Big Bear Retreat Center

Taking a wee nap before I make soup for dinner. 

Dears-up in the mountains on retreat but this time cooking with Jessica. Whew, hard work. Getting here was a major ordeal but after surviving SFO the day after Xmas, I feel pretty invincible. It was jammed with travelers of all kinds all pushing and shoving. I breezed though security because no one was paying any attention. Those poor workers were not getting paychecks anyway.

There was one woman who was directing traffic and she was so cheerful and friendly. In a sea of misery, she shone like a light house.

I lugged a quan yin and a heavy bell to the retreat center. And they stay here. (hooray!) I don't have to break myself getting them back to Seattle.

This coming year I'm gonna get a physical, a nutritional assessment for old people and think about a knee replacement (ug). That one I'll have to schedule and figure out who can help me for a few days afterwards.

But what about old people and food? Supplements? I've got some problems with dairy now :-( and i've pretty much gone vegan again but I wonder about protein.

Jeez this is a boring post.

One thing about Uber. I missed the airporter in San Rafael ( a very nice bus that costs $20 and gets you to the airport in an hour. I got up at 5:15, hustled to the station and effing missed the bus. I called Uber and waited...and waited and finally canceled. And if you don't cancel within 5 minutes they charge you ($71!!).. Then I called for a regular cab and that puppy was over $100 !!!! Grrrrr.

But

It was worth it because my driver was nuts. He asked it I could see the chemtrails and when I said I could, he launched into a 'theory' of GO engineers (?) who are manipulating the weather by putting something in jet fuel that then creates the chem trails. Wow. I actually tried to talk to him reasonably, obviously a mistake because he claims that scientists are getting rich (?) on the whole global warming situation. Which isn't real, according to him. We're getting colder based on sun activity (????) So ok, I eventually stopped talking and mentioned that the chemtrails were getting pretty as the sun rose. Damn.

Then I called my ex who is a shrink and he mentioned some guy who is claiming all this stuff and it's all on the internet.

BTW, contrails (not chemtrails) are formed when water on the wings of planes enter the atmosphere after freezing on the wings...

But wow.

He did get me to the airport on time. So there's that.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

BY THE NUMBERS

Two hundred ninety million.

That’s how many dollars Monsanto

was ordered to pay the dying man

when the company failed to warn him

about how the poison they made

to kill weeds would also kill him.

Two hundred ninety million.

That’s how many miles

the Voyager 2 moves away

from the earth every year. And though

it was made to do so—to travel

past our sun’s magnetic field—who

could blame it for moving away

from this dying planet at

thirty-four thousand one hundred ninety-one

miles per hour. If that number were dollars

today, it would be equivalent to eight thousand dollars

in 1977 when the Voyager 2 was launched.

And eight thousand, that’s how many sacred

elephants there were on the banks

of the Six Tusker Lake in the Himalaya,

elephants who flew in the air, and sages say

the Buddha himself was once born as son

to the chief of these eight thousand elephants.

Yes, sacred and magical things happen here

on the earth, despite the greed,

despite the poison. I was seven

when the Voyager 2 left, and since then

it’s traveled eighteen and a half billion miles.

If those miles were pounds,

that would equal more than a million

large African elephants, though in all of Africa,

there are only four hundred fifteen thousand

elephants left, down from five million

just a hundred years ago. What I am saying

is that as the Voyager 2 enters interstellar space

things are strange here on Earth, and we seem

hellbent on our own destruction, but I

am so grateful to be here, still. Even as

the Voyager 2 hurtles beyond the heliosphere,

I find myself still falling in love

with the twenty-seven thousand three hundred seventy-five

days I have to live,

and the earth’s twelve thousand

species of grass, and the five thousand stars

visible to the naked eye and the two hundred six

bones in the body, all of them working to help

us run toward beauty, yes, grateful

for two hands to hold one beloved face

and, amidst all this enormity, the absolute absence

of sufficient words to say how holy, how incalculable is love,

and how marvelous, really, to stare up

into the familiar night sky and imagine

all boundaries we’re just beginning to cross.

Got light, got dark, got light again

We of the NW climes will be sitting in our homes and the hand of de lawd will darken the skies in the middle of the day and it may feel like the end is nigh. Then the rain comes, then the sun may or may not come out again. Then after all that excitement, it's four PM and dark for real because we are ALL THE WAY UP HERE in the northern latitudes when darkness is a serious thing.

