RIP Mr. Hawking

What a totally shitty way to start my day. News of Stephen Hawking’s death caught me by surprise. I’m proud of the tears that flowed for so long.

I remember how devastated I was when Terry Fox died; Gilda Radner’s death just gutted me when I heard that news, too, as did Princess Diana’s. It’s odd, surprising and wonderful to find `out how much you can care about someone you don’t know.

I feel flat over the news.

Everyone makes such a fuss about Neil deGrasse Tyson and Bill Nye. They explain other people’s ideas to the masses and that is a truly wonderful thing. They, like astronauts, are the populist knowledgeable faces of science; they are the public’s go to team of science explainers. But Stephen Hawking created new knowledge. He was the real thing.

And then there’s that body. His triumph over his disease is as impressive as his triumph over mystery. The man is a force of nature… was a force of nature.

I watched Icarus last night. It’s the Oscar-winning documentary about cheating (doping) in the Olympics. It is soul destroying to watch; it shines a bright light on institutionalized national dishonesty — a movement for which Trump is a poster boy. To lose a genuine truth-teller and a mind you trust without any reservation, like Stephen Hawking’s, is a tragedy during times like these.

He’s a poster boy for original thought, determination and supremacy. Not since the passing of Oliver Sacks have I felt so low about someone I don’t know (but admire immensely). The news has truly ruined me. Sheba’s shoulders are wet with my tears.

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I go to see my new doctor for the first time today. Dr. Shoja has asked him to consult with me about of my falls of late. I’m going to have my hands X-rayed to see if any of my aches and pains are arthritis. Then I go back for balance assessment. I sense, from what he said, he’ll be prescribing exercise classes.

Now I’m back and I hope to get the new large planter filled with soil and some Edgeworthia installed and, while its showery, I want to fertilize my yard to see what happens.

I love my yard. It’s verdant and delicate. Sheba is ruining the delicate matt woven of mosses, delicate tiny-leaved mini plants, and wild thin vines that grows in/on a bed of decaying needles and twigs that covers pure sandstone. I love it; I don’t want to lay down top oil and change it to lawn. I think that would be a travesty. Instead, I’d like to encourage what is there naturally with a mild fertilizer. And in one area I want to spread some creeping Thyme seedlings to see if they will take.

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I love these days without Darrell or guests; I love being able to do completely as I please and to not feel the need to keep the place tidy. Today is grey and it’s supposed to rain later, so I’ll chill with Her Highness a lot of the day. Tomorrow and Friday are supposed to be sunny and warm. I can hardly wait.