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A Museletter From Sheree Fitch


When I was five
My father found me crying
“How do I know God is real
If I can’t see God?” 
My father lifted me
From quilts to window ledge
For an answer,
pointed to the stars.

The sun, the moon, the stars, the sky. You could say I’ve lived my life with my head in the clouds. Actually, some have said that, rolling their eyes. Why not get a real job?  What writer has not heard that -to their face- or behind their back?

I admit I have a reliable migratory route to the moon and back.  Luckily, there’s always laundry to do.  I also dig in dirt and live amongst trees.  Walk by the ocean. Still, because the earth and creatures on it can be much too much … to outer space I go! In wonder. Awwwwww before the Mystery. 

If not Lotta, (see last musing)
Adrienne Clarkson
or Adrienne Clarkson (more on her in another musing)
Carol Burnett
or Carol Burnett (I almost have the yodel down)
Vera Rubin
BUT Oh….to have been…. an astronomer! 
Vera Rubin.
I hope you have heard of her. I am smitten. She showed up, much like Lotta did, a while ago, in the WWIP. Weird work in progress.


Here is a succinct animation about Vera. 

So, to this week’s excerpt. To set this up : Protagonist Olivia ( me not me) is a retired children’s storyteller named Serendippity  ( two p’s)  who dresses up like Mary Poppins and pulls stories out of her carpet bag. Here she is reflecting; going on about an incident where Vera Rubin bailed her out of a tricky question:

Once, when I was still in my twenties, in a question and answer session, a boy with eyes like melting chocolate chips; I remember that sweet sweet face, those eyelashes, I do; well, in any event, that  brown-eyed child raised his hand and said, Serendippity, are you a real woman or a little lady? There was a pause. A real woman or a little lady ?  I repeated. Maybe it was the puzzled look on my face, but the teachers and the rest of the students erupted in hiccups of embarrassed giggles that soon grew to snorts of laughter.  We were in a gym. The waves of laughter rippled, seemed endless, echoing and bouncing and squealing; we were in the midst of a phantom basketball game ; louder and louder. Too loud. The boy ‘s face flushed; the tips of his ears turned orange and I could feel his trembling as his eyes widened in alarm, shining brown as they puddled up with tears. So I stared only at him and in that split second we knew we heard what we heard together at the same time and the seed of knowing suspended us and we saw as in s-a-w each other’s soul. I know you know what I mean, right?  Right? Unless you are a sociopath, I suppose. So it was a zap kinda shake your head like you’ve got water in your ear kind of moment.  A current of sparkly light lasered between us and we knew, we just knew all would be swell and all would be swell and all manner of things would be swell.  And we also knew we belonged in the same pod of freaks. Both of us. We just didn’t have words for who were were yet.

Are you a real boy or an old man I wanted to ask but I could not because the students started chanting : real woman little lady real woman little lady.  The boy and I endured these taunts in front of the whole school a few seconds more, then we nodded as if on cue and I envisioned shooting out from our eyes a batallion of protective particles in our own little sparkly energy light brigade.

The principal stopped laughing stood and did the universal clap clap clap-clap-clap signal for silence  and they all stopped and clap clap clapclapclapped right back. The brown-eyed boy and I smiled in satisfaction. We had just discovered we had powers that the rest of them just did not know about yet and maybe never would, ; but we had powers together and knew we were here, this time, for  harnessing the magic. Who knew?  We might even alter the course of the future; before it was too late. So I answered him. With a story:
A little lady or a real woman? That is the very best question EVERRRR, I said , then waited for the beautiful silence of anticipation.  Let me answer your question with a sketch of a hero of mine, I said.  So once, not so very long ago or far way from now…

I told them about one of my superheroes: American astronomer Vera Rubin, trailblazer, scientist, discoverer.  I mentioned how Vera Rubin had loved stars and I did too. I thought of Sam -man my childhood friend who grew up to be a Ufologist. I tried but failed to explain dark matter. I finally said you better ask your teacher and made them laugh. Just by saying I don’t know, go ask the teacher! I ended my story saying ‘Vera Rubin inspires me every day, because of what she did, yes but she was mother to five children as well!  Parenthood: The toughest challenge, in my  not so humble opinion. Can you imagine, I said, looking at the teachers, and we think we’re busy. HA! More than anything it was something Vera Rubin said that answers your question best, I think. Vera Rubin said and I quote Each one of you can change the world, for you are made of star stuff, and you are connected to the universe.

Isn’t that absolutely the best?  They all nodded.

So. I am not a real woman or a little lady. I am star stuff. I am connected to the universe. I can change the world.  So can you, I said.  And you, I said.  Can we all say it together? They nodded. Okay. Let’s Stand up. Put up your hands in a V.  They did. And we began :We are star-stuff We are connected to the universe. We can change the world.

And we’ve got to get back to the garden!  I said.  But no one ever knew what I meant. Then I told
them to sit back down and told them about…..


Well… maybe the book will be out one day.

Serendippity ‘s intention is to empower those who might listen. Spoiler alert:  She is accused of wanting to start some kind of cult. It gets messy before it gets better. It is funny. Then again humour, unlike facts, scientific or otherwise, is extremely subjective. Oh, to have been a female George Carlin, potty mouth and all. 

What is Fact? What is opinion? Who gets to tell the story?

These days ,here on earth, who knows? Why I lift my eyes to the heavens.
Seriously, what really prompted today’s musing is this current event:  

“Construction of the world’s largest radio astronomy observatory, the Square Kilometre Array, has officially begun in Australia after three decades in development.

A huge intergovernmental effort, the SKA has been hailed as one of the biggest scientific projects of this century. It will enable scientists to look back to early in the history of the universe when the first stars and galaxies were formed. It will also be used to investigate dark energy and why the universe is expanding, and to potentially search for extraterrestrial life.” – from the Guardian 

This blows me away and up up up to the moon.
Did you catch this bit of news? I hope so!  Vera’s star shines bright. 
Vera Rubin. Star Stuff.
We are star stuff. 
One my favourite poems by Fred Cogswell.

Star–People by Fred Cogswell
In all shapes and sizes do they walk the earth
As men and women wherever men and women are;
How can we know them? How can we tell
Beneath what skin unfolds the petal of a star?
They eat and drink and love and hate like men.
Like men they’re prone to colds and shirk their tasks.
So well they ape the human-robots in their moves
That they at times forget they’re wearing masks.
But when they meet another of their kind,
Underneath the current of their usual words
There chimes, inaudible to human ears,
Bell-music like the cries of mating birds.
And when they touch the other’s hands or eyes
Such joys along their nerve-ways race
They scarce can bear to smile and make small-talk
As though no miracle were taking place.

There are small miracles of kinship.

Of recognizing when you’ve found a friend in whatever pod of freaks you find yourself in. That is not an insult. We are star stuff. We are majorly weird and freak -wently wonderful. Well, okay no we , but I. I can only speak for myself. I am pretty sure I am not alone. Or am I? (:
 Vera -ily I say unto you, stars aside, I love the world down here, zoo that it is, in all its messupedness.

All I can do is be myself: which is waaaay harder than it sounds.  
I just turned 66 on Saturday. I think I’m just getting started.
Sheree Fitch

We don’t have to be trail blazers or star gazers. Just ourselves.

“We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness — and call it love — true love.”

― Robert Fulghum, True Love

Love love love

Today's music: Woodstock by Joni Mitchell.
Sheree Fitch
Copyright © 2022 Sheree Fitch, All rights reserved.

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