Sunday dance morning. The back door has stood open so the paint can dry. A fierce sunset yesterday. The rooster across the street expressing himself.

I saw the most remarkable thing this afternoon. My lawn is riddled with moles and mole tunnels. They are impossible to get rid of and so I'm tolerating them until I seriously begin gardening out there. Anyway. I was walking toward the front door and noticed two full grown moles THROWING DOWN.  They were rolling and tumbling and biting each other, flipping the dirt around. They have these flipper front paws? hands? and they're BLIND. I moved one of them to the other side of the yard and they --poof---disappeared into the ground.

They have glossy black fur and stubby tails. They're kinda cute except for the general mayhem and my yard is wee small. I looked up 'getting rid of moles' on Google and one solution involved two shovels and a sledge hammer (ouch). Or mouse traps and salami. Nope, not that one either.

Anyway, sorry Hugo missed all the fun. He's good at rats but moles, not his forte.

It's a regular wild kingdom around here.

I'm way tired but I'm going to dance tonight anyway. We've had 6 babies in the past 7 days, whew. And they didn't all come during the day after a 4 hour labor.

I have new yellow marmoleum floors in my bathroom and in the laundry room. I might get a sink soon in the bathroom---here I do a happy dance while the dawg looks on uncomprehendingly.

There is a finished remodel coming along and it will be done this summer or someone will be severely punished, I don't know who yet but I'll think of someone. Maybe a member of the Bush family because undoubtedly it is their collective fault.

Where I spent the weekend. There are two eagles in the center of the photo sitting together on a post. I'm in bed and because Felix ran around on the beach and in the water all day, he and my room smell like a swamp.

Day two with a family in labor, been quite stressful but not able to discuss it here-privacy reasons and all. Suffice it to say that I've had about 4 hours of sleep and woke up crying. Well, I thought about things and then cried a bit. After talking with both partners, a buddy in Olympia and my doc friend.

Then I wandered around a bit in the remodel, looking at a few painter's holidays in my tee-shirt until Jim showed up.

Jim had seen me at my most attractive-nasty pajamas, wild hair, sleep deprived, just basically gross.

The wrath of god, as my mother would say.

By the way-

Holly and I saw these marvelous people Saturday night:

Hugo has moved on to birds. Well, a bird. I found the head, the legs and the wings and a pile of feathers. I don't like this about katz, that they're such animals. I'd prefer the rodent killings, frankly.

Lola never catches anything. Except for worms. She is a champion worm catcher. Takes a lot of skill, you can be sure.

Two rooms are painted, all the trim is done except for the baseboards. The floor guys will be coming soon to do the bathroom and the laundry room. Today I'm painting the studio and the hallways. I'm pretty good at cutting in if you don't look too close.

Just saw The Salt of The Earth, a docu about French Brazilian Sebastio Salgado, the photographer. Essential. Gorgeous. He spent years photographing wounded areas of the world; Rwanda, the Sudan, the plight of refugees, gold miners in Brazil, firefighters in Kuwait after Hussain lit oil wells on fire. He wearied of all the suffering and destruction and turned to natural landscapes, including his home that had been decimated by drought. They planted thousands of trees and remade a forest filled with birds. Remarkable traveler and artist. Wim Wenders directed.

The UK nears. I think I have all the directions to the various airb&bs. I have a house sitter. The dawg will go to camp with Randy. Lynn is back from her travels and back at work. When I get back, maybe there will be a new house to come back too. All done. No more dust. Painted.

And it will only have been A YEAR since we started this madness. And there will be no next time.

Time to swim and run the canine.

There is evidence that the trim guy was here today. As in trim around the windows and doors and baseboards. There might be floors soon. I gotta paint the bathroom and then figure out the high bits where we'll need scaffolding. Holy shite.

Watched a documentary, actually a 'duckumentary' of a Western Buddhist priest in LA who rescued a baby duck, a flightless duck. She was already a bird person but had never had a duck before. The duck grew up, like babies do and proceeded to poop all over her apartment. And I mean all over. She had towels and plastic everywhere. But she snuggled her duck who was totally imprinted on her. He would lay his head on her shoulder. Her adventure was to find a new home where her duck, Lewie, could live, preferably outside with another duck. Hugh Hefner's mansion grounds houses all kinds of birds and animals but the crested crane had it out for Lewie so no dice. Lewie eventually found his new home with a lady outside LA somewhere who had a lonely Peking duck (and a whole bunch of other birds) who needed a companion.

I must admit, I thought of you, Mary, while I watched Lewie's story. The Buddhist priest had gotten worms for Lewie, which he LOVED but she had a hard time feeding them to him so after he moved out, as they say, she had a container of earthworms that she's now caring for.

All of us were taken out to lunch today to a swanky restaurant by one of our grateful clients. It's only taken about a year to get us all in one room. The food was delicious, we laughed a whole lot and her one year old son was surprisingly patient. We 'caught' both of this mom's babies on their houseboat. She admits that things are getting a bit tight in their living quarters.

There was something so special about a bunch of ladies laughing and telling birth stories in a circle. Feels so ancient, like our ancestors have done for centuries. Passing the wisdom around; discussing circumcision, birth control, sex, baby penises, breastfeeding, birth in all its' variety. heaven only knows what the table next to us thought if they could hear us talking.

It's been a good life. And I'm fortunate to be sitting in that circle still.

My two favorite women

I painted my new bedroom/office/guest room today.

I know. Amazing.

I wash the floors daily because there is so much drywall dust, we know at a glance where the dog/katz/I have been walking.