I read a book review in the NYT today about a girl raised as an evangelical (she got out). She declared that those folks are expecting the END and they're ready with canned soup and bottled water. I don't think that's gonna do the trick.

This is the famous 'poodle stare'. Felix sits and bores thoughts into my frequency. I think the message is something like, "why are we inside look at it we could be out there chasing squirrels, tennis balls, other dogs huh we are missing all the fun being inside with the damn cat etc.'

I am a disappointment to my dog, I can tell you,

Yesterday Felix and I went to Tiger Mountain, about 20 miles outside Seattle for a hike. Homeless encampment #4 was back, at the entrance to the trailhead, just off the freeway. As you can see, it's very cold now.

I stopped in at the admin, a blue tarp shelter with two large kerosene heaters and a few guys hanging out. The cigarette smoke was thick. I gave them a twenty and wished them well.

That's all. I got back in my warm car after we hiked and drove home to my warm house. my big warm house.

People sleeping 'rough'.

Compassion means empathy and concern for the suffering and misfortunes of others. May we all see with our open hearts the suffering and misfortune of others. No judgment. No fear. No pity. Open hearts.

The car repair place just told me I need $2000 worth of repairs. Shite.

The last time this happened, I asked about the used car salesman and bought a newer used car. This time I'm gonna just...do it. Pains me to but cars, like knees, wear out.

Time to get a NYT and walk the dawg. He is ALWAYS cheerful. The nature of dogs confounds me. I guess when your memory is about 3 minutes, you're never troubled about anything.

Happy Sunday.

It was like this

My Salvation Army cape had big pockets inside
I slid steaks, jars of honey, butter into the dark folds
I was so slim with my long hair
As I walked out the door, the purloined food breathed out
so neither of us would get caught

We were sleeping on the floor
the starter was out so
we parked at the top of the hill
ran and pushed to get the car going

Boston was cold that winter
Art school was too expensive but I went anyway
You worked in a camera store
stole cameras
I worked in the health food store
stole bread and grapefruits

We had no idea
we were poor
or desperate
when we fucked
our bones chafed against each other

we paid the rent
rode the trolley
brought home a cat
we were free
no family
no friends
no future we cared about

Every year a retreat center south of here asks for volunteers to deep clean the center; bathrooms, dining hall, bedrooms, the Dharma hall, teachers cottages. And the great outdoors-fallen tree limbs, errant bamboo, etc.

Judith and I went  in spite of a flat tire and a sick kitty. Lola stayed at the vet for 24 hours getting IV fluids and waiting for labs. A bladder infection, as I suspected. For $900!!! Egad.

Then they gave me a wee bottle of antibiotics and say, "Once a day, orally." They don't say, "Ha ha, good luck with that."

Cats are smart. They feel that something terrible is about to go down as you approach them with a towel and a syringe. So they head out to spaces where you are unable to reach them. And you are dragging them out by a leg or the tail and further traumatizing them because they are thinking you're about to kill them or put them back in the cat carrier of death.

When you finally wrap them in a towel, then they throw their head around so you're basically aiming for the mouth/teeth area when it whips by you, getting fish flavored medicine on your shirt and all over their face. Hopefully some of it landed IN their mouth and you're good til tomorrow when it's time to do again. For 10 days.

At least it's not a pill. Pilling a cat is pretty much the worst situation. No cat will stand for it. It is beneath them. It doesn't matter that you've explained that they are ill and will feel much better. They don't give a shit. Giving a cat a pill guarantees that you will be bitten and/or clawed. You will be bloody and your cat will hate you. They give side eye and start growling. Then comes the slashing.

Anyway, the retreat center is sparkling and when I got home with Lola, I found that Felix had torn up the rug that I just bought. He is in the bedroom on an extended time out. As least the rug (screaming deal) was only $100.

Why do we have animals? I know this is a rhetorical question...and by the way, why is there an 'h' in rhetorical? Seems completely whimsical.

Beautiful boy

Dearest Milo

It's your birthday again and you're 16.

Many places on this planet, young men and women are celebrated and welcomed as adults when they turn a certain age. You're not an adult yet but 16 is a milestone. And we don't have any significant ceremony for you. But we adults recognize the turning of the wheel of the year in your young life.

From my heart, I have wishes for your future. Of course, I hope you enjoy health and happiness in the years to come. And that you learn to skillfully navigate disappointments and sorrows for they will surely come as they do in every human life.

