle?

What the heck is blueberry buckle anyway?

Blueberry buckle, blueberry buckle. 

Would it be weird to bake something just because it's fun to say?

32, 33, 34... I'm counting again! Why am I counting?

This should be zen. Maybe I could get really calm just picking.

Nope. I'm bored. 

There is NO WAY that I am going to pick all these berries!

I should probably leave some for the birds, right?