How I’m Learning to Discern — and Live with — Some Ugly Truths

Junk mail we can delete. But sometimes the universe makes deliveries we can’t

Jenine Bsharah Baines
Queen’s Children

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My wild man. Copyright by Jenine Bsharah Baines

My partner Gary and I rented our house because of its expansive gardens and sprinkler system.

Our last rental was equally expansive but had no landscaping — a friend deemed it a “moonscape” — and no sprinkler system. Two years later, Project Terraform completed, I’d come to dread summer.

I wish climate change = Los Angeles turning tropical but, alas, the only thing pouring between May and October in Southern California are fireballs from the heavens.

Emails to our landlord, gently suggesting that a great way to reimburse us for increasing his property value would be to install some kind of mechanized watering system, went unanswered. Ergo, last March, Gary and I moved.

Our first full day in our new place, LA shut down; and my daughter Emily gave birth to my first grandchild.

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Jenine Bsharah Baines
Queen’s Children

J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself