Today I have ferns in my antlers too.

The sun is highlighting the clouds through my bedroom window. I still give thanks I'm not living in the cave anymore.

Hugo took a trip to the vet as he has lost a hideous amount of weight. The vet gave him fluids and drew blood. He's got a 'confusing' blood panel and he could have pancreas problems or a heart issue but there is nothing to do for either. After I brought him home, he ate huge amounts of food. Actually, every time I see him, I feed him. Lola is pissed off but her figure is a bit more svelte. Anyway, a sign that Hugo was feeling better was the wee pile of entrails on the kitchen floor this morning. Sigh.

I am having a blast with my new g'friend. Yesterday we went to a quiet suburban lake so she and her friends could paddle board and I could kayak. She came over to help me load the boat and it was SO MUCH EASIER with two people. I've been so used to doing everything by myself, it's been challenging to a) ask for help and b) have help offered out of the blue. I've been running my business, managing the home front complete with a remodel which will never be done and caring for myself and assorted animals alone. Mostly, it's fine. And then I start a relationship with this new person who is offering to be part of all this and I'm flabbergasted. Really. I don't know how to act.

She brought up all my art supplies from the basement so now I can put my studio together.

She likes me. She thinks I'm great.

Wow.

Hanging at the birth center, waiting on a momma who just met us last week and here today on her due date in labor. Whew. She transferred after seeing the 'birth center' in the hospital where she was planning to deliver. Nope, too much like a hospital. She wants a nice peaceful experience away from the hospital vibe. Now her insurance might not cover us (arghh) but she's here, she's lovely and we do free care sometimes.

She's walking up and down stairs with her man and her sister. Moaning with contractions. Felix is spending another night with Randy, the best dog person in the whole world.

My house painter almost fell off the ladder last week and now she has scaffolding. Sheesh, no more episodes, ok? We were all there: her son, my contractor and I.  We grabbed the ladder and coaxed her down. She was hanging from a soffit on the second floor. She said my voice was the one she listened to because I used my birth voice on her.

Lights, radio, double locks, don't fail me now.

And blue doors please. Sky blue doors.

It's a new day at the Coyote household. There will be motion detection lights in the back yard and keyed locks. There are timers on the lights and locks on the gates in the front. Before I get an alarm system, I've done what I can.

I replaced my computer. Had to. I did leave the dog alone tonight because I'm at a birth.

I'm digging up the yard bit by bit, turning over the sod and breaking up the clay. We took out the sidewalk so getting to the front door is interesting, especially after it rains. Yes, rain, beautiful rain, lovely rain. I have one dahlia in full bloom, a gift from the previous owners. It's huge and bright red. Dahlias, the hussies of the flower world. Big and brassy and fabulous.

Hugo, my gorgeous big cat, has gotten quite skinny. He was such a killer for the summer but not recently. I fear we need a trip to the vet. Maybe he's just old. I've had him for 12-13 years and who knows how old he was when he showed up in my back yard.

Animals...

Thievery and mayhem

Dear thieves who broke into my house, hosed my dog so he'd stay back and flooded the floors with water, stole my computer, my grandmother's silver, my grandfather's gold ring, my Kindle and a few other pieces of jewelry---

You must be desperate. I've stolen in my life. I've stolen food when I was homeless and poor. I've taken things that weren't mine for the taking.

I told a lot of people about the theft and their reactions were like this:

"Bastards!"

"I'm buying an alarm system for my house."

"I'm so sorry."

"Do you have motion lights?"

"Go to the pawn shops and or Craig's list and look for your stuff."

Dear thieves-Thank you for not hurting my dog or trashing the new walls or breaking windows. Both the katz are here and accounted for. Thank you for dropping a lot of jewelry in the driveway as you fled. Nothing valuable but gifts from friends. Thank you for reminding me how important it is to back up my computer. I have an external hard drive that I used as recently as May, hooray for me. Thank you for reminding me that my business is doing well enough to pay for another computer, and for that I'm grateful. Thank you for the opportunity to talk with my neighbors and to warm them to be safe and lock up.

The second precept encourages one to "refrain from taking that which is not freely offered." Apples on the ground are freely offered? Discuss amongst yourselves. The second precept also discusses generosity as the two go hand in hand.

Im my situation, what is being offered to me? Forgiving the thieves, who are probably between the ages of 11-17, according to the police who were here. Allowing myself to feel sad that I won't be passing along stuff from my maternal line to my children. It is just stuff, after all. Continuing to be generous in all the ways that I can. Generous with my time. Generous with my resources. Generous with my love. I hope I don't sound hopelessly naive. I'll still lock my doors. I'll consider hiding my computer when I leave the house. But I still need to forgive my younger desperate self the food I stole. And the unseen young (probably) men who entered my house, riffled my underwear drawer, and made away with some objects I was hoping to give to my children.

Those young men have learned to break and enter. What else will they learn as they grow up?

IT RAINED LAST NIGHT AND IT'S SUPPOSED TO RAIN TODAY.

PRAISE BE TO ALL THE BEINGS THAT MADE THIS HAPPEN.

Our poor Eastern Washington with huge wildfires, the smoke so thick the air in Seattle has been bad; hazy, hot and red suns in the morning and red moons at night. Firefighters have lost their lives. Houses have burned up. Of course there is no mention of all the creatures who have died. And the forests-all those trees. Great suffering in all ways. Relentless hot days, day after day after day.

I am performing a wedding on Saturday. Rehearsal dinner and run-through tomorrow. The young couple moved their ceremony from Eastern WA because of the all the fires and evacuations. They say it will rain for a few days. We expect the rain. We welcome it. It's part of our collective mystique.