Most of all I wish for you to become a kind and compassionate man, a man who knows how to be vulnerable and tender. I wish for you to find love for yourself. I wish for you to be respectful of girls and women, for those less fortunate, for those different from you. As you come into your place in the human community, awakening to your privilege as a white man cannot be denied. I wish for you to use that privilege to move the needle for those who have no voice because they are Brown and Black, because they are immigrants, or Queer, or just down on their luck. When faced with suffering, we can choose to harden our hearts or let our hearts break into action.

Yes, you're still a kid. But your manhood is coming soon. You've had great good fortune to be raised with loving parents. You've not known homelessness, hunger or discrimination. You can choose to make your life one that is full of good works, good deeds. Because you see clearly see the needs and you are compelled to respond.

You and we can't fix the world. But your words and actions have an effect. This is true. There is so much that is ugly, terrible and sad and it will always be so. But there is beauty and compassion everywhere. Choose that. Choose to make use of your life. For justice and love and kindness. Be a mensch, dearest one.

Yours,

Nana

Dear hearts,

And there was rejoicing in the land. Of course the monster-in-chief didn't take it well. To be expected. And then there was Sessions.

I spent a week on the island of Namaimo, BC in silent retreat with my beloved Adrianne. Got back yesterday. Yes, I voted before I left.

It is beautiful there and I walked the perimeter of the lake every day until I sprained my ankle. The sorrow and fear I was feeling was so immense, I had to move my body somehow, let the trees and the sun and the geese and the water restore my mind to some sanity. I truly had a melt down and the sweet Canadians helped to comfort and restore.

Canadians say 'hello' and 'good morning'. A lot. It must be a small town thing. I must have been wished well 100 times. Beautiful.

The ferry ride is 2 hours and I refrained from listening to the election results. I called friends after I crossed the border to give me the broad outline. Which was promising.

Today is a new world. Some checks and balances. We'll see how POTUS responds to being told 'no'. And my Canadian friends can be cautiously optimistic about our impulsive and dangerous 'leader'. So we need to continue to fight for the rights of those who cannot speak for themselves. Those of us with privilege need to use it for good. For the good of all beings, even those we disagree with. And that's hard.

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me. 

Martin Niemöller

Today there was this:

and this:

Lake Annette with Felix and Holly. Beautiful October day. We talked about everything so all is solved. Don't worry everybody. All will be well. We have a plan which involves casting spells and burning sage. 

Tomorrow I go see 

Ha! With Hannah Gadspy!

Perks of living in the city, y'all. 

BTW we hiked over 9 miles, 21,953 steps and 71 "floors". I still have it. Amazing.

A Star is Born----------

My friend and I went to see this movie after the Kavanaugh hearings. We were looking for an escape and the buzz was, well, buzzy. Oscar nominations, best actress, Cooper directed and starred, etc.

Cringy is more like it. Creepy, horrid, depressing, ug.

From the first scene, we see our 'hero' amble off stage, get in his limo and hit the bottle. Ok, he's got stringy hair, a red (alcoholic) face and I'm sure he smells really good. In that alcoholic, sleeping in your clothes, can't remember when you last brushed your teeth, sweetish gin smell the day after kinda way. EEWWW.

He lands in a drag bar where our heroine takes to the stage as the one cis gender straight woman in the place and does a Ma Vie En Rose, alerting Cooper to a nascent budding star.

And they fall in love.

That's where I got lost. Falling in love with an end stage alcoholic isn't falling in love. It's a lot of other things but love?? He's checked out, people!! He can't walk straight or think straight. We never see him vomit but he stumbles, pees himself and can't make it through the day without being hammered.

And then **spoiler alert**he kills himself. Well, he was doing a pretty good job of it with alcohol and drugs (oh yeah, he's popping pills and crushing them up to snort, even getting a bloody nose, very attractive). But no, he also hangs himself.

His blue eyes stay clear and his liver doesn't quit on him so he could turn yellow. So there's that.

But calling this a love story is so far off the mark.

Gaga was great. The woman can act. And I usually loves me some Bradley.

But yuck. And don't get me started on the 'great man' promoting the little lady and then BLAM, stardom. Cuz women can't make in on their own merit, right? At least nobody grabbed her ass.

Ok, that's my rant. Don't see the movie or if you do, be warned. And let me know what you think.