I might even paint the living room. It's white. The white has gotta go. I'm thinking a warm creamy color.

I'll still put up my photo of Benedict. He's weird-dreamy. I can't explain it.

I'm leaving for Europe in a month. OMG.

I shaved my legs today and put coconut oil on them. When I saw them today, they looked like alien legs. Since I don't have a proper bathroom or a tub or shower, I got out a large bowl with warm water, sat on a chair and soaped up with my foot in the bowl. My legs are very freckly, something I don't remember having but is undoubtedly a consequence of stupid tanning practices from the past. Baby oil anyone? And my skin is wrinkly and saggy because I'm, well, sorta old.

Even so, Patrick at the gym tried to kill me and Luanne, my gym buddy, today. 150 jump ropes, 1000 meters on the rowing machine,  100 sit ups and a bunch of other exercises that left us lying on the floor groaning. I did learn from Luanne that bigger boobs make your stomach look smaller. It's about proportions.

My printer is acting funny, prints half a page and then moves on to the next page. I'm afraid I need a computer geek over here to try and fix it.

I reprinted a wedding ceremony for some friends and got all choked up reading their vows. We're so tender sometimes and weddings are where we can express it. Our best hopes. In spite of the odds.

Beautiful day again for visiting babies and walking in the woods. Sara and I drove to Tacoma last night to dance. It was late. We got stuck in traffic. We found the yoga studio up a flight of stairs, weird little room with too many people and very HOT, one small fan. But we danced and danced. We danced for all the babies we delivered while Lynn was away (14 at least), we danced for the late nights with no sleep, the worry about certain clients, the inevitable losses and sorrows inherent in our work, the beautiful births and sweet tired parents.

Sometimes it just has to come out of the body, the stress and pain and joy and all of it. We who stand beside the great rolling waterfall of life and death, witnessing. Holding and guiding with as much compassion as we have for ourselves and the whole suffering world.

Peace and kindness rain upon us all.

Some day there will a bathtub that I can get into, just stroll into the bathroom and turn on the water and wait a bit and then get in and soak. That sounds so nice.

My daughter called to tell me her cat is dying and needs to be put down. She was weeping and we talked about Little Boy, with his sister, as her first babies. Our animals are especially hard when they are suffering. Of course we worry and fret when our children are hurt or lost or in danger. We do what we can for them. But our dogs and cats are different.

She wondered what to do with Milo, her son. I told her to have him come with her to the appointment. He's had his share of pain already but he's old enough to be open to his beloved animal's death. And Maya can let him see her distress. And they can be comfort for one another.

The great circle of life, as Maude would say.

Meanwhile, I'll be going back tomorrow to North Bend to see the baby living under the shadow of Mount Si in the piney woods. With elk and bunnies.

Tonight Sara and I are going dancing in Tacoma. Music and dancing, the masters of the stars.

The ghosts of spray painting

Today's baby:

Josie AKA 'Pike' with a few of her siblings and her momma, of course. Sweet daytime birth. Complete with elk browsing in the yard. We were WAY out there by Mount Si, down a dead end dirt road. The momma's fourth baby so she knew exactly what to do. Beautiful to watch her move instinctively through her labor and she knew just when to call us. 

In other news, the brawny men put the massively heavy cast iron tub on the curb with a 'free' sign on it and just now two scrawny guys with a ratty pickup truck came and somehow wrangled it into the truck bed. I watched, cringing all the while. I wouldn't offer to help as I was afraid I'm be pinned underneath after they dropped it on me. If you've ever watched piano movers work, you know what thoughts go through your head...

Felix is with Randy overnight at doggie camp. No wonder the house is so quiet. 

The remodel is moving along. It really is. Walls are being primed. By Friday those guys will be done. Then floors! And trim! I'm even cautiously thinking about paint colors. Imagine. 

I'm back after a 14 baby month. It's officially May now and I've caught up on sleep AND Lynn returns next week, thank gawd. I've been sooooo tired, I crawl into bed with my clothes on to wake some time later wondering if it's morning or night. We did have some splendid babies.

Eden came and went. 

I got walls and ceilings:

and the rest of the house is more dirty, dusty, covered with white powder with guys swarming banging and loud music etc. Insulation too.  There is the beginning of a garden. I unfortunately accidentally killed the dogwood with the evil week whacker that tried to take off my leg last year. It wrapped itself around the trunk and stripped off all the bark (sob!) I stood and apologized and it told me it didn't mind. 

Saw Wild Tales last night. It is Argentinean and I laughed so loud my movie companion told me to hush. It's so wrong and brilliant and darkly funny. All worth it for the wedding scene. Please see it and let me know what you think. Not a Hollywood film, that's for sure. 

I bought a huge cat house/tree, carpeted thingy because I'm sick of clumps of hair, cat vomit and detritus that they bring in from outside and leave on the couch. Including this:

I know, it's only the paw. Hugo the beast has dispatched with the rest of the, ahem, body. It was lying neatly on the kitchen floor, not on the couch. I think Hugo wants me to see it and admire his prowess. Which I do, of course. 

I have hoses at my house. I didn't have any spigots so I was hauling water to my garden in a big orange bucket. Hoses are a real luxury. Right now I have gratitude for my life; the sun coming in the back door for free, the animals I live with and quiet, the green trees waving their countless leaves in the green belt. In spite of Baltimore or Nepal or my homeless friends standing by the freeway off ramps or out on I-90 in their tents. 

Listening to 12 Years a Slave. Couldn't see the movie but I can listen to the story in his own words. 

We must be kind to ourselves, to one another. We must. It is the only rule.