And I caught a cold after a birth I did on Tuesday. Guzzling all sorts of symptoms suppression and tea and tylenol-the usual stuff. As long as I can get through the service without sneezing, coughing or blowing my nose.

I went to the lake early this morning with my kleenix and cough syrup to meet Houston on her paddle board. When Felix and I got there, she was nowhere in sight. Eventually she appeared, coming silently across the lake. Lake Washington is huge, y'all. A mirage woman on the quiet lake.

Even though I feel crappy, gotta go water my wee plants in my p-patch.

Then back to bed with my hankies and movies.

No contractors for two weeks. Exterior paint and then the deck gets built. Then a break while I figure out how to re-do the kitchen cheaply. I might just tear out everything and live in stud cavities. I'm used to it. And when you have an actual house, you have to clean it. Lola has already herked up a hairball under the bed on the new floor. It's like getting a dent in your new car.

Now I can relax.

People-

I'm dating someone who is a open water distance swimmer.

Hoo boy. I swim just fine but she left me in the dust, er, in her wake. A little dot of bathing cap way ahead of me. It's ok.

She paddle boards.

She likes me.

I like her.

There's a lot more I could say but for now.

Let's see how this goes.




(a moment of silence for Beth's tattered love life)


In other news, I have officially moved into my new expanded house. I reorganized the kitchen and there is a big bare floor in there because now the table is in the dining nook. I hung up pots and pans. I shelved jars that have been sitting out for a year. (and dusted them off). The dust is terrible but I keep at it. I moved my office into the old bedroom and now the living room is HUGE. I sprinkled plants around the house. I have two new closets and have yet to figure out what to put where.

The office shuffle is always interesting. I find photos that send me back. Pics of the kids in grade school. Friends that aren't alive any more. Stacks and stacks of poetry that I wrote. My book. My chapbook. The legal case I've been asked to testify in as an expert witness. Stuff. So much that working really interferes with my art life.

Still to set up my studio. The giant canvas I stretched has been in the garage getting dented and dusty.

When I wake, the sunrise is what I see.

I got a p-patch!!!! I went and turned over the soil in my 10X10 spot, pulled weeds and cleaned out the tool shed. The site feels a bit neglected but I'll fix that! I planted cabbage, kale, parsley and leeks. The clay soil under a thin layer of compost was so hard I threw clumps I couldn't break up against the rock wall. I so love to garden. The second time I was there, some kids were hanging at the picnic tables smoking weed and talking. So weird to walk or drive around Seattle with the smell of grass everywhere. Soon it will be commonplace.

Off to  bed. Tomorrow is a p-patch day with my new flame.  I like the way she smells. I think that's a good sign. Spicy. Faint cedar-y.

Zen dog

Today I took a shower in the tiled shower in my bathroom. For the first time. I might take another shower tomorrow.

We contemplated a glass shower door that was gonna cost a bundle and wouldn't be installed for three weeks. Jim put up a temporary shower curtain and curtain rod and I said, "Well, what's wrong with this?"

Hey, we don't have to spend over a thou for a shower door, by golly!!!!! Curtain rod and shower curtain, ta-da!

I think I want a shower curtain with Elvis on it. Or Darth Vader. Or kittens with bows. My bathroom is currently too, um, perfect. No kat barf. No clumps of fur. No random animal parts.

I know. I want unicorns. Or rainbows. Or The Terminator.

The weather here is altogether too weird. I think it's the influx of Amazon people. Don't ask for a reason but I'm sure I'm right.

Dears-

I took a bath yesterday. In my bathroom. I moved a dresser into the new bedroom. I moved a giant plant into the loft. There are bits and pieces to do still.

Andrew and his dad (XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX) tiled and it's beautiful.

Meanwhile the babies role along. One of them scared me last week but all is well.

I unpacked two boxes of toiletries and I must never buy sunscreen ever again. Eight tubes? Really?

I am officially a badass

The annual Seafair thang in Seattle. Navy war ships make their way from the base in Bremerton and we were there to greet them with our scary kayaks and peace signs. The aircraft carrier was enormous. And I'm not kidding. 

The fearless crew in front of a war ship. (I'm taking the photo)

The tip of my wee kayak and our other leetle boats. The catamaran had a huge sign that said PEACE FLEET. As you see, the water was choppy and there were police and Coast Guard boats warning us away. As if we could do any damage. David and Goliath, y'all.

It dumped rain and then stopped so we could see and hear the incomparable Mavis Staples outside at the zoo. She's 76, y'all, and a short dynamic bundle. She covered a Talking Heads song (!) among other splendors. The sun went down on cue and we headed for home after shaking ourselves out to some very fine music.



And Patty Griffin too.



Now that's a concert to sit in the rain for.

I'm waiting in the Sacramento airport for my flight. Surreal to drive through the hot, flat fields of drought afflicted California at 80 MPH. My rental car had about 2000 miles on it and it was FAST.

At the lodge, there was much swimming and eating and more swimming and eating. And a game of Risk and Rummicube and Pokemon. At least one viewing of Ratatouille. The adults made mountains of food and did mountains of dishes.

Adele and I had a brainstorm and made this cheesecake with cream cheese, yogurt, eggs, pancake batter, lemon zest and sugar. And a plethora of fresh fruit.  It was gone in 3 minutes. 

So Maya asked me to bring cream cheese, eggs, fruit and yogurt. Well, in the wilds of I-5, there is NOTHING but a Costco where one can get enough cream cheese, etc for the Great Flood. I bought a 48 ounce container of cream cheese. And yogurt. And 24 eggs.  So needless to say, we had no shortage of ingredients, except for the crust and no flour. We did have pancake batter which worked just fine. And ginger snaps which we crushed up for the crust after deciding that the date, crushed nuts idea was better as candy (and the kids agreed). So voila- we made a beautiful cheesecake that we were very proud of. 

