I've now had 3 3/4 dates and I'm going to dinner on her (leased) houseboat on Friday if I don't get called to a birth. I'm still being very quiet about this because, well, just because.

I'm going to walk el parro to the water where we will plunge ourselves in the refreshment as it continues to be tropically hot here in the formerly cool NW.

I also need stuff for Italy. a) a garment for my alter-ego-reverend person and b) a wheelie-backpack thingy I can travel with that will have everything I need-swim suits, sturdy shoes, books and music (not a piano, silly), aforementioned outfit for wedding day and clothes for hanging around cathedrals, public squares, seasides and bistros. And my toothbrush.

Suddenly feeling anxious. Very anxious. Time to exercise and exorcise the demons.

Clark and I saw Book of Mormon yesterday. I think my favorite part is when Jesus calls our self-absorbed 19 year old missionary a dick.

And Jesus has glow sticks in his robes so he shone (shined?) across the stage. I think from now on I'm gonna wear glow sticks in my clothes. So people will finally believe in me. Finally.

Back to the lake with de dawg for a swim.

I'm really going to Italy in about a month.

PS. I went on a DATE two days ago. And that's all I'm gonna say. For now.

Listening to Amy Goodman this morning with news from Gaza and another botched execution in Florida, wanted to pull over and lay my head on the steering wheel and cry.

Instead, I went to clinic, saw a bunch of ladies and babies and my dear fellow workers. Then I ran off to Alki beach and hitched a couple whose babe I caught about 4 years ago. Real informal with gerber daisies and the ferry in the background. They said their vows, his ring was too big and she had tears in her eyes.

Cashews for dinner. Gonna go in the back yard and wait for the dark. The faithful dark.

My dears. I am back from the wilds of the California mountains. I took an old friend who was a mother to my girls when they were young. A lotta driving to get to the lodge on 100 acres, very private with a small lake off the porch. Uh-huh. Sheets on the bed, private bathrooms, a fully equipped kitchen, a long dining table that seats about 50, flat screen TVs, a pool table, air hockey, etc, etc. Diane and I took a day to hike on Lassen, a beautiful park with alpine lakes and numerous peaks.

We cooked huge meals, scolded children, lay in the sun and swam, swam, swam. At night bullfrogs and bats and stars.

Ok, there was the child/adult ratio. 6 adults and 8 kids, two of whom were teenagers who snuck off to neck. And the little guy who is 4 (one of 'my' babies) who needed watching because he couldn't swim. Three 11 year old boys on the cusp of adolescence. By nightfall with dinner prep under way, we had Traci's 'patience juice', vodka with some sort of mixer, whatever the kids didn't devour and ice.

It was HOT AND DRY. Lizards. Vultures. Yellow grass.

Adele ( 15 yo) and I put together the best gawdawful jigsaw puzzle of a goofy dog with two hamsters on his/her head, a chinchilla (?), a scary kitten and two bunnies. A tableau. Oh, and a butterfly. And some daffodils. I want that job. Paint some unlikely scene-snow in the Everglades, an eagle cradling some baby mice and then turn it into a puzzle. Yeah! I promised Adele that next year I would bring something even better for us to work on. One puzzle piece was missing, so terrible. One bunny had no eye. Often the way with opened puzzles. If I can't find all the border pieces, I don't go farther. I have standards.

On the plane home, I was seated in the same row with two unaccompanied minors, ie, two kids about 6-8 years old. We were fine at first. Me with my trash mystery and ipod. The flight attendant gave them snack boxes. Why o why do people think it's ok to give kids sugar and expect them to be quiet? Anyway, then the unraveling began. Food was spilled, drinks (almost) knocked over, hair was pulled, arguments ensued. When the boy began poking his sister with a pencil, I grabbed it away from them and hid it. I was trapped by the window, crap. Kinda the flight from hell.

I wrote an indignant letter to the airlines when I got home. Maybe I'll get some miles or something. I don't usually complain. No really. I don't. I'm usually a good girl, nice and polite.

I slept for 12 hours after I got home. Vacations are exhausting.

In California, y'all. And heading here this morning.

Insomnia

Sheesh. I've slept for about 3 hours and now it's light out. And I don't feel tired. Maybe I've slept enough over the last few days that my body won't mind. Maybe I can sleep a few more hours. Tuesday I leave for California and my plane is at 7:15 AM. My ex and I had totally different ideas about when to arrive at the airport. She was ok with arriving with minutes to spare and I'm happier with plenty of time. There's security to muddle through where I've lost belts and pens and once, a Swiss Army knife, a baby one that was hanging from my key chain. Oh, and a small container of yogurt. And jars of my homemade grape jelly. Getting to the airport late makes me crazy. So this means that I've gotta be up about 5AM, all packed and ready to walk to the light rail with my rolling bag. Which should be comical. The hill I live on is STEEP. I can see myself chasing my bag down the hill, hoping it doesn't charge out into traffic.

It's just this way sometimes. I just don't sleep. Years of broken sleep sitting with women in labor.

But.

Today is dance day. And after dance I go swim and write with Betsy out in the country. Yes, Duvall is the country. The babies are staying put for now. My midwifery partner is freaking out a bit, seeing a storm of babies heading her way as soon as I set foot on the plane.

Eritrean midwife Bekria Tedros on her way to work

Last night I met Bonnie, the intrepid leader of the POC sangha. She's recently back from Spirit Rock where she is in teacher training there. What a delightful funny person. Apparently folks have been telling her I'm the 'good food' person. No pressure of course but every Thursday now I'm thinking about what to cook or bake. I've gotten out the old Moosewood cookbook complete with splatters and a valentine from Eden.

