Last night some of us cooked and fed homeless teens. We do this four or five times a year. Kellie, with great generosity, brought the most beautiful king salmon pieces I think I've ever seen. Worth so much. And she marinated and cooked it. The kids ate three or four servings. As one boy left, he said, "That's the best fish I've  ever tasted!!"

I gave deep thanks for the salmon. Good protein and fish oils for those children who went out into 20 degree weather.

We also made veggie fritatta which they loved. And  mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy.

I love this team so much. Tina and Chris come every time. Then there's the wandering band who  volunteer, changes  with the season.

Tiger Mountain today. And yes, there is a tent city at the end of this road.

Dear hearts-

The year is wrapping up with a bang. I attended another  birth last night. We're eight for eight since last Thursday. The momma last night (and this morning) has a rough time but she did it. At one point she was hollering  at the top of her lungs with each contraction. But she brought out her wee boy who had a slow start but was hale and hearty when they left the birth center.

Got home at 5AM and fell into bed with my clothes on. It's harder as a grandma to recover from all nighters. But I manage.

 

A friend recently admonished me when I said, "but anyone could have been at the birth and helped the mother" (because I want people to own their experience) that I did indeed help them. I got up in the middle of the night and went out on the highway in the dark and cold to where some woman was in labor (in travail as they used to say). I hung out with the family until the baby made her appearance and I kept them safe and took the long watch because it was my job and my calling. And the blessings from this long life of service have been countless. Countless.

The spiritual practice I study encourages us to celebrate our own goodness, to see that we can have  a positive effect on our world. However small our acts of kindness are.

As I sit here in my quiet house with tea and not quite enough sleep, I reflect on all the kindnesses that go unnoticed. In service to others, because our hearts are calling us to love who and what we love. Because there is goodness in us.

Dogs understand 200 words. Or should I say, SOME dogs understand 200 words. Felix understands but chooses to ignore me.

While I was on a Zoom call today,  Felix started barking and then the smoke detector went off. No, I didn't burn down the house. I did burn tea on the stove. Who does that?

Then there was, er, the bathroom cabinet which Daniel built. Um, it didn't quite fit so he took off the window sill and the heater cover. Still not quite. So Monday he returns to take off the baseboard and see if that will do it.

Tonight Holly and I are going to see Pilobolus:

Attended a climate justice workshop this morning where we were encouraged to grieve the loss of so many things. Mine were the polar bears...wept through the morning with a bunch of strangers. A lot of parents fearful for their children. Felt so tired now so watching these young women in Nepal was enough to bring some comfort in. We do what we can...

Truly dark by 5 PM now. 

Well, waiting for the chimney sweep. My living room still smells like smoke after my one fire in the fireplace this fall. And they give me a 'range' when the person will show up. **sigh**

Maya and I are beginning to plan for my 70th birthday. How? Did? I? Get? Here? Time passes and one day you're getting your hair cut and noticing the jowls exactly like your mother you have hanging off your face.

We are looking at the Oregon coast so most can drive here. After the (never ending) fires in California, I am wanting most guests to be able to drive. My sister lives to hell and gone on the East Coast and Katrina lives in upstate NY so there's no hope for it but they both want to come. We're looking at way big houses near/on the beach with a hot tub and a game room for the teenagers and enough beds for most everyone. All my co-dependent tendencies are coming out with worrying about who will have to stay nearby and who can bunk together and on and on. And trusting that my brother won't say anything awkward to my trans friend. And who is vegan or vegetarian or paleo or wheat/gluten/nut etc sensitive.

My sister and Katrina will fly into Seattle and we'll drive down in my very small car...I'm getting ahead of myself.

My dear daughter is SO levelheaded. And diplomatic. Where the hell does she get it? Certainly not from me. I just can't seem to handle these family sort of things. I worry about everything. But lordy, these are people who want to celebrate with me and they are all wonderful even if they don't know each other.

I am hoping we can do a 'bad poetry' night. I'll encourage everyone to bring bad poetry-either Rod McKuen or Jewel or their own high school or college attempts. Self consciousness is an important ingredient, of course. I have a few books called Bad Poetry or Very Bad Poetry and one poem is called "The Queen of Cheese". It's,  um, very special.

Ok, so now i can officially call the chimney sweep place to find out if they're even coming.