We also put together two jigsaw puzzles, the second one in record time because Brian told us we'd never finish it. Who says I'm not competitive??

It was an artistic masterpiece of, um, unicorns, dolphins, and elephant, a camel, a rooster (?), pink fish, half-naked dancing girls---well, it was breathtaking. That girl Hazel is one of 'mine' and thats her momma and her big sister. Love them.

While searching for the 'best' puzzle to bring (ie. most tacky, with the most non-sequiturs) , I was standing in the big store in front of the display of jigsaws, from 50 piece to  2000 piece thangs. It was a toss-up between the row of dogs wearing hats and ties with binoculars and cameras around their necks and the aforementioned, uh, parade of nonsense. 

A lady of a certain age sidled up to me so we could talk jigsaws. She was admiring the variety and such. Then she asked what I did with the completed puzzle. Well, I put it back in the box?? Nope, she glued the puzzle together and hung it on her wall, in fact she had so many, she had to rotate them. Oh boy. I just couldn't tell her I was looking for the worst puzzles for our annual outing. That Adele and I have bonded over a puppy puzzle that had gerbils and butterflies in it.

Oh dear. 

It has cooled down in ye olde Seattle. I'm back at work soon enough. My house, dare I say it, is  approaching fulfillment and I can almost move my bed into the light-filled bedroom. Bathroom tiling this coming weekend (ach, Seafair with attendant deafening noise). 

Those beautiful people at the top of this post are my people. beloved people. 

People-

It is so hot here. The grass is brown and crinkly. I water my poor plants daily, sometimes twice.

But.

I have finished floors and a working faucet in the bathroom. I've actually brushed my teeth and washed my face at the bathroom sink. Week after next, I'll have tile and a shower.

The katz are lying about limply. The dog and I go to the lake where we take turns swimming. He swims, I tie him up to a log and I go in, repeat. The trick is to get my core temp down enough so going home to my very hot house is bearable. Because the last owners installed windows that open sideways, I can't leave them open. Anyone can walk by, step over the sill and ta-da! Some day, I'll replace them. Is this the end times?

My blessed neighbors are allowing me to cut down the massive arbor vitae hedge that borders our property. This is so exciting. I'll have south light. The living room will lose it's gloom. As for the cave-bedroom where I've been living for the past year, I'll be moving my bed into sunlit digs soon enough. The gloom room will become a) my office where I'll never go, b) my meditation room where I will go once a day, or c) a spare bedroom which will be used occasionally and where the katz will undoubtedly sleep and get hair all over the cover.

Then there are the boxes which have been sitting around for a year, hither and thither. What's in them? Do I even care anymore?

I had a massage yesterday with a new person. She came in the room, all diminutive bits of her and she proceeded to give me the massage of my life, hoo-boy. She named off the muscles and attachments as she went, while I groaned and wept silently. My various parts were rearranged afterwards. I've been living with random aches and pains, taking the daily ibuprofen and ignoring the elbow, knee sacrum trifecta. Because I have to work. Because I can't stop just because things hurt. Because. I'll go see her again, of course. And add yoga to my routine. I have to move or else I freeze in weird shapes.

I fell into a heat swoon and took a wee nap just now. It's too frickin' hot in here so Felix and I are heading to the water.

Ah, Scotland...

My dears:

Yes, that is stain on the floors. Next week, they'll be sealed. The last week of July, the tiling in the bathroom will be finished. Some of the lights work and some of the plumbing. I'm breathless with anticipation. 

I spread a yard of compost over the front yard and today I planted delphinium, ground cover, lilies, hebes, azalea and a few plants I thought were pretty and I don't know what they're called. I bought a new shovel. 

Dinner last night looked like this:

because of this sweet man (and giant cauliflower) and his wife, my friend Joanne:

A friend here in town has been given a grave diagnosis so I'll be helping out. My sangha has gotten good at phone trees and potlucks and rides to the doctor. 

For two days after getting home, I wept at the slightest provocation. Raw, I felt raw. Not just jet-lag but raw to the touch. And gradually, my skin has grown back and I'm beginning to feel more normal. Waiting to attend a birth, probably tomorrow. 

Brevity. That's what I'm so present to. The days fly by, plants grow and bloom and wither and die back. Those bloody block houses are springing up everywhere in our town to house the influx of techies, blots in the neighborhoods of modest two bedroom bungalows, all with low profiles and outdated kitchens. My electrician who has faithfully worked on this house for the past year told me a developer bought a lot on her street and a month later, there was a completed block house, at an inflated price. No yard, no porch, just a featureless block with windows. I've attended births in those houses and in condos where the space is all vertical, three floors with a room on each floor. Surely there is a better way to house people in dense neighborhoods. 

Then there's a house like this in Scotland. Did I mention, I left my heart in Scotland and no, not because of the whisky but because of this:

And this:

Eden going for a Yorkshire pudding and declaring, "Mom, I've made a terrible mistake."

Um, hum. High tea. What else would it be?

Dears-

I staggered up the hill from the light rail with about 435 pounds of luggage because, of course, I came back with more than I left with. My filthy white dog greeted me at the door but he is lying limply on the floor because it is feckin' hot in Seattle.

Apparently, animal control visited while I was away. And I found ANOTHER complaint from a 'neighbor' about my dog running in their yard ???????????? WTF??? He wasn't even HERE.  My dog person had him for three weeks. Naturally, I'm terrified they'll come and take him away.  This is the third complaint. The first time I had dog(s) so I called them and told them I have one fenced-in dog. The second time He was on the neighbor's property (?) so I stopped walking him down the street. Does someone not like me? He does bark at people who walk by but he's behind a fence, sheesh.

