My older child arrives on Saturday this week. We just talked about wearing masks around each other and staying separate. I feel fortunate that I have enough rooms so she can be away from me. We're planning to spend time outdoors, meals, hiking and camping. I will follow her down to southern Oregon to a lovely campground where we will meet up with a friend of hers and her mom. To say I am excited is putting it mildly. She's worried about leaving San Rafael while California is in a terrible state. Some of my friends in Santa Cruz have had to evacuate. I even called Randy, my dog guy, to take Felix. I thought about taking him with me but when I realized he'd have to be on a leash and in my tent at night barking and woofing, I thought, shite, he's staying home. He loves Randy's house where he can GET ON THE BED AND THE COUCH AND WRANGLE WITH  OTHER DOGS ALL DAY. 

BTW, Randy fell off his roof and broke his neck and back. Good gawd, he's getting around with a brace. I thought you were just a goner if you did that. Who knew. Anyway, he stopped over with his husband Stewart and hold the phone, Stewart is gorgeous. Thick white hair, big handsome smile, former model and actor. Hubba hubba. 

These days I'm meeting Clark for an early morning swim. We have a place. No one is in the water and the water is, um, rather cold. But it feels great and then I'm cold for about three hours. The leaves are already starting to fall so our swimming days are numbered. But o, it is so wonderful to see Clark. I love him so. He's funny and sweet and covered with ink and from Nebraska where he had to get out because of his queerness. And his baritone voice is glorious. He sings and plays the piano. I have gay men everywhere and I feel so lucky. 

Back working on my book/paper/article whatever I am doing. Secondary trauma, lightweight topic. I write for a while and then I have to go shake it out or dance or sing or eat chocolate. I'm working from interviews and they are just heartbreaking. I see each woman as I read, telling her story. We are so resilient and we're so tender. I always come away feeling so honored to know these smart and vulnerable women. Each story is our collective story.

I signed up to call potential voters to encourage early ballots and ( of course) the Dem ticket. I was a miserable failure. I attended the training and they went through it way to fast for my old brain. Way. Too. Fast. I gave up after 15 minutes today. I'm not giving up for good, just for today. Technology and I are not friends. Talk about the most important election of our lifetime, or maybe any lifetime. I will not dwell on the RNC fiasco that is currently the news (sic). Not watching. 

Just got a book from Powells bookstore in Portland. If you don't want to give Bezos any more $, buy independent. The Pull of the Stars by Emma Donoghue. A nurse during the flu pandemic in the maternity ward....

Reading the 4th book in the Outlander series. I swear, it's soft porn mixed with history. Doesn't get better than that. I learned that the origin of a burning cross came from the Scottish highlands, nothing to do with terrorism and Black people. It was a way to signal the clans because, well, no cell phones in the 11th century. 

May we all be safe and protected today. May Joe Biden be elected in November. Clark studies archangels-maybe Michael, the healer and leader against the forces of evil can help us. 

I'm being nonsectarian here. Whatever can help us, ok? 

Well the injured dog has an owner and  he/she showed up to claim him. I, of course, have a lot of judgements about the owner but what do I know.

I am now reduced to watching romantic comedies and they are mostly dreadful. I mean, what's with finding your true love to only have them get hit by a truck and die? Seriously. 

A few friends and I are going to watch Cats out on the deck next Saturday. The reviews alone will make it worth it. 

https://digg.com/2019/bad-reviews-cats-movie

And the list of actors! Judi Dench! Idris Elba! Taylor Swift! 

Tis the time to swim daily in the lake. I have found a new beach where there are ducks that paddle among the swimmers.

Recently found this artist in a bad romantic comedy. Beautiful voice and mean guitar.

 

 Kenny, my neighbor, found an injured dog on his porch early this morning. He went to let out one of his dogs and this guy was lying there. Kenny called me this morning after he called animal control so I went over to see. A big pit bull male still intact with cuts and scrapes. Massive face. The saddest eyes. Not able to walk very well, maybe something wrong with his spine. No chip. 

Maybe a car hit him. Maybe he was in a fight. 

