It's hotter than holy Hades right now and I don't have to like it. I danced with my lovely people this morning and a bunch of us went to brunch after and acted all gay because it's pride weekend here and there were homosexuals everywhere. I met Sam's husband and I approve.

It's so hot I even drank a beer, something I usually never do.

I fear the second floor of the house. It's probably twenty thousand seventy degrees up there.

I do not like this sort of heat. I figured out that I enjoy the winter cold/damp/gloom because it fits my personality. Not this blast furnace sort of thing. There are fans in every window and tonight we went to Ross Dress For Less just to be in an airconditioned building.

But it  ain't Arizona. Those poor things.

Tonight I got a call from a mom whose water broke. She sounded a bit breathless on the phone. An hour later her husband called and said she was saying, "something's coming out". I told them to hustle to the birth center and I'd meet them there. They arrived, she plopped down on the bed, made pushing noises and I saw about a 4 inch circle of head. I asked for a glove and she had a baby about 4 minutes later.

Whew.

She said the car ride was a bit uncomfortable. No kidding.

Lord, give me strength

I once said to Hazel who was about three, "Hazel, I love you." And she said in a weary tone, "I know, I'm adorable."

Eden came home from her co-op preschool to tell me there was a new kid in her class. She said, "She's six but she's a young six."

Today I leave Aldermarsh, a retreat center on Whidbey Island. I've been dancing for 4 days under the sun and moon and rain. I've done the anger dance and the grief dance and the fear dance. I've also danced with great joy. I amy be old and creaky with sore knees and stiff hips but I can still get up, throw my arms around and shout.

Meanwhile there has been delicious food and a hot tub and the best company of others: massage therapists and psychologists and gardeners and painters and poets.

This morning the swallows are swinging over the near fields by the vegetable gardens and the flickers and robins are singing. The moon was huge and bright last night so that I had to get up and go out under it.

Sam and I head back this afternoon and then it's back to work and call and the chickens and the silly dog and domestic life.

May I take this beautiful place with me. Until next time.

The end of the weekend. Another wee babe in the world, just a half a block away. I walked to their home visit this morning. Her name is Una and her parents are in love with her.

My student called after the birth to say that their birth was a 'fairy tale'. They walked into the birth center holding a rose.  The momma was surrendered and floaty, so beautiful.  And she stayed that way, more and more as she got closer to pushing. They had halos around them.

They did. And I got to see their halos.

Then the momma was standing in the big tub washing off after the birth and we were helping her.The dad was holding his new daughter in his arms and she was reaching out her hands to him. The momma saw this, we all saw this and the momma'a eyes filled with tears as she looked at her man and her baby.

It felt like we shouldn't be there because it was so intimate and loving and for them forever. But we were and we cried a little too.

I'm sure today that the work I do is holy. As hard as it is. As tired as I get. As crazy as it makes me. It's holy and I'm a lucky woman on this earth.

I've been remiss.
Today I walked 7 miles with the dog, I cleaned the house, I watered the garden (and ate a few strawberries), I washed the dog, I bought a new GPS to replace the one that was stolen, I talked to a few mommas with problems and one who might be in labor, I dropped off some recycling, and I went to Costco.

Costco is another planet where giant bundles of toilet paper live, giant safflower oil jugs, monstrous numbers of pens and paper, massive pieces of fish and cheese and wine in boxes. Now they're selling hard liquor and I stood before the vodka and whiskey and gin with my mouth open. I don't buy the hard stuff. Except for Scotch. I have a bulging cabinet of alcohol. I could make my way through it and become exceedingly drunk. I'd probably have to lie on the floor for a while.

Next week I'm going on a dance retreat on Whidbey Island. For four days. Did I say I cleaned the house. Well, I did.

I feel virtuous. In my clean house. With my clean dog. He had a bath too. Now I'm watching a Benedick Cumberbach movie that's pretty terrible. Even for him, I might have to turn it off.

I thought I would spend the day on the grass in the yard as you see above.

The dog is being very patient. He expects a marathon walk and it is coming. I just need to read a bit more. I just downloaded

a most remarkable book about parents and children who are 'different'; queer, autistic, dwarves, disabled, etc. Beautiful writing. 

split the branch here
leave a purple mark for the razor to find
those subdivisions
cell membrane furls   unfurls

 a white island in a rainy galaxy
we knew it would be bigger
once we opened you up

sentinels slide
flocculent nodes slumber
removal is why we're here today

witness your modern sickness

Back from San Fran where I danced and went swimming and watched my daughter dance in the atrium of the Museum of Modern Art in downtown SF.

Now I'm bedded down in a house out in the country with a view of Mt Rainier enough to knock your socks off, waiting for a baby.

We gave the mom a castor oil concoction which will hopefully work to nudge the baby to come out. I thought about going home and coming back, but what the heck. We're here, we have snacks and the dad built us a fire and gave us blankets to sleep under.

Come on, baby, it's fine out here.

I only wish I could take my effing bra off. Undergarments, the curse of all womankind.