Shite.

Anyway, I'm too tired to post any pictures but I will. I'm moving to Scotland  because it is gorgeous. Paris was, well, Paris and full of French people. London was the same, only full of English people. Some many beautiful places we visited. Hanging with my girls was fun too but man, I'm really tired right now and I think it's the middle of the night where I just was so I think I'll have a lie down and tell you more stories when I've sorted myself out (and sorted out the dog).

Dear neighbor who is complaining about Felix,

Come talk to me, ok? I'm sure we can work this out. He's harmless but loud. I have a sturdy fence. What the hell is your problem?

Yours,

Beth the responsible dog owner

I leave the day after tomorrow. I'm still in bed in my tee-shirt.

I went and exchanged money yesterday. There's squatty guy with a white beard sitting behind bullet-proof glass in a downtown cubby. You hand him a wad of cash and he gives you a smaller wad of pounds.

My contractor and I talked about food of the UK. It's horrifying. Haggis is something you can eat in Scotland. Offal in a sheep's bladder? Yum. And don't ask for Scotch. Ask for whisky, duh, you're IN Scotland so of course, it's Scotch whisky. And that's whisky without an 'e'. Ireland has whiskey.  No veggies, apparently. No greens, anyway. The beer or stout is warm. Expect fish and chips.

What do I do now? Make sure I have directions to all the airb&b places. Decide what clothes to wear. Look at the weather channel again for suggestions? Hot? Cold? Rain?

It's warm here in the (formerly) gloomy Northwest. We are lying about while the sun streams in the dirty windows. The new windows have splattered paint, coffee, what-all and the front windows, at least the one I can see, has dog nose juice all over the bottom.

Raven, Lynn's son, is house sitting and here is a partial list for him:

Hi Raven:

Welcome to my house.

Every day:

Water all the outdoor plants. There are several in pots and they will get especially dry. There are two hoses which I drag around. Don't forget the garden by the cellar stairs. Obviously, the laurel hedges don't need watering...or the bamboo (grrrrrrr). With this warm weather, the plants will need a daily watering as they are trying to establish themselves.

The cats, Hugo and Lola, are fed in the evening. I give them a scoop of wet food and a scoop of dry food. I've left the phone number for the vet but hope you won't need it. The cat carrier is in the basement by the sauna. Hugo has the disconcerting habit of bringing in his prey (birds and rats), eating them and leaving a few 'gifts' for you to clean up. They also herk up hairballs, grass and semi-digested food. Here are a bunch of rags for cleaning up after them. Be sure their water bowl is always full.

The litter box is currently under the stairs. I clean it out every day. When the can is full, I take it right out to the garbage can. There are plastic bags under the sink. Once Jim starts on the floor, the litter box will have to come in to the kitchen (sorry) and Hugo will be blocked from going through the cat door. You may be letting him in and out through the front door until the floors are done.

The toilet upstairs works fine. Otherwise, the basement bathroom will be where you'll go for showers and a toilet. Sorry it's so ugly down there but it all works. Once the floors are laid and wet, you'll be inconvenienced by having to go through the front door to get to the basement bathroom. I leave the door unlocked down there but there are keys to the locks if you want to lock it.

The bathroom may be all done before I come home. Exciting! Although there may not be a shower door...Jim can tell you if it's safe to use the shower.

At least weekly, water the indoor plants. I will water them just before I leave but again, with the warm weather, they will dry out too. There is a jug under the sink which I use for watering them.

WIFI is lolahugo and the PW is felix123.

There are towels in the closet and the sheets are clean. If you want to do laundry, the washer and dryer are in the basement.

Any food I've left, please eat! There is a Red Apple north on Beacon. There isn't much nearby but down the hill is the Rainier Beach Community Center with an awesome pool and the library is near the pool.

In the bedroom, in the cabinet is the TV with a VCR/DVD player. There are 4 remotes and I bet you can figure out how to use them...I couldn't begin to explain.

Light rail is at the bottom of the hill and if you want to go to Columbia City, it stops there. There's a movie theatre, a farmers' market on Wednesday and a PCC that is a short hike from the light rail. There's also the Columbia City Bakery with much yumminess.

Bless you Raven, for agreeing to do this. I wouldn't. 

I have a stretchy bandage thing on my right knee and I've wrapped my right elbow with an ice stretchy thing.

Getting old is not fun. Injuries take way longer to heal.

Ibuprofen is my best friend.

And besides, I'm about to traipse all over the UK and I can't have aches and pains and a trick knee and tennis elbow.

I fear I need knee surgery. The last time was a blast, and I do mean boy howdy.

Off to sit with my vipassana people.

Go see this movie:



Immediately.

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. 

Terrible terrible news from Nepal, Katmandu where I've traveled and circumambulated the stupa there in the center of town. The chaos of power lines overhead, the thin children, the skinny dogs, the cacophony of horns blaring, the stink of stagnant water, garbage and diesel fuel exhaust. Bright colors of the saris. The displaced Tibetans praying in the square, spinning hundreds of prayer wheels. And now an earthquake adding to the misery, the disastrous heaving and parting of the earth, toppling buildings and tearing roads apart and crushing families.

O if I could only go there right now to be part of the relief. Haiti was the same way, the total destruction, so many injuries, not enough medical support.

How did the Kopan monastery fare? The sweet nuns rolling fragrant powder into incense sticks, giving us chai and cookies in their temple.

May we all be safe and well. May we be held in love and compassion.










