ONCE IN A BLUE MOON
It began in 1989. I am sure it was then, because, while I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday, I can remember meaningless dates/time frames. I found a treasure back then that spoke clearly to me, telling me you need to take me home and build a collection around me, so I did. This was over 30 years ago, and I am still collecting. I won’t bore you with the entire collection, but this was the piece that got it all started—the one on the right. You can see the signs of love–and time.
And, as one who is fond of word plays, the “once” printed inside this blue moon, made it speak even louder to me. Just maybe, this is what began my love of word plays.
By definition, a blue moon is the second full moon in a calendar month. Last night—Halloween 2020–featured a blue moon. It was a grand sight. I tried to take a picture as it rose, but my amateur skills, coupled with the amateur camera on my cell phone kept it from capturing its true beauty. Nonetheless, I had to record it from my east porch:
Several skilled photographers in Kansas posted their pictures of the Blue Moon last night, and this one in particular caught my eye–perhaps it is the farm girl in me:
Blue Moon over Jamestown, Kansas last night, about an hour northwest of my home. Special thanks to Tim Grennan
The moon has always had a pull on me. I have reasoned that, if it pulls the tides of the ocean, and I am made mostly of water, then why would it not affect me, too? Perhaps it affects you, too, as you are (hopefully) made mostly of water as well.
Not surprisingly, my favorite libation is Blue Moon beer. Perhaps its flavor is enhanced in my mind because of the name, but it truly satisfies me like no other beer does. Of course, I had to celebrate the blue moon last night with a Blue Moon.
The history of the beer is best summarized on their glass:
The blue moon occurs roughly once every 2.5 years. Therefore, if something happens only once in a blue moon,” well, you get the idea.
Mom knew how much I loved moon-watching. She never let me miss the grandeur of the full moon rising in the trees east of the farmhouse we grew up in. And, as I have written in previous blogs, she loved sunflowers. Given those two facts, I will add that I may, or may not be planning to get a tattoo of a sunflower with a blue moon around it in her honor. I may or may not already have a wheat tattoo in honor of Dad. Just sayin’.
So, here’s the takeaway: drink your Blue Moon, or whatever else makes you feel alive. Watch the full moon, or whatever else in nature pulls you in. If body art is your thing, and you are sure it is indeed you, embellish it with that tattoo you are thinking about. Collect the thing that speaks to you.
Whatever, whenever and however you do any or all of these, savor the moments in which you do them. They are simple acts that we can enjoy with or without the blue moon. But please remember this: you are you—no one else. And, as our mom said, “If it feels good, and it doesn’t break any of the Ten Commandments, do it!” Because you, my friend, are more rare and unique than the blue moon.
Special thanks to my next-door neighbor Angie for this beautiful shot of the blue moon last night