Friday, December 30, 2011
Maya and I went to uh, a dance thing called Ecstatic Dance, which happens, apparently, every week. People come together to dance for an hour and a half to world music, blues music, etc. And it is a community. She's been dancing in San Rafael so she found a group here and she convinced me to go.
I sat on the side as people trickled in. Low lights. A large shiny new dance floor. Women in floaty skirts. Men in loose pants. Stretching and chatting. Then the music started, slow at first. The old hippe in me compelled me to get up and start to sway. Midway through, the music was jumping and so was I, sweat splatting to the floor. Then the music slowed down again until we were finished. Maya hopped around, bobbing and jumping.
I have no idea what happened. I might go back. I love to dance and I never do anymore. Except in my living room.
Cleaning the house after the family leaves. And a solitary walk.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Then I decided I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay in my bathrobe and read the paper from yesterday instead of breaking my leg in a sledding accident (or standing around in the cold watching others hurtling along and banging into each other).
Eden gave us the most beautiful photo of swimmers, wavery and blue and ghostly shapes. Dreamers in the water.
Last night was grand. Eden trashed the kitchen with her wild cooking. Nothing was safe, not even the ceiling. I was the dishwasher/counter clearer. Somehow, this morning the kitchen looks normal.
They'll come home later and eat leftovers. I think I'll make them a giant stew for dinner. Or my special lasagna. Or perhaps I'll do nothing at all today.
Right now, it's the katz and me. And the New York Times.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
The pattern is called 'birds in flight'. Fitting, don't you think?
I topstitch my quilts by hand. I know, I know, all those fancy sewing machines can stitch on quilts now. I see them all the time. They're cheating. The pleasure of quilting is quilting, holding the quilt on your lap and making each stitch by hand, thimble on your middle finger to push through the layers and pricking your fingers under the quilt to know you're all the way through. I've ended up with scarred fingers on my left hand after a long quilt making.
All my children have quilts I've made. I wanted one for myself. It's so many hours...
I have a partially made quilt waiting for me. Guess I'll get it out and begin again.
Sometime, visit a quilt show with quilts from long ago. Marvel at the hours and miles of thread. In the day, women quilted 12 stitches-10 stitches to the inch. A lot of stitches. And many spools of thread. Quilts were made at 'bees'. Quilts were made alone. Women would make a quilt with clothes from someone who died. To mourn. To remember.
Friday, December 23, 2011
This is what I love. Della is at least an hour old. We're doing her newborn exam.
Tomorrow the younger child arrives, trailing clouds of glory. I'm in awe of my children. They are beautiful and talented and so much more hip than I'll ever be. Ever.
Tonight the final two episodes of Dexter with my neighbors. We shriek and groan and hide our eyes. Naughty fun. A serial killer with a tender side. Just in time for xmas!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
They were set here on this earth to DRIVE US CRAZY. It's working.
A tiny rant. I only subscribe to one magazine, The Sun. It's gloomy, the writing is often brilliant, there aren't any ads and the editor also publishes black and white photos. I've submitted poetry and a short story three times, to no avail.
This am while lounging in bed, I read Sy's notebook (the ed.) and he mentioned that he uses viagra, or the generic brand. Eesh. I don't care about this. Save it for some other publication, mister. I know he can write (and publish) whatever the hell he wants but jeez. he often talks about making love to his wife. That part is ok. It's the mention of drugs to 'enhance' that bothers me to beat the band (as my mother would say). Perhaps I'm channeling my mother this morning. In her world, such things were impolite. In poor taste.
Gawd. Maybe I'm turning into my mother.
The sun is out again so I'm going for a walk in the cold. We have sun this winter, very odd. Tomorrow, Holly and I will once again go hiking on Tiger Mountain. We found a trail called the Meandering Trail. We're gonna find out if it goes to the top. Or not. we're not goal oriented. We talk along the way about Buddhism and her ex girlfriend. At some point we decide to turn around. And hikers are usually a democratic bunch. No pushing and shoving. Unlike swimmers. Male swimmers. They have something to prove. They splash and knock you on the head as they pass. Because. They have to get to---the other side of the pool?? Whoa, as Keanu Reeves has so famously said in The Matrix.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Every year (almost) I sing in the sing-along Messiah at the Unitarian church where they pray to the Unit. They are nice people, social justice and all, really very nice people. But kinda boring. I tried to go there for a while. They had great music and (snore) sermons and a whole lot of nice people. But. My darkness was too dark. Buddhism is dark and difficult, much better for me. Those retreats I go on...they're not like a sunny picnic day. You sit in a room with other silent people. For 45 minutes. Then the bell rings.