Anger. And fear. There is resistance in us, individually and collectively. I won't wait for the good men to speak out. It's all in the open now. We've been through hard times before.

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

September 30, 2018

“I Want to Burn the Frat House of America to the Ground” by Susan Nguyen

Susan Nguyen

I WANT TO BURN THE FRAT HOUSE OF AMERICA TO THE GROUND

after Jennifer Weiner

Look, America, I have tasted you

before and you taste like beer.

Pabst. Natty Boh. Schlitz.

In a can and warm.

You taste like lemonade powder in vodka,

fire hydrant water collecting in sewers.

America, the beautiful:

don’t you look impossible tonight?

A two-headed coin. You told me

I’m sexy, I’m beautiful, I’m wanted, unwanted, not a 10

but here we are in your bedroom

and I’m a secret. I’m impossible.

Do you know how to be sorry?

I’m a snack, you said, and guess who’s hungry.

America, where are your hands?

You should know: I remember

everything.

You pulled back my elbows

and asked how could anyone

be sure of my face in the dark?

America, you duct taped

my hands to a 40 and said drink

You duct taped my hands to two 40s and took my phone away

You duct taped my two hands and said do something

America, how could you

I want to burn all the frat houses all the America all the ground

I want to America the frat house burning

America, run

America, here is where the burning body turns into ground

America, you could

America, show me

Just back from Big Bear California. 1500 year old juniper tree with a deep cleft burned into her side. Lightening strike, we are told. High up in the mountains, 7000 feet, makes breathing difficult.

Can't watch the aftermath of the hearings. Hoping the vote goes one way, fearing it will go another.

The house is quiet and the leaves are turning on the vine winding up the chimney. Tonight I teach a Dharma and Race class.

May all beings be safe, happy and free from harm.

this morning at first light
you came to me
slid two fingers into me
so that I rose up toward you
your beautiful face
confident that I wanted whatever you offered

I know you're dead
I found your obituary finally
yes
you were born in 1948 in NYC
I didn't know you were living in San Francisco when you died
I would have visited

O I was 17 and away from home
away from my parents
and you chose me
my hair touching my waist
breasts barely there
I was that girl
and you slouched toward me
I thought you were a man
black hair on your chest
black beard
my dorm mate said you looked like Jesus

Marlboros  weed  acid
1967 and we tried all of them

today we made love before I woke up
back then
you saved me
you used condoms
you kept me away from the heroin
you became addicted to
was in treatment for

you were 68 when you died
maybe you got clean
the last time I saw you
you had a gold tooth like a gangster
your music Thelonius, Coltrane, Otis

my love
I have been grieving you for 50 years
your casual disregard
your tenderness
I was the naive girl who adored you
but I was the girl in Florida
the one you chose so you'd have someone to fuck

you had a girl in the City
the real girl
the girl you could be seen with

the roses came with a card
'don't let time kidnap you'

I couldn't keep you
I never had you
the last time I saw you I was pregnant with another man's child
you lay on the bed
but I wouldn't go to you
you had a woman who braided her hair the way you liked it
you were on methadone

maybe you got clean
stopped smoking
moved West

in my dream
you are so beautiful
my young body so eager so willing
I couldn't begin to see the damage ahead

I hope you are at peace
I hope you aren't haunting me
this was never going to be a love story

When I have a birth like this one, I never want to retire. I'm in love with her and her husband and their sweet baby boy.

This is Eden, my glamorous daughter on her way to the Emmys! She and a friend worked on Anthony Bourdain's crew so they were invited. I am, of course, her proud momma. Besides, she's gorgeous.

It rained, thank the lawd. i go out on retreat again in a week. To Big Bear, a few hours outside of LA. Guess it's in the mountains and forests. I'll be gone a week.

I think my sleep is caught up. At my sort of age, sleep is a beautiful and illusive idea. Some nights I lie awake. Other nights I sleep for 10 hours. Random.

It's a new day. I am waiting for the women's spa to open so I can go there and get a Korean scrub and lie around in the hot tubs. With no cell phone.

We had yet another birth yesterday. Was up all night and staggered home at 6 PM to find that my dog guy hadn't come for Felix. He is, um, excitable and he runs pell-mell through the house, scattering rugs and furniture EVERY DAY when I come home. Yesterday, because he'd been inside FOR HOURS, he also managed to knock over an entire gallon of gesso on the floor.

Awesome.

I spend 20 minutes scraping, mopping and wiping up spilled gesso, which got in the cracks of the wood and so forth.

