Life goes on


Yeah, if it’s not one thing, it’s another. I think Buddha was right about that whole suffering thing.

Today’s new drama: new construction in the lot above my cute, formerly very private, little cottage. I knew the lot had been purchased a while back, and I knew that they had started developing it, but stopped, probably because the developer ran out of money. With the market the way it is, I figured it was going to sit empty for a very long time. No such luck.

The back property line for my little house is maybe a mere yard away from the back of the house. If they wanted to, they could build almost right on top of this place. So, far it appears they are only clearing the upper part of the lot(s). So far. Developers love me. This is the second place in a row where I have lived next to some open space, and shortly after I move in, it becomes developed. Great. I’m hoping they are putting in a big trophy house, or condos. Please, not apartments. Developers who are desperate to start recouping their investments don’t tend to make the best choices in tenants.



On Thursday night, a half dozen of my Buddha buds came over for Nomie’s powa and burial. It was really lovely. One of the traits that usually drive me nuts about these folks – their tendency to swarm and get very anal about the proper puja preparations – was welcomed. I had no idea what to do. But, all the obscure preparations were done properly, the shrine looked beautiful, and no one seemed to mind that I was a stinky, sweaty, emotional mess. The ritual itself was beautiful. And made more beautiful by the quiet presence of Nomie’s cat brother, Alaska. Alaska sat quietly on the couch, with his paws folded in and his eyes half closed – the feline meditation posture. In the powa we invoke the Buddha of Compassion, Avalokiteshvara. There he was, sitting on the couch, white in color with four limbs, radiating love and peace.

We then made our way through the jungle-like front yard where the boyfriend had dug a grave for Nomie. Knee deep in mushy pear droppings, I read her eulogy and we said our final good bye.

Even though my comfy chair in the sun-room is one of my favorite places, I can’t go there yet. That is where she spent the last few weeks, where she died in my arms, and where she laid in state.

Damn, I miss her.


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