Then you walk outside for a while. Then you come back in and sit down for another 45 minutes. Repeat until mealtime or bedtime. The demons come, yes they do.
So the Unitarians weren't MY people, you know? However, they bake roomfulls of cookies and they make hot cider for all the singers who show up. We sing all the parts and there is an orchestra too with little kids on violin and a kazoo player and a trumpeter who mangles 'The Trumpet Shall Sound.' And there's a raffle and door prizes and it lifts my heart, it does, to fill up a room with glad shouting. I don't even mind that I'm among strangers. And I lose my place. And I can't sing very well. It's democratic. Just join in.
Oh, and the director is hot. That certainly helps.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
They all wanted an instant peer group.
Today we put up a tree in the house, the first time I've had a tree in ages. It's such a mess of needles but the guy at the tree place managed to put the tree in the back of my wee car so I didn't have to worry about it falling off the hood and causing a collision and ruining someone's Saturday with dented cars and the police and the like.
I bought Deb's 23 yo son a flying helicopter that runs on batteries. The boy toy department is so weird with transformers (?) and all manner of guns and space aliens.
I went to the yarn store yesterday and next door was a gamer place and there was a huddle of young people in black commiserating about some dark game. The girl among them was wearing six inch high boots and a a purple dress and a pointy-hemmed black coat. The boys just looked like geeks. But online they are flying wizards with impressive magic swords and mythical beasts who zap the giant sand spiders and segmented fanged worms. I had The Jungle Book and Little Women as a kid. However, my parents bought several books of Greek and Roman mythology which I read, because I read everything in the house. Medusa was a pretty mean gal, what with turning folks into stone and even in death, growing cacti in the desert from blood dripping from her neck.
I still wish I could fly.
The whole family arrives on the 25th. Then the house will be stuffed full of people and noise and food. We'll eat together and play Apples to Apples and visit the house around the corner with the zillion lights running on a generator and go to the mountains so we can play in the snow. Maya will cut my hair. I'll get to hug and kiss my dear ones with missing them mixed in because we don't see each other enough, ever.
Push the sadness down into a corner, at least for a while.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
It's beautiful fog and dim lights now.
We'll never get a tree for the house at this rate. I'm planning to spend more time in bed. It is SO inconvenient to be sick
Friday, December 16, 2011
the fam comes next week. My younger has informed me she'd like a slouchy knitted hat, just finished the socks/hand warmers for the older child. Sigh. So I'll go get some wool and whip up a hat...no problem.
However, there are two women in labor today and I might have to prop myself up and go to a birth, snuffling and cough-y and all. Cough drops. A face mask. Inspires confidence for sure.