We stood around him while the animal control folks got him on a doggie stretcher and got him into their truck. I just heard they went right to the ER with him. 

I'm not about to lecture anyone who isn't a vegetarian. My father grew up on a farm and he hunted and fished and we ate whatever he brought home. Not everyone can be healthy on  a vegetarian diet. I'm not about to judge. 

What I would rather say is that as long as I can remember, my heart moves toward  and was moved by non humans. Baby birds, worms, bats, spiders, snakes. I really don't have a memory of recoiling when I encountered the wild varieties of life on this earth. Instead I was intrigued, curious and empathetic. Maybe that sounds weird but there it is. Kinship, I felt (and still feel) kinship. We're all trying to make our way, being moved by our destiny, whether we are ants or anteaters, a fallen sparrow or a red-tailed hawk. My dad loved nature shows-The Wild Kingdom comes to mind and I loved them too. 

I have a similar relationship with plants. I fuss over my house plants. I rejoice when the garden grows peas and spinach. There is a sense of gratitude for the interconnectedness of my life and the lives of other living things. 

So a big wounded dog on Kenny's kitchen floor this morning made his silent appeal. Which I heard. We all want to be safe and pain-free. We want care and tenderness. We want enough nourishment, food and light. We all love our lives, no matter how humble. The humming birds come to the feeders every day. Felix has his own mysterious ways. The bumble bees outside the window where I sit in morning meditation sleep all night inside the shelter of the flowers. 

Tonight I can wish the big buddy well. May he be safe and warm. May he be treated with kindness. And if he is irrevocably injured, may his death be peaceful. 

 My children are coming to Seattle in September to see me!!!! I can hardly wait. I suggested that they get tested before they leave and then we can hang out together without masks. Or whatever. 

I'll sleep on the deck and they can have the house. I don't care. We can cook and play Rummikub and go for hikes and just be in each other's company. Of all the hardships in my very privileged life, being separated from them is the hardest. It's an actual pain in my heart. There is a thing called 'broken heart syndrome'. 

Apropos of nothing, I have lost almost 10 pounds. My 'third' boob under my real boobs is almost gone and everything feels loose. I actually didn't even finish a chocolate cupcake yesterday. Besides my vanity, the last blood test I had I was 'pre diabetic' and my triglycerides were in the stratosphere. I haven't checked again but after I lose another 10 (!?), I will. If I weigh 130, I'll be back to the weight I was in my 40's. Even now, I haven't weighed this little since then. Plus if I have knee surgery, weighing less is easier on my joints. 

There is the lake mystery. Two folded towels with car keys underneath and a pair of women's Tevas have been in the same spot for 6 days where I go swim. I finally called 911 and they asked if I could see a dead body floating in the water (ew, gross!!!!) Um, no! I would have been reporting that and not some random towels and keys. Someone else called about the towels/keys but there they remain. When I go today, I'll check again. Weird. 

As you may know, I have a dance practice. It's all online now but I do it anyway.

Dance class

The teacher won't stop talking talking talking

when we come here to move our limbs

shake off sleep

anxiety

dreams torn from nightmare pages

she keeps talking

a voiceover explains kinetics    emotional tailings

mute music    strings sob in the background

the beat the beat

someone sings from a hillside

we can feel the sighs of the Adriatic

let us go

please

let this body flow towards the timeless

where there is no language

where we float weightless

astronauts within sight of the furthest moon

Yesterday I made applesauce with blackberries mixed in. And blackberry jam. And elderberry syrup. A regular farm wife I am. Now to start apple butter. 

Peaceful Sunday everyone. 

Please enjoy these delightful twin brothers who are reviewing music videos they are too young to remember. They are hilarious. And there are a whole bunch of them; Prince, Stevie Wonder, Janis Joplin, Dolly Parton, Karen Carpenter and so many more. 

My very bad dog tore up the living room carpet, the kilim I bought with real money from a friend. I cut off all the long bits and vacuumed the fluff and you can hardly see the damage. But he is a bad dog and I don't know why he decided today was the day after I've had this carpet for MONTHS. Sometimes I despair of ever having stuff that hasn't been barfed on, clawed up, chewed up, etc. 

