7/30/23

 Sunday, July 30, 2023

 In bed around 10, awake at 5:32 up at 5:42, one snifter.  63℉, high 75℉, mostly sunny day ahead,  AQI=20, wind N at 7, 3-8/14 mph, dps 58-62,  The sun rose at 5:39 at 63 degrees E and will set at 8:15, 14+36.    

Half a poem, remembered on the patio.

God's Grandeur 

BY GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.  

Country roads, interrrupted.  It's a gorgeous day today, warm but not hot, low humidity, the sky full of floating, billowing clouds, a perfect day for a ride in the country, enjoying barns, silos, sheds, farmhouses, and fields of corn, wheat, oats, soybeans, alfalfa, whatever.  So I took off around 12:30 intending to head out to Holy Hill, Heiliger Huegel, and to wander about Washington County, perhaps the scenic Town of Erin.  On my way west on Donges Bay and Mequon Roads, I got distracted and thought I could find the Rustic Road with all the horse estates on it.  I mistakenly thought it was on Highland Road but it was Hawthorne Road I was looking for so I ended up driving mainly through suburban/exurban Mequon with some, but precious few, barns, silos, etc  In any event, I thought again as I passed one high-end subdivision after another, one palatial manse after another, how unrealistic it is to think that people living in circumstances like these would identify with and vote with the Democratic Party which is now so identified with racial minorities, especially Blacks, higher taxes, and social welfare programs.  So many thoughts race through my brain when I drive through these venues, thinking back to our basement apartment on Emerald Avenue in Englewood, Vietnam & Okinawa, the neighborhoods served by the House of Peace, the prisoners encountered at Janine's restorative justice gatherings at the Green Bay prison.  I also thought of a metaphor I read just this morning, a writer saying he wondered whose shoes he was wearing when he felt out of place among some 'swells.'  The thoughts were all disquieting, reminding me as usual what a limousine liberal I am, about to turn 82 and still wondering whose shoes I have on.

Genuine Chicago street sign given to me by Steve K.

Dinner with the Lowes at the Goldbergs tonight.