It's midday but I'm gonna sleep in case I'm called away. In my clothes.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Monday, December 05, 2011
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
This is where Holly and I hiked today. Deb stayed home with the cats. Holly and I found a little tree decorated with Christmas ornaments. We had the wobbly legs on the way back. Sometimes we want to hike for hours but we're too weak. I'm just grateful I can still be outside crossing streams and standing among the trees.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
So this is where we were today. We went to the pass but, silly us, there was snow. Duh. No driving in snow. No snowshoes. Not enough warm clothes. We came back down the pass and found a secret trail we named after ourselves. We allowed other hikers to use it because we're like that. Magnanimous. We don't allow poaching, however.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Monday, November 07, 2011
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Today was a most beautiful day. I walked and walked along the lake in the clear air and sun and leaves all colors I felt like walking far away to Tacoma or Oregon or Marin County to see my daughter or farther to LA to see my other daughter. I could walk forever. Until my feet fell off. Or the blisters came. And the streets would be lined with people cheering me on and feeding me cheesecake and root beer. Like Peace Pilgrim or the guy who runs all night with a cell phone and money. He calls ahead and orders pizza and eats it while he's running. When the sun comes up, he calls his wife to come get him (wherever he is). He runs a hundred miles.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The third miracle
Get the monster out of your body
something's not right
sky hidden behind an ominous slick
my face has slid onto the dash
the cats float
their shiny pads illuminate the night
a poisoned retinue
remind me how we arrived on this island
did we fly or swim
my body transparent
are we orphans now
who will take in the mail
thickets perfume the verge
drift toward a lighted caravan
in silk slippers and a course necktie
watch slap slip behind a painted curtain
it's not how I was conceived
management has closed the museum
wings untether from the lacquered passenger pigeons
they are flying toward the speckled windows
we fall back into their angelic arms
rise into the dusty light
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Sunday, October 09, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
For some reason I'm thinking about Steve Buscemi an actor I've loved ever since I saw a movie called Parting Glances about the AIDS epidemic before AZT and having HIV was pretty much a death sentence and my friends were dying and we were helping them to die taking them to the doctors and the hospital and standing by the bed when they turned off the machines and watching the heart monitor go dark and flat and Steve played the part of an HIV positive gay man and he was so manic and clever and ghostly and funny videoing himself for his family while hitting himself on the head with a big dildo I have watched that movie about one hundred twelve times I don't know why I'm thinking about that movie tonight but I am.
Friday, September 09, 2011
Monday, September 05, 2011
Saturday, September 03, 2011
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Today was our Rainier Community festival and parade. AND because we're 98118, the most diverse hood in the COUNTRY, ahem, we went down there in the heat. We heard Eretrian music and watched women dancing in their long veils. We watched the Aztec dancers with massive feathered headdresses. And several Mexican dancers from different areas of Mexico. We heard the Vietnamese national anthem and watched women dressed like flowers and butterflies swaying and gliding in circles.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
All the babies are fat and happy, spitting up and burbling in their leetle shorts.
Another day in midwife land...there's a massive pileup of babies itchin' to come on out. I'm gonna go gird my loins ( I first typed girl my loins, maybe that's the right expression) with a walk and a shower and a wait by the phone.
The katz are rolling and play-fighting in the garden. Then they come in and get twigs and dirt all over the comforter, which is white. Never have white stuff in a cat house. It's a dumb idea.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
Then he got in his leetle blue car and went home. He is dear and beautiful and I only wished I'd met him about 30 years ago.
The sky is gray and pink and closing in. The clothes on the line will just have to dry tomorrow.
I just read the first Dexter book. Definitely not Buddhist. I basically couldn't put it down. I read so fast my eyes swam over the words, like Nancy Drew books when I was a kid. The equivalent of hopping from one foot to the other, real fast.
I made beet/carrot/apple salad from our beets (!).
One or two beets
A few carrots
Apple cider vinegar
Grate the beets and carrots. Cut the apple up fine. Mix together. Add a splash of vinegar and a bit of olive oil. Add salt to taste. Throw on chopped dill, about a tablespoon.
Check your tongue and hands for brilliant beet color.
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Saturday, August 06, 2011
I've returned from the wilds of Vader, Washington along the Cowlitz River and the train tracks and the deer and raccoon and the dharma hall and my musty little cell and terrible food (gruel) and a nameless pond where I saw g-d. Well, I saw teeny fish and salamanders and two kinds of water striders and dragon flies and koi and polliwogs and and a blooming waterlily. I lay on my back and watched how the undersides of the leaves rippled when the reflected sunlight hit them while the bugs made overlapping circles on the surface of the water. Raccoons visited at the water's edge. A kingfisher came to fish. A hawk sat in a snag at the other end of the water. I became four years old, completely absorbed.
Then I came home and hugged my sweetie for about a whole day.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Monday, July 04, 2011
Saturday, July 02, 2011
Friday, July 01, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
After my bike ride today, when I was all stinky and sweaty, I stopped by the nail place and had my toenails painted for $17. They're pink. I was thinking about Radish the whole time and wishing her toes could soon have a 'treatment'. And, of course, I got caught up on my pseudo-stars and their 3 million dollar dresses and their abs and boob jobs and so forth. Where would we be without People?
Anyway, the lady painting my toes was probably saying to the other employee, "Dang, this white lady sure smells and she hasn't shaved her legs and eewwwww". I mean, are we supposