Yesterday was Opposite Day

| August 1, 2018 | 5 Replies
Yesterday was Opposite Day

When everything is turned upside down. I arose this Wednesday and thought of Opposite Day. I recollected when my boys were little, they had a children’s book called “Opposite Day,” and I recall it being celebrated every Wednesday. Maybe that was just my family, but it was a fun way to break up the week. They could wear mismatched shoes, clothes inside out, eat breakfast at dinner, and we could say funny things all day, the opposite of what we meant. So, after glancing at the notifications on my phone (always a risk) and seeing more bad news headlines from various publications, I fondly wished it were Opposite Day.

Yesterday was Opposite Day

Gary O’Sena Tomato, one of my favorites

On Opposite Day, you could say: California is not raging in wildfire, migrant children are not being separated from parents (from which they will suffer for a long time – I know, trust me), corporate profits were not more important than people, that our children could look forward to a peaceful world where everyone is treated with respect, and wildlife would not perish, or go extinct from our negligence. The bees wouldn’t die, the Monarchs wouldn’t die, the red wolves wouldn’t die. The oceans wouldn’t die. And my tomato plants would cease to suffer from fungal disease. (Well, that’s asking a lot.) Alas, I went straight to my computer and did a search for Opposite Day. It actually does exist! It’s a holiday that is celebrated on July 31st. I missed it by a day.

Time for Reflection

Before YouTube changed it’s algorithms and we didn’t feel pressured to be shooting, editing and uploading videos non-stop, I took time for reflection. In fact, that’s how this blog started, in 2012. Long before someone came up with vlogging. I am still connected to a few of the bloggers, and they are all still writing, beautifully. Deeply thought out pieces. Especially one young woman I unofficially adopted. (You will meet her in an upcoming video.) Sometimes they are published on Instagram. That seems to be where many are exploring and sharing their thoughts today, and I’m continually impressed by the writing. Some are still publishing a blog. A few have become activists to try and turn the tide on some of the seemingly out-of-control aspects to our lives. But, when I have thoughts to share, as I did on aging in my last piece, they are still going right here. And I hope you find them helpful in some way.

It’s not easy to be cheerful with so much bad news. I think of the dwindling rich, fertile soil on which we depend to hold our plants to maturity, and the wise old farmers who hold the knowledge so needing to be shared today. Who will share it when they are gone? My garden helper, who lives in a small apartment in Los Angeles with a wife and three children, was deeded a two-acre parcel of rich farmland in his home country of El Salvador, but he had to practically give it to the bank because the violent gangs were squatting there.

The bad thing about technology is everyone is glued to it. The good thing about it is an old grandma (with the help of a tech-savvy granddaughter) on a tropical island can share her recipe for cabbage rolls. I actually watched her video, over an hour long, with no English subtitles, because to see her gnarled hands at work, responding instinctually to the knife, the fish, cabbage, the boiling water, fascinated me. I longed for a visit back in time to stand by my grandmothers in the kitchen, or in the garden, and soak up what they knew. “Mother was the one in charge of the garden,” my mother remembered when I was there in June. She was also in charge of the kitchen. My mother was her foot soldier. Her right hand. But, when you are poor, you don’t work hard because it’s a romantic notion, you do it because the family will starve if you don’t grow your food. If you don’t get it in the ground when it should go in, if the rains, and just enough, not too much, come when they need to. So much rides on good weather, whether your back holds out, the price of cotton. For they were sharecroppers who picked cotton for their survival. “Everyone was poor. But, we were poorer than most,” she’s often said. Everyone picked cotton in Alabama back then. In 2013, she returned to the same field as when she grew up, borrowing the old cotton sack from her brother. When it was full, you hauled it to the wagon. Now, the field is no doubt planted in GMO cotton seed.

Yesterday was Opposite Day - mother-cotton

Mother picking cotton in the same field

I could go on. I’ve got a lot on my mind. But, I won’t. I’ve got to plan tomorrow’s Thursday Workday, the accompanying video, and try to find time to edit my travel videos going back to last summer. I hope you will be watching. I’m working hard to bring as many people as I can inspiration, and connection. If you are so inspired, please share. – Kaye

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Category: Community, Environment, Garden Musings

Comments (5)

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  1. Kaye I loved the remembrance of bygone times. Our ancestors did indeed work under different circumstances than we do today, Going back and visiting families in states we no longer live in means so much to me too.
    Opposite Day would be a nice concept in these chaotic times I certainly agree.😊

  2. First off I would like to say superb blog!

    I had a quick question in which I’d like to ask if you
    don’t mind. I was interested to know how you center yourself and clear your
    thoughts prior to writing. I’ve had a tough time clearing my mind in getting my thoughts out.
    I do enjoy writing but it just seems like the first 10 to 15 minutes are
    lost just trying to figure out how to begin. Any recommendations or hints?
    Many thanks!

    • As I am so busy editing videos these days, I only sit down to write a blog when something occurs to me. It’s a title that comes to me from what I’m feeling. They practically write themselves once you have a strong feeling about something. Thanks for reading!

  3. At this time I am going to do my breakfast, after having my breakfast coming yet again to read other news.

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