Eden left for LA this morning. Always letting go of our children.

My friend Heidi made this video: hilarious, especially the music.

https://vimeo.com/125867934


I'm sleeping all night. NO BABIES ALLOWED.

Two births yesterday, at another today. My student and I are sitting in the kitchen looking over Puget Sound, expansive view with the Olympic Mountains on the horizon. The momma is in her bedroom being quiet and still, wanting privacy. The tub lady is setting up the birth tub. This mom caught her last baby in the water, wants to do that again.


The two year old is being entertained by her big sister.

Yesterday's big baby boy. Today's baby is a boy too. Tonight I hope to sleep all night. That would be so great.  

I have kitchen envy here. Besides the million dollar view, the kitchen is tidy with cupboards galore and a sink and a dishwasher and lighting. I could go on. My kitchen is more Nepali, a pot on a fire ring on the floor. With goats and entrails. 

Sara and me and baby Christina

Dears-

Holly and I headed up to 'our' hiking trail on Tiger Mountain (well Holly whined about my short leash because of my call schedule) so I managed it, a few hours outside the city in the beauty of the new forest growth. Trillium! Young fern fronds! Trees down and sun blading through the boughs.

Before we get there, at the trailhead, homeless encampment #4 along the paved road. A generator, porta-potties in a row, a kitchen, a lounge with a flat screen TV, an office and wooden pallets with tents and tarps, homes. A man and a boy, father and son? They smiled at us and petted Felix. The boy was working on a computer. A woman with a small dog. Fragments of their former lives. All under the forest canopy beside the freeway, warm spring air, nettle shoots and leaf buds on the alder.






Writing this though my heart breaks, breaks with the thrush song in the pines and my brothers and sisters living outside in such circumstances. I still haven't found a way to hold all the sorrow and joy in one place. And so unexpected to to find a homeless camp at the edge of the woods where I go for solace. It no longer works to 'forget' that we are always in the slipstream of change, that we aren't separate from all that is. The great birth and the great death, the brief time we call our lives.

As Larry Ward, a dharma teacher said recently, "Who are you? The Dalai Lama knows who he is. Do you know who you are?" It's not enough to have our saints and heroes. We must be ready to respond in the present moment.



Holly gave the guy in the office a few bucks. We talked with the woman with the dog. I am you, sister. I could easily be where you are. I offer you kindness. May you be well and safe and happy.

I sent this child off to Waldron Island to harvest seaweed. We fell asleep watching Sherlock last night. There is nothing like having a child you've sent out in the world come back for a visit. Nothing like it.

Before this was taken, we'd had a session at the gym and after a yoga class. I got to introduce her to my buddies. I fed her a big breakfast. I slipped a few bills in her pocket. Never ends, does it? That mix of pride and worry and tremendous love.

Love.

One of my heroes has gone.

http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-32277415

I heard her speak once at a conference. With towering white hair,  she came on stage, bosom preceding her (as my mother would say, 'like the prow of a ship'). And yes, she talked about the 'psycho-sexual experience of childbirth' in her clipped British accent. I've never been the same since.

Ok so in the last eleven days, our practice had, count 'em seven babies Whew. I'm exhausted. This morning in the wee hours we welcomed a hefty 11 pound boy on the bedroom floor. Momma was pretty quiet and efficient. Poppa was grateful we were there because he caught the last baby a few years ago by accident. That labor was too swift for any of us to get there.

I'm so tired.

On the home front, the electrician was here all day yesterday getting ready for the walls to be closed in ie: insulation and drywall. Hot damn.

In the meantime, Eden is arriving in a few days and I've cleared out one of the basement rooms so she'll have a place to sleep. Can't wait to spend some time with her.

I've done the wash, swept, washed the dog bed where one of the katz had pooped (sigh), fed myself and meditated.

Now to take said dog out for his constitutional. And pray no one else goes into labor so we can all recover and sleep all night.

When I told Sara she handled the last birth 'adroitly' she asked for the meaning of the word.

adroit :  having or showing skill, cleverness, or resourcefulness in handling situations adroit

 leader> <adroit maneuvers>

Then she hugged me. 

A warm April day. Stayed in bed until 10:30!!!! almost a record. My body feeling every bit of her 65 years today. Achey knees, sore back, easily winded, sprained finger throbbing and inflexible. Anxiety my friend and companion. An email from the owner of the birth center where my clinic is-raising the rent $300 a month and by the way, they'll be out of town for a week (in Maui) so get back to him with any comments after they get back. Ha!

I can't figure out the whole thing. I'm privileged to live in a house. I have enough food. I'm white in a white dominated culture. I have health and dental insurance. I'm pretty healthy. I'm fortunate enough to have and care for pets. I can spend time going to retreats. I will somehow manage to go to the UK with my children this summer. My problems are 'First World problems' as they say in my POC sangha.

And yet I'm afraid. I'm afraid that my business will fail. I'm afraid I'll end up old and alone. I'm afraid I'll outlive my meager savings. (whine, whine, whine)

Where's the joy in all this?

I planted hostas, a crab apple and a hydrangea today. In my new yard. Felix found every muddy trench on our walk on the Chief Sealth trail, an asphalt trail under the power lines that winds and climbs through my 'hood.  The white dog with black paws, that's my dog.

On my mantle is a beautiful hand carved Quan Yin, her clothing lifted by the winds and her feet held  by the surging waves. In her hand she holds a vase dipping downward symbolizing spilling the waters of compassion. She Who Hears The Cries of The World.

Beside her is the awful photo of Michael Brown's father wailing at his son's grave. surrounded by other mourners.

We all suffer. We all have the capacity for joy. And between those two places we swing.

