(Money) Affairs

Preface

Unlike what I was expecting, my previous post, posted via PeakD, is not available on Steemit; Hive really is something different. Not like the Creative Coin club I once joined. I am treading water in between here there and nowhere special for the sake of marking this transitory phase that has so many images attached to it, we are spoilt for choice on which ones to concentrate for the development of our inner self.

Continuing with my description of how ladies over 50 can get through the C-19 Crisis in a dignified fashion as follows:

Never have there been this many dogs walked at noon, before. I too extract myself from my isolation and hop on a bike. I pedal to recycle my mindfulness. A mind fully alert, always something in there rumbling (fortunately, I am not always in my mind, or at least not in that right mind where thoughts are cooked up).

Mindfully pedalling

I wonder how people run their affairs these days. Literally. How to cheat on your partner now, with no space to get a message in or out, let alone to sneak around and have your trysts?

And who’s able to rebuild their home in Australia? What about all those people who only just before the outbreak of Corona saw their world turn to charcoal about them? Any sprigs of green in their life already?

And are the gay’s upset yet, reminding us nobody cared this much about prevention campaigns and acquiring a cure when Aids was an epidemic?

And will they please stop renting out guinea-pigs for company (the latest initiative around here)! As a fond subsciber of the Guinea-Pig Journal I feel they are not the type to volunteer as rent-pigs. [However, one might find a more positive side to renting GPs here.]

What's the deal with renting them anyway? Who is going to bring them back after LockDown is over? What brutal parent can do that? Or perhaps, the rental service is hoping the children won't let them bring them back and then they can turn the rental contract into a purchase at, say - why not if you love them that much - $400 per rodent, perhaps? Furthermore, how can these new pet-owners afford the additional expenses at this time? I suppose they'll have to buy the cage now, too ($200?) and a supply of hay, delivered ($50 a bale, why not?) and extra bags of vegetables, but will they be fresh enough with the limited delivery slots still available.... And all this times two, especially in Switzerland where it is illegal to keep only one....

Illegal Practices

What will be outlawed next? Another thing to ponder. My companion reminds me it can get crazier than I might realise. In Minnesota, some years ago, he knew a carwash that was shut down for using collected rain water. You thought the rain was free? You thought recycling was a cool initiative? Think again: the rain belongs to the state, it is prohibited to steal it. I decide to grow some ivy over my large garden water barrel: you just don't know how American we Europeans are going to get when we wake up to the chaos that will ensue soon.

Unmundane

My companion is not so sure, altogether, that I am prepared for the mayhem in the offing. He seems to be endeared by how little "mundane" I am. Is he not being terribly condescending, I am apt to rebutt. But I shut up. Men rule the world, I cannot deny that. They own me. They buy us women one way or another, until we sacrifice our womanhood to act like men and believe in money, to love or hate it, but we will believe that it rules everything.

I find myself peeved. Surely I am too old to find myself misunderstood? It is rather, however, that I am dismayed that I appear so little grounded. Who makes dinner, the bed, the plans of the day? All matters of the body and the physical world, surely? Who nurses and hoovers and reminds one of the art it takes not to take life too seriously? Surely, the things that make life liveable? Is my reality not real? What makes it so unreal? Why do men think that only the Economy is real, only money is real? Why do they think in terms of food always: no money, no food, starvation is the sequence of events they afear the most. It's not the fear of death that hounds them but the fear of pain (and hunger qulaifies as pain). Women, of course, cannot cajole themselves into believing money may offer a pain-free life.

The Pennywise-Poundfoolish Stereotypical Woman?

What is it to not be mundane, in and of this world, down to earth, planted in reality? How so do I not know how the world works? Why must I live in the world of suffering, when I can be in the one of birdsong or chocolate or fresh linen and a good book? Because tomorrow, I will have finished my book? Have no silver with which to buy a new bar of cocoa solids? The water will be turned off by one fascist regime or the next?

Also the Economy, my friends, is but a picture of who we are not yet. Economia the sister of Sophia, is one big board game, of dramatic proportions and gruesome consequences, but it is just a sign that we have not evolved our spiritual organs yet. Nothing more. No less real, but not the only reality.

^{Is this woman mundane or not? Clue: she is wearing a blue scarf. ON her head (not around her neck). Plus she is VERY wrinkly. Clearly not quite with the modern ways of the world then.}