Sunday, October 09, 2011

it's all impermanence-or whatever

Dear Readers-I've returned from my California adventures. My LA daughter lives in a hobbit house behind a real house. I will need pictures of the passionflowers that drip down over her doorway when I figure out my new computer. She has a garden and a leetle building where her bathroom and washer/dryer are. And she has plants and cacti and a fire pit and a clothes line. I loved being there. And she'a a lover of fine food so we ate all kinds of different food, Persian and Korean and Central American. She's becoming a chef, food inventor with her lust for new and interesting and delicious.

Then to the Bay area with daughter the other and we saw the Picasso exhibit at the new DeYoung, truly a gorgeous museum. We also walked around Haight street and tried on boots. Lovely buttery boots that made us feel sexy and invincible.

The retreat was again in the glorious Spirit Rock with heated floors and California groovy food and wild turkeys and deer and frogs and turkey vultures. Silence.

In the airport, we found out that while we were gone, our house had been broken into. And my laptop was stolen. Crap. When they tell you to back up your work, they mean, back up your work, dummy.

So I' ve been in serious grief since Sunday. I don't even know what was lost yet. I guess the only fortunate thing is that I've downloaded most all of my poetry. But. Crap.

Javier Sicilia, a Mexican poet, has been traveling Mexico with the Caravan for Peace With Justice and Dignity after his son was killed by a drug cartel. He stopped writing poetry in protest. And he's moving people all over the country. Bless him.

I'll survive the loss of my computer. What I was most concerned about when I heard something had happened at home was that a kat had been injured... And my computer was seven years old. Maybe some child is using it for school and it's not in a pawn shop somewhere.

By the way, while on retreat, I saw a stag there for the first time. I always see the does and fawns, by now they are yearlings. But I saw a buck, twice. The first time he was coming out of the mist-like a magic dreamy deer. The second time, he was standing on the hillside right beside the door of the zendo. I've decided to grow a pair of antlers and get sticks and twigs in my fur. And be wild.

5 comments:

Jaye Ramsey Sutter said...

How is your cat, Kat? We had a Katt. She was huge and fierce.

Someone broke into a house in Houston and injured a little dog. If they catch that person, the jury will be much more concerned about the dog. And the sentence will show it.

I hope Kat is safe. This theft is very frightening. In a way it was best that you were not there when this happened.

beth coyote said...

All the katz are safe, Lola, Hugo Dolores, and Lupine. Thanks for the concern. And if I had been here, I would have come roaring down the stairs and scared the bejeezus out of them. Then I would have told their mothers.

Radish King said...

Oh damndamndamn Beth, I am so sorry for the invasive icky awful feeling of having your house robbed. and your poems! that makes me sick feel literally sick i am so so sorry.

on the other hand you got to see your daughter she of the many skills and you got to be quiet and then come home. damn.

computers. how tangled up we are in them. mine wouldn't turn on the other day and I about lost it.

xo

beth coyote said...

Thanks, R. In front of my new computer-well, I'm speechless, or flummoxed because it's so fancy and if I touch it in the old way, it shimmies and shivers and does weird things.

All well however in poetry land. I have mountainous piles of writing all over, the old fashioned way.

XXX B

PS except for fragments which, I'm sure, are brilliant.

ajax said...

Oh wow. I've been bopping around your beautiful blog here finding all sorts of common threads and shared loves and sentiments. My aunt works at spirit rock. Small world we live.