Well, Christina Nicole weighed in at 9# 14oz, a whopping big girl. Her brother was disappointed as he is still the only boy with (now) three sisters. A lovely daytime birth with the movie 'Frozen' running over and over for the older kids. (arghhha) I'm pretty sure I can live without that movie for the rest of my life.

Listening to David Sedaris in the car and laughing my ass off as I drive. I'm sure I look demented to other drivers but I don't care.

The dog went berserk when I came home because he's been in the house way too long.

The ladder to the loft is all glued together and clamped with big rods. It's beautiful. Jim is an artist with carpentry skills.

Eden is coming to visit and work a bit next week. I don't quite know how this slipped by me. The film festival is starting and she's bought tickets for a film a friend made (she is an LA girl). I'm not sure where she'll be sleeping but we'll figure something out. I could clear out a basement room...

I could put her in the loft if it has walls.

I am now feeling like I'm losing it a bit. As the $ trickles away and the rooms remain undone, I now understand how people can live with stud cavities. They ran out of money. And that was that.

Do chickpeas ever get soft? I've been cooking them on and off for three days and they're still like pebbles, slightly soft pebbles. I know, I know, I should have used the pressure cooker.

What a pleasure to attend births with Sara. What a smart, gentle and perceptive young midwife she is. How lucky for the ladies of the future to find their way into her care.  Yes, I tell her all this. She needs to know.

Hangin' by the fire in my jammies waiting for a call to go to a birth. The momma is WAY overdue and we have a significant pile-up right behind her. Somebody needs to get the ball rolling, as they say.

Afraid to book any more airbnb until I can get Eden to help me. We get on the phone and cruise all the listings and argue about the merits and shortcomings of each.

Edinburgh looks amazing, really amazing. We just don't have any cities in the US with an ancient castle in the middle of town. We just don't.

Oban, Scotland. Yes, I'm going there.

I'm looking obsessively at airbnb for lodging in the UK, rather nerve-wracking. The one place I really liked in Wales doesn't provide bedding or towels. Um, I'm not taking a sleeping bag with me, nope. So far, we've got lodging in Paris, London and Cardiff. Today looking at Edinburgh and I've figured out we can do a day trip to Oban, gorgeous scenery and Oban, people, home of my favorite Scotch. It's a coastal town. Scotland, is, frankly, a beautiful place. (are there too many commas in that last sentence? I fear there are.)

I'm cautiously excited. The $$ will be there somehow. Came home to a bill from the painter, not too big but there's so much more to do. I'll be working for the rest of my life, that's clear.

Watched the docu about Roger Ebert. Quite amazing that he allowed himself to be filmed with half a face.

Danced this morning and as usual had a blissful time. A new person, Greg, grinned the whole time and kissed and hugged me at the end. Dancing brings out the joy in us. I hope I can dance forever in some way. Heidi was there today after being gone for two months. She had a tumor removed from her spine and had to relearn to walk. She was rejoicing in moving her toes and her legs. And she took some rest times.

On my way there, two male mallards were leisurely crossing the street as they do at this time of year. Moseying along. Although it's usually a boy and a girl, waiting on some eggs. I thought, well, these boys have found each other. Queer ducks, you go. Although there might be a surplus of boy ducks, I'm holding out for gay duckdom.

We have a bit of a fearful baby pileup, no one in labor as yet. Please, one at a time, ladies.

I'm currently inclining my mind toward joy. It's easier than I thought. I'm often secretly grumpy so joy practice is probably more helpful in the world.

For instance:

1. I have a working toilet.
2. The katz have both been treated for fleas and are no longer scratching and driving themselves and me crazy.
3. Jim is making a ladder with pretty wood so we can dispense with the aluminum ladder to the loft.
4. There was enough money to pay all the bills and payroll. I can wait for a paycheck.
5. I have the best friends-writers, artists, dancers, singers and carpenters.
6. My children are splendid and I consider them my friends. A miracle.
7. My car works.
8. My job is usually the greatest. And the babies grow up into good adults.
9. All the trees I've planted are sprouting leaves.
10. My body is strong and not too painful.
11. I have a dharma community and I know how lucky I am.
12. Joy is everywhere if I look for it.

40 years ago tomorrow this beautiful woman was born. In our bedroom after a 2 1/2 hour labor. Eden sweetheart. I can't be with you on your birthday because of mommas waiting here to give birth. I  know you understand. I love you more than I can ever say. We'll travel together this summer to the motherland. Know that I celebrate your birth today, tomorrow and forever. XXXX Mom

In other news:

Look what I found in my soon to be completed bathroom when I came home from work, with heavenly light shining on it. I could hear the angels singing.

It even flushes. 

In other news, Rebecca is home from the hospital. Casey in the Sudan has fallen very ill. Illness, the great leveler.

May we all be free from suffering and the causes of suffering. 

May we be warm and safe and loved.

May we be held in compassion.

May we and all beings in all the directions be free.

Today while driving to dance practice, I passed a seagull sitting on the road on I-5, off to the right. My thoughts went faster and faster as I considered the possibilities-pulling over to rescue (way too dangerous), getting off the freeway and coming back around and being in the far right lane to accomplish a daring rescue, hoping someone else would be able to rescue an obviously injured bird. I allowed my heart to break for all wounded beings and I sent a strong and hopeful resolution that the seagull would be able to fly away or be carried away to safety. O the wounded animals and birds we cared for when I was a child. Some died. Some lived.

As I was waiting for the light to change, I watched an elderly woman with a cane carefully open her purse, take out her wallet, extract a dollar bill and give it to the homeless man who often stands at that corner. Right out in the open on a busy street. She put her wallet away, hoisted her purse and went on her way. I bet this is not a person who has lots of money, in fact I'm sure she's living on a fixed income. But she's doing what she can to alleviate suffering.