Plus the cat peed on my bed, which went through several layers of bedding and, of course, my comforter. It is a comfort, my comforter, except when it smells like cat pee.

The birth family was beautiful. We had to transfer them because the labor was going on too long and it was safer for them to be in the hospital. They had a lovely baby boy.

Plus, a father from 7 years ago came into the clinic with $600 in cash and wanting us to file a birth certificate for his 7 year old cuz they want to get him a passport. They still owe us money !!!!!!! Jeez.

Mi vida loca.

I have a huge canvas in my studio that needs one more coat of gesso. Today I'm gonna do that, more gesso. Then I will apply paint. Because that's what painters do, they paint. Even if they're tired or grumpy or sad.

And no babies are gonna interrupt. You hear?

Well, it's 4:10 AM. I'm hanging out at the birth center with my student. The mom is being pretty quiet right now. She's not very dilated so I'm thinking we're gonna be here all day (sigh). I'm supposed to host a meditation tonight at my house. We'll see how that goes.

It's been a week for this semi-retired (?) midwife. My crew is either sick or out of town so I've been holding down the fort for about a week. Home visits, clinic visits, this birth and another one a few days ago. I am remembering why I wanted to work less.

There's another midwife here with her client but she's not going very fast either.

This business of waiting on women. I've been doing it for many years. Because it's important that women be given time, attention and love when they're bringing in their babies. And we're here to help out.

Reading about power and the brain. Having power over others actually makes one less empathetic. Interesting, isn't it? Brain chemistry changes in powerful people but with attention, the powerful can learn to be compassionate again if they have lost that ability.

And furthermore. I hate this bra I'm wearing. I hate all bras, actually. I have complained here before about bras but I still hate them. I go around bra-less and that is the natural way, no confinement, no tightness around the chest. Remember bra burning. I was all about it. Of course, back them I had no need for a bra anyway because I was flat chested. That was lovely. And now....

Alright, I'm going to love my body, all of it. I'm 67 and this is what it looks like to be 67, breasts and all. I will not weigh 125 pounds again. As long as I can still walk a fair distance, swim and ride my bike, I'm good. I'm more than good, I'm great.

So that's my ramble. At this hour, I don't have to make sense. Wish this baby and his/her parents well.  Enjoy your sleep.

The beat goes on. Air here is more breathable after the fires from Canada and Eastern Washington. Red sun, red moon.

A little over a year ago, a dear friend and colleague lost her newborn. She has been posting all month to review the final month of her pregnancy, the birth and the death of her daughter. I can barely read it for the pain. And yet I do as do other readers. We are held in a web of suffering and grief with her, the true meaning of karuna, a Pali word that means compassion or to suffer with. In knowing and befriending our own losses, we can then feel into and support the unbearable suffering of another. Trump can't feel sorrow for the the death of McCain because he hasn't swept the pathway to his own sorrow. I know I'm being generous when I would rather trash him, but today, the strength of the planetary suffering is what I'm open to.

These days I feel a split in myself. I go to clinic and see pregnant mothers and meet newborns. I buy veggies and bread. I walk the dog and swim in the lake. I meditate by myself and with my friends. So on one hand, my life is eventful and peaceful. On the other, I obsess about the news, I am in touch with the most dreadful sadness in myself. I feel the trees and plants struggling with the lack of water and the extreme heat. Smoke fills the air and drops ash on my car. I literally have to turn away in order to function, to show up, to stay here in the world of car washes and movies and children and dogs. I feel myself opening and closing, the pain ebbing and flowing. I don't feel futility or hopelessness. I'm just present to the pain. As Ram Das once said, "On one hand, life is beautiful and on the other it's all shit." Holding both views is the practice of equanimity, which I just don't have right now. I vacillate between the two polls with a resulting sense of vertigo.

I continue to turn to concept of 'power over' as opposed to 'power from within'. Racism, misogyny, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, all these hatreds are based in fear and therefore loathing. Even the Earth's body is not exempt. As we continue to polarize, the Earth and her creatures reveal the depth of our delusion about our separateness.

Ruth King, author of "Mindful of Race" reminds us:

Interdependence: This is the practice of remembering that we are part of something larger than our individual selves-a karmic web of humanity-and what we do has impact.

Compassion: The practice of compassion is a weapon of mass healing.

Harmlessness: The practice of nonharming in body, speech and mind is essential for respect and safety.

