Oranges for my mezcal

I omitted mention of one holiday that was celebrated this week; that would be el Día de Muertos, the Day of the Dead.

As with Samhain, All Saints’ and All Souls’, this holiday connects the living to the dead, honoring those who have preceded us from life, and perhaps reminding us that we shall follow some day. The family and community celebration involves ofrendas—offerings on altars—to the dead, things associated with them specifically, which they will particularly appreciate. There are also skulls—calaveras—made from sugar, food, drink and music for the living. It’s pretty life-affirming, when you get right down to it.

My earworm today honors this tradition, “Calaverita”, by La Santa Cecilia. A calaverita is literally a little skull, but it’s also a poem specifically written to be recited on el Día de Muertos. They’re satirical, which you will grasp from the video. The lyrics to this one speak of lighting a candle in the heart, the dead dancing with the living, not fearing death and oranges for mezcal. Covers all the bases, really.

La Santa Cecilia (named for the patron saint of music) is based in Los Angeles; they play a blend of Latino-influenced pop, jazz and rock styles, even mixing in some klezmer at times.

 

 

Holiday for the times

This time of year, people around the world think about things like the triumph of light over darkness, good over evil, life over death. We just celebrated Halloween on Sunday, which is rooted in the Celtic holiday of Samhain—marking the bringing in of the harvest to sustain people through the shorter days and colder temperatures of winter. Samhain also honors those who have preceded us into death, keeping their memory alive through the generations.

On Monday and Tuesday, Christians marked All Saints Day and All Souls Day, essentially carrying on the Celtic tradition. The wall between this world and the next is more frangible around now, and it’s a time for lighting protective and cleansing bonfires.

One of my favorite holidays starts tonight. That would be Diwali, when Hindus celebrate a number of events where princes of light and good slapped down princes who would envelope the world in darkness and evil. I find it interesting that this whole good/evil thing was not one-and-done; evildoers are always trying it on, so we have to be alert, strong and brave.

One part of the Diwali tradition involves lights—candles, fairy lights, fireworks, the whole spectrum—and I definitely can get behind that.

(Another one is the sharing of sweets, which I also endorse.)

So, tonight—more than other nights—I’ll amass candles on my dinner table and consider how we in these times can turn back the darkness. This year there’s a new addition to my display, because I’ll take all the help I can get in this fight, even if it’s from a squirrel.

 

 

Civic duty

At time of writing, we in the Commonwealth of Virginia are waiting to hear whether the next governor will take us back to the time of cavaliers and cotton fields and make Richmond once again the capital of Confederate ignorance, outrage and terror (theirs; man, these people are terrified of Blacks, women, immigrants, books, Catholics...pretty much everything), or whether we have another shot at the 21^st Century.

I cast my vote about three weeks ago at the Fairfax County north government facility and I did not encounter any christofascist “observers”; I understand they have been out in force for the past few days, trying to intimidate anyone who looks like they wouldn’t vote “right”, if you catch my drift. The battle cry this time around is "parents' rights" instead of "states' rights", but the goal is exactly the same: white supremacy.

(Before the polls opened, I returned a book to the library across the street, and did my civic duty by calling to staff’s attention that someone had taped a Glenn Younkin flyer to the library’s front door. Like anyone using the library is likely to vote for him.)

Anyhow, on my way into the building I took a photo of this notice board.

It’s exactly the sort of thing that drives the Younkin crowd bonkers, and I am totally here for it.

UPDATE: damn.

 

 

Wayfaring strangers

I spent some time last week cleaning out the photos on my laptop, and came across this.

I shot it at the ride-hailing pick-up spot at Dulles on my way back from the RSA Conference last year. Hope both the travelers weathered the pandemic well.

 

 

Gratitude Monday: Five days in October

I had all week off last week, because my company has unlimited PTO and encourages you to take time off. So I took five days even though I had no place to “go” or particular plans. I could just step away and not think about work, because taking time off doesn’t count against a quota.

I clocked between 10k and 13k steps every day except Friday, when it rained pretty much the whole day. I got a lot of household things done. I got my flu shot. I went to Costco and mooched about because I didn’t have to scoot back to work. (Supply chain alert: no unsalted butter—except for Kerrygold—and I’m down to 12 pounds; this is a possible DefCon 2.) I played with my new camera and reveled in the fall colors. I had my yoga lesson in the morning, which is a markedly different experience from my usual end-of-work-day session. I stayed up past my bedtime reading, and I read during the middle of the day.

And I got takeout dinners every night, except for one night when I had dinner with a friend, and one other night when I had kabobs left over from an earlier night. New keeper: the Charcoal Kabob “in the K-mart shopping center” (which it’s still called by the locals, even though the K-mart closed, like, five years ago). Had a very interesting combination of Filipino and Moroccan from another place. And not sure about L’Auberge Chez François; the meal was fine, but I’d expected a bit more than “fine” from all the hype. I might try again, just to confirm. (The other two nights were from old favorites, Café Montmartre and Cooper’s Hawk.)

I am fully aware that being able to take paid time off from work is a luxury that millions of my fellow Americans only dream about (it shouldn’t be, but here we are), and I am profoundly grateful for that. I’m also grateful that I can afford to patronize local restaurants, including extravagant tips. There was a time when I couldn’t, so this is another real luxury. I feel so energized and refreshed—which, I suppose is the whole purpose of “vacation”. So, yay, PTO!