Wounded birds. Wounded people.

Dear Rebecca is in the hospital and quite sick. No word from her son but I visited last week. I will try to go again this week barring deliveries. There is little I can do except to sit by her bed.

I've plotted out the UK trip, sort-of. I've figured out mileage from place to place and now I need to have another conference call with my daughters in order to make airbnb reservations. I want to go to the Isle of Skye even thought it's a far away drive. So hard to know how long to spend in different places......

Instead of being a productive citizen today, I've been watching Rectify, an enormously beautiful and sad series about a man wrongly accused of a crime who has been freed because of DNA evidence. He's thoughtful and tender and angry and he's having a hell of a time adjusting to the outside after so many years inside. The story moves from the present to the past with some gorgeous dialog.

Finished another Sue Grafton book with homeless folks in it. She says this in the epilog about two homeless people who were characters in her story:

Their ways were not those we most desire fro ourselves, but that didn't make them wrong. We seem determined to save the homeless: to fix them, to change them into something other than what they are. We want them to be like us but they are not. 

The homeless do not want our pity, nor do they deserve our scorn. Our judgements about them, for good or for ill, negate their right to live as they please. Both the urge to rescue and the need to condemn fail to take into account the concept of their personal liberty, which they may exercise as they see fit as long as their actions fall within the law. For Terrance and Felix, their battles were within and their victories hard-won. I think of these two men as soldiers of the poor, part of an army of the disaffected. The homeless have established a nation within a nation, but we are not at war. Why should we not coexist in peace when we may be in greater need of salvation than they?

This is what the homeless long for: respect, freedom from hunger, shelter from the elements, safety, the companionship of the like-minded. They want to live without fear. They want to enjoy the probity of the open air without the risk of bodily harm. They want to be warm. They want the comfort of a clean bed when they are ill, relief from pain, a hand offered in friendship. Ordinary conversation. Simple needs. Why are their choices so hard for us to accept? 

What you see before you is their home. This is their dwelling place. This grass, this sunlight, these palms, this mighty ocean, the moon, the stars, the clouds overhead though they sometimes harbor rain. Under this canopy they have staked out a life for themselves. For Terrance and for Felix, this is also the wide bridge over which they passed  from life into death. Their graves will be unmarked but that does not mean they are forgotten. The earth remembers them, even as it gathers them tenderly into it's embrace. The sky still claims them and we who honor them will hold them dear from this day forward. 

XXXO

My brand new tree

Lynn leaves on Friday and I am truly married to my phone now for the next seven weeks. My solitary life of swimming and dog walking and dancing and writing and reading and waiting for the contractors to begin their noise and the late nights when I come home, get a flashlight and go look to see what has happened to the remodel (if anything)---is about to end. I'll be hassling with Felix if I can't get home to let him out, to feed him and the katz, you know the drill.

It's ok.

Tonight I met with strangers in a room to read applications for school scholarships, a local college. We were to decide, after reading 150 applications, which person came in first. And second, sorta like the Miss America contest with the first runner-up.

How the hell to decide. The scholarship was for leadership. And one of our number was quite brittle and didn't like how the rest of us were behaving/deciding. She thought we could be objective (really?) and I was impressed by our biases, our backgrounds and our own struggles to go to school, our families and communities and our life experiences informing us while we read.

There was a young man whose parents were farm workers with a 5th grade education. There was the single mother whose husband had just died. There were the First Americans who planned to return to their tribes with a social work degree. There were jocks whose recommendations came from their teammates.

We narrowed it down to the top five and then gave all the piles of papers back to the facilitators to sort out.

Sheesh.

There is a new bathtub in the remodel. It's sitting on a handcart and it's DEEP, really deep. Some day I will take a bath in it. It will be installed. In the meantime, Jim got a bid for insulation and drywall. People, it's really going to happen. I will stop looking at stud cavities and wires and I'll have WALLS and FLOORS and LIGHT SWITCHES.

This is a miracle.

Meanwhile, I'm almost done with 'Going Clear,' the Scientology expose. After this I'm gonna listen to essays by David Sedaris. I need some humor in my life.

• http://rare.us/story/watch-what-happened-after-doctors-told-this-mom-her-newborn-son-didnt-make-it/#x57RJocEjgW1lOrO.03 

Beatitude

               - Claire Bateman


Blessed are the flabby people at Walgreen's
buying Trojan transparent ribbed golden condoms.

Unlike the couple on the package,
they have never had
a beach encounter at sunset.

They are landlocked.
They have shoveled their weight in worries
and are well acquainted with mulch.

They have problems with flatulence
because they fry with lard.

Yet darkness
rocks their unfashionable limbs
into phosphorescence.

In that tide they overcome gravity.
Holy, they vocalize with the whales.

Holly met me for dinner so I could have a cocktail. I can depend on her for a good conversation about books and movies and the dharma.

A new person might be taking the place of the resident dharma teacher in the biggest sangha in the city where I never go because I don't feel welcome.

My little group is for people of color and queers and allies so I'm right at home. However, the new teacher is a woman of color AND queer. Amazing.

This morning I'm ready to hike in the rain but instead I'll go to the gym and meet Holly at the Hothouse for a soak. We have a women's spa that is in the basement of a building on Capitol Hill. There's a hot tub, a sauna and a steam. It's very quiet.

There are four trees planted in my yard now. The rain is good for them. The styrax has tiny leaves.