Remind me why we have animals, why???

I knew as soon as I opened the door that something was amiss. He looked...guilty. You know the look. He's like, uh oh, I think I did something I wasn't supposed to do, I just can't remember what, it was so long ago (like an hour). Jeezus Felix. 

My friend just moved into a houseboat. Super cool. I went over there and we talked about everything that needs fixing, sprucing up. Then we went for a swim, right off her dock. It doesn't get better than that. Well, it was hella expensive so I can only dream. But delighted for her good fortune. Some of us work for Microsoft. Some of us are midwives. 

I'm hoping it rains tonight so I don't have to water. A gardener's lament. 

                                                  The Very Bad Dog

My beautiful home.

I talked to my daughters and my grandson this morning. Milo showed me whiskers on his chin (!) and we talked about his girlfriend and the difficulties of relationships (!!!) I'm sure I never talked about birth control and the troubles couples have with my grandparents. I even reminded him that his brain/emotions aren't even fully developed and won't be for many more years. Oh my.

When my parents kicked me out of the house, I was about his age. Here is a boy who is loved and supported and listened to. He has become a caring and thoughtful young man and I can feel that even with the mistakes I made as a mother ( I regret how selfish I was), he has become the good man I hoped he would be. The injuries of our past can be mended. Trauma doesn't have to be passed on and on. And the regret I might feel now is pretty useless. And pointless. His mother and father have nurtured him so that he will have resilience when troubles come his way, as they surely will. 

As I crawl my way towards forgiveness for the past actions of those that were supposed to care for me, I would like to put down the stories that no longer serve. 

As we look towards another year, at least, of isolation we are given the opportunity to see what is important, most important. For now I make aprons for my girls so they can work, make blackberry jam and applesauce, water the garden, play the piano, clean the house, make art and wander through the forests of the Northwest. And I give thanks for the trees and creatures. The lakes and streams. The birds. 

My hiking buddy bailed but I'm going anyway. Mason Lake in the Cascades. Apparently gorgeous views and wildflowers. A bit of a steep climb but that never stopped me before. It's still early and cool out. Felix saw the backpack and he knows what that means.

Water, cherries, nuts and two hard boiled eggs. And the 10 essentials and sunscreen. And hiking poles. I ain't vain.

This is an antidote to feeling so bla the last few days. Lonely. Sad. Grumpy. Missing my family!! So leaving the house of the blues and gonna go see about creation, constantly making and unmaking itself.

Peace out.

No wonder i didn't get the sweatshirt I ordered.

They sent it to my phone number.

See this? You can just make out Mt Rainier in the distance. It is a very tall mountain with glaciers and I have hiked and skied it many times. But that is not what I want to say. Two days ago I went to this spot and strode (is that a word?) into the water with my water shoes, bathing suit, earplugs and cap and I swam way out the the buoy and then I just stayed in the deep and beautiful water for a while. I haven't swum since March. It was sheer heaven, warm in spots, cold in spots.

And the water held me and touched me all over. I hope I never take swimming for granted again. it is the most liberating and profound experience. As I said to myself, it's better than sex or chocolate cake. We are formed in water inside our mothers. Every time I step into deep water, I'm home.

We danced on Sunday and dedicated the practice to John Lewis.



Then the teacher played this song by Patty Griffin. I just lost it.

I think there is a build-up of grief, many lifetimes of grief. If we have genetic memory, the injustices we've seen and felt in our hearts and carried throughout our lives, they are so many and so deep. That's not even a proper sentence but who cares

And so I cried all morning. For all of us. Mr Lewis led an exemplary life. He wasn't a saint, he was a human man who put himself in harm's way many, many times. And there are so many more of us stepping out to confront the oppression and confusion in each other.

My brother came and went yesterday, flying back from Alaska with halibut that he caught.As I dropped him off at the airport, he turned and said, "We didn't talk about politics at all!". And them he said, "All the middle-class white people have to get off their asses and vote".

This from my brother who is suddenly a bit woke.

Sometimes we can be there for a miracle. Or maybe I never really noticed. No matter.

I must honor the sorrow and let it move me. There is always more to do.