I ended up staying late last night after most everyone else had gone, talking and laughing. Bonnie might even come to a 5 rhythms Sunday with me. 

The morning sun is illuminating the mountains above the tree line. I don't know when my contractor will call. I leave early next week and thought they'd be busy over here while I was gone but not, apparently. Working with my impatience. 

Still no babies. The moon was so round and bright last night. I was sure someone would call in labor but nope. 

Clark, my dear friend and love (if he were 20 years older and a girl...) is hosting his fundamentalist Nebraska parents and they are coming to Sunday dance. Ha! Heaven only knows what they will think of us hippies swirling and twirling for 90 minutes. They believe that Clark will go to hell because he's queer but they love and support him anyway. Er. Hmmm. Will they dance with us? Will they sit in folding chairs and watch? Must be painful to have rigid beliefs about someone you love. 

Another day to move 50 pound cement blocks from the back yard to the parking strip. Then when I'm dripping with sweat, Felix and I head down to the lake and jump in. Making room for a garden. Liberating the dirt. 

I leave for California in a few days. Maya and Tracy, old friends from junior high, cooked up a plan to meet and camp out in the summer every year so now it's an institution. This year we're going to Mt Lassen to stay in someone's vacation home, a client of Maya's who has offered. Sound so grand, no tents or thermarests or cooking over the folding cook stove for us this year. Last year we camped along the Deschutes River where it empties into the Columbia. High winds, strong current (to sweep children away), hot hot sun, a train trestle with hourly trains and coyotes at night kicking up a racket. We were pioneers, adventurers, kid wranglers and lifeguards.

This time I expect we'll be lounging by the pool, sipping martinis and applying sun screen for each other. Not roughing it.

I guess I'll get out to the yard and begin moving more heavy cinderblocks. I think about the person(s) who put them there in the first place. Did they think they were beautiful? Were they holding back the wilderness? Some kind of overkill on the weeds? This is an esthetic I don't understand.

Oh, the split rail fence between me and the greenbelt fell down. Really improves the view. I think I'll just push it over the cliff. It'll end up down there with all the dog bones I throw over. A midden.

I swam in the lake yesterday for the first time this year. It was absolute heaven, the cold and the waves and a view of the the mountain from the water. An eagle flew overhead. The water weeds aren't so high you run into them. That happens in August. Don't be afraid. Just swim out until the water's deeper.

A momma came in this morning in whopping labor. She had recently transferred from an OB who was worried about her size, (she's teeny) and could she do it, could she give birth normally. At nine centimeters, she looked at us and said, 'ha ha, you fuckers!" And she pushed out that 7 pound baby after only an hour.

Women are stronger than mountains.

Bills from April have found me. Shite.

Suddenly, I feel sad. It's hot, the day is over and it's time to walk the dog to his ball-throwing field and feed the katz before they plunder the wildlife.

Well, they'll plunder the wildlife anyway. It's what they do.

Life is so short. We must move slowly.
                                        ~Thai saying.

Feeling this kinda way this morning.

The Church of Otis

It's raining, o delight. The grass is brown and crackly. Still need to walk the Felix. I just now bought new running shoes and insoles. Been having plantar fascia problems and a corn developing on my right toe from too tight shoes? These will fix it.

Shall I expose my brand new shoes to the rain or wear my green rain boots? Green rain boot it is.

Had a barbecue with the neighbors yesterday. I forget that others don't eat like I do. Not to be a snob but Fritos and store dip and scary burgers, um, yikes. They liked my quinoa/chickpea/raw veggie salad-with vegan mayo no less. And fresh dill and lemon juice.

Then there were fireworks and firecrackers when the animals all hid. Felix lay right beside the bed and I turned on the fan to block out the noise. I wonder what New Year's is like around here.

I put the hideous water fountain on Craig's list for free and got 25 calls. My phone rang continuously until I turned off the ringer. Someone even came to my house and left a message on the door. Who knew there was such a demand for an ugly water fountain? My neighbor Carol wanted it so she and Richard came over with a wheelbarrow and hauled it away.

Meanwhile, I'm moving bricks, circular and rectangular pavers and random bamboo from the back yard. Damn that shit's heavy. I put it outside the gate and poof! it's gone the next day. My hood loves to put down concrete whenever they can. Unfortunately, the pavers in the back yard that forms a patio have been cemented in to an underlayment which will need a jackhammer to remove. Fantastic. Maybe when they're pouring the foundation, they can take it out..

I mean, what's wrong with grass and dirt??

Saturday in Bethland. No babies calling, not at the moment. Maybe I'll bake some bread. And maybe I'll wear my new shoes after all.

Where the Felix and I were today before the effing firecrackers scare the bejesus out of all living creatures.

We called these Indian pipes when I was a child. I've never seen them in the NW before. 

Today I got the most amazing package all the way from Germany-with flower seeds and chocolate, and most of all, a postcard with a photo of an Eritrean midwife on a donkey riding to work. Thank you Sabine!!!!

Ta da!

I loves me some remodel. (check back with me in a few months about that)

The Supreme Court sucks.

I'm at a birth with my midwifery partner and both students. And we're being photographed and filmed. All I hope for is that I look beautiful in a grey haired wise kinda way. Not jowly and droopy and old.

Jim and Rob brought over the PLANS yesterday and they are incredible, no really. Windows and a different place for the bathroom and a loft where I can climb up the ladder and see more of the lake and the sky and the mountains and the trees.

Jim will cook up the costs (keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to afford wood and nails and labor and doors and floors) and then the foundation guy will come and pour a foundation and take the pile of junk that's out there to the dump, one dump run of many.
.

This morning there was half a rat on the kitchen floor. The back half. Thanks, Hugo.