I had a Tarot reading yesterday after telling a friend about my recent adventures. She whipped out her deck and I picked three cards. The first one was eyeballs, teeth and worms-and my friend said, "Oh, that's the darkest card in the deck".  Awesome. The second card was the seven of swords, all bound up with red ribbons and dripping blood-super! The last card was prosperity and goodness.

So perhaps I shouldn't leave the house for a while, I'm thinking.

Feeling pretty sorry for myself tonight so I had a cry. ( see last post) Then I made the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted. I'm digging out the popcorn maker and getting some butter and brewers yeast and I'm gonna have me a party.

Tomorrow the glass guys come over and replace my car window. And I'm getting a massage. I'll probably cry the whole time. My therapist won't mind. He's used to it.

To the people who smashed my car window and stole my wallet-YOU SUCK.

However the nice transit cop who found my emptied wallet is an angel. Of course the cards were all gone and the thieves managed to charge about $1600 in stuff from Macy's downtown before they were thwarted. The cop called (!) and told me he had my wallet and he could drop it off after work. He found it in a MacDonald's parking lot. I immediately went into a story about his nefarious intentions ie. he planned to kill and maim me and leave the pieces around for the contractors to find in the morning. It didn't help that I hadn't eaten since the night before. Gawd.

He was a perfectly nice man who didn't even come in the house.

Rob the contractor drove me to the bank so I could get another debit card and fill out the fraud paperwork. I just did this with some company in Hong Kong that hacked into my bank account. Am I being targeted because of my interminable anxiety about money?

Or maybe because I'm listening to Going Clear, the book about Scientology and L. Ron. Boy howdy, he was a true nut. And he had followers, lots of them. And the 'church' has gobs of money. We're willing to believe anything, aren't we?

And all this because I was walking my dog in the park. You can find where I parked because there is a large pile of broken glass.

Ok, I'm done now with falling down on the sidewalk, smash and grab theft and the nonsense of replacing everything.

I'm ready for a care team to come in and bathe me and put me to bed. As I drift off, someone holds my hand and reassures me that all is well.

All is well. And soon I'll have a bathroom with floors, windows, a sink, a tub and a shower. I bought flooring yesterday. It's yellow. No more yogurt container for me.

Finger not broken but still effed up. Have one of those finger holder thingys that you tape on. Makes washing dishes/walking the dawg, driving, swimming, etc. difficult. It really is swollen.

However.

They x-rayed it. So beautiful to see the bones in my hand. With minor degenerative changes. Yup. Sprained it.

Feeling old and achey and tired. Banged up. Time for a massage.

There is a wee magnolia tree planted in my front yard.

The dogwood, coral bark maple and styrax await planting, along with hostas and hydrangeas and ferns and a crab apple.

I love the plant world. The world of plants. Even the weeds. So dependable.

Did a face plant yesterday while on a break from my dance retreat. Bonked my knee and whacked my right hand, the middle finger swelling up just lovely. It's now taped to my index finger for stability, don't think I broke it but it's a pretty shade of purple and yellow.  Clinic on Monday will be interesting, right?

Sheesh. Not to mention various aches and pains from hitting the deck, or in this case, the sidewalk. This is when my children start talking about the retirement home.  Nu-uh, not going there, not yet.

Managed to make peanut butter cookies for a fellow dancer who has a recurrence of breast cancer, now metastasized. Shit. I talked with her today and offered my support. She has choices to make about treatments and meds and so forth. Saw another friend who was heading off to the annual Pisces party (too tired to go and dancing again tomorrow) and she's about to be 79. I noticed a hearing aid in her ear and wondered about her white even teeth.

Lordy.

My finger hurts if I move it the wrong way.

Dears-back from the ocean and the most amazing weather:

 It was sunny and clear with beautiful night skies and a full moon.

Understand. Here in the North country, we suit up for inclement weather; big boots, long underwear, full length raincoats. So a few days like these were a miracle.

I even got a speeding ticket and didn't flinch (well, a bit) but everyone needs to make a living.

I cried a bunch, because the earth was so perfect and the water so blue. I cried about dogs who don't have kind owners and for homeless people. Holly was with me and she didn't look at me funny. She left me alone and didn't ask dumb questions.

Felix ran his feet off and woke us at first light.

The place where we stayed had a pool and a hot tub which we got to use all by ourselves. We stayed in the funky cabins built in the '50's. There was a wee kitchen, a bed room for each of us and a fireplace.

The house is a bit more done. The plumber was here today and there is a new hot water heater in the basement waiting to be installed. Hoo-boy.

Holly scattered ashes of her old dog and her last kitty in the Pacific. She found a blue shovel that she brought home. Tomorrow is dancing retreat. Lynn leaves in two weeks for five weeks and my days of play will be over until she gets back.

Bring on the babies.

Off to the ocean for a few days. I found a cheap cabin with a kitchen (!) so we can cook and make hot chocolate. The resort has a pool and a hot tub too, yeah!!! We're not staying in the fancy condos but in the funky 'original' cabin and we can bring the dawg.

It's gonna be freezing but who cares.

I look like I'm prepared for the Great Flood. I bought my book reference material, all the dharma study group readings, a few random books, a little docking thingy for my ipod (gotta have music) and my computer. Oh and food, a toothbrush and warm clothes. My favorite tea. Socks.  Vodka, lemonade and spritzer.

For two days. I don't care. I haven't been able to have silence for months so I'm going to make the most of it. Dammit.

Had a party for the pisces. There were at least five of us in my hippy dance church group. So we had music and dancing, natch, and a vegan, gluten free birthday cake, surprisingly good. Lovely time. Even drank champagne.

The ocean, the ocean. And the lighthouses at the mouth of the Columbia. The ocean puts everything in perspective.