May we all be held in love and caring today. May we all be free.

Air from fires making a haze. Can't see the lake or the mountains. Just heard from a mom who may be in early labor. Maybe tonight...

Swam in the lake. No one was there. Just me and Felix. I threw the ball forever. Now I think a nap is in order. If I'm gonna be up all night, I better rest now. Next year, I'm cutting back even more on my call days and working even less. I have to. I must. I want to. For the opportunity to stay in my underwear all day or in my bathing suit and a towel.

Even in winter.

Been away from this here too long. A lotta family time and retreats and so forth. Went to Alaska with my brother and sister. They caught halibut, I didn't. And there were NO SALMON because of, you know. Here in Puget Sound an Orca mother has been mourning the death of her calf. The whales need the fish, the bears need the fish...I visited SE Alaska 25 years ago and the fish were so thick in the streams, you could walk across them to the other side.

In California, the fires are out of control. Smoky air here, too thick to stay in Ashland where I had planned to camp.

I am in despair, y'all.

Our beautiful suffering Earth.

It has been blazing hot here. Brown grass and dying trees.

How are all of you?

The babies are still being born.

I made 24 jars of wild blackberry jam in the last few days. My fingers are currently purple. 

Blackberries will make you suffer. Their thorns are wicked. I only shed a little blood this year. I insist on picking berries in short sleeves and flip-flops. 

About to go to BC, Nanaimo to be exact. Gotta take a ferry there and I agreed to pick up two guys to take to the retreat with me. Is it important to be on retreat in these troubled times?? I'm questioning everything. 

If we can't get rid of the awful occupant of the White House, please disable him in November. From our lips to g-d's ear. K? I don't mean put him in a wheelchair or something. Just render him harmless. Foolish destructive horrid man. 

May we find peace and justice for all beings, everywhere. 

 

Martha Washington Park.  Ryan Dela Cruz.

In these dangerous times, I have the most excellent news.

I bought a pair of overalls, yes, denim overalls. I wore them all day today. I think I might wear them every day for the rest of my life. I can spruce them up with jewelry for the many galas I attend, dress down with flip flops and gardening gloves, the possibilities are endless. I thought of you, Mary.

It started with a woman I met in the park where I often run my dog. Her overalls had dirty knees, a look I know well. I asked her where she got her fabulous outfit and she said 'the Gap'. So you know I went home and hit the computer and there they were, Gap overalls.

O joy, O rapture.

If I'm going to weigh, um, what I weigh and have to wear a damn bra, then I'm wearing overalls. All the time.

My olden days overalls had a rainbow embroidered on the front pocket. I just might put one on these overalls.

And I painted my new mailbox:

And got a new tattoo:

And I'm getting another one tomorrow.

Fuck it.

I'm working on my book and I've set up the ginormous canvas in my studio that has been languishing for way too long. Every day I will spend time in artistic reverie and meditation and life giving pursuits.

Take that, bad news.

Yes, we are in a catastrophe of catastrophic proportions. But even the Buddha enjoyed himself. If I'm still catching babies and being a part of that whole amazing process, I might as well sleep on the couch sometimes and stay in my pajamas until 2 PM. (at least the bra situation is handled when wearing pjs.)

And one more thing. I spent 2 HOURS going exactly nowhere this afternoon. I needed to visit two newborns north of my home and before you could say 'Jack Robinson', I was stuck in the most gawdawful traffic jam. When I turned around, I got stuck going that way too. It was so stupid. I am pretty patient but I eventually called the mommas and said, 'uh, see you tomorrow'. Apparently having Amazon headquarters in our town has fucked the traffic to kingdom come. And the Mariners game. And some random highway closure.

I despair of a solution to this mess. My house is peaceful with bird feeders and a view of the lake and mountains so...I'll just stay here.

Finally-my guilty secret. Outlanders!!!! I haven't read the books. I bet they're kinda terrible bodice-ripper things. But the series on HBO, hooboy. My daughter got me hooked. Filmed in Scotland (gorgeous) with a hunk of burning love interest (no doubt real Scots men did NOT look like him 200 years ago!) but it's part historical fiction, science fiction, soft porn, oh I could go on...and I'm a lesbian!! Who cares, hot sex is hot sex, right? Yes, it's trash and I'm sick of the theme song but I wait breathlessly for the next installment.

So there you have it. Not a political moment in this here post.

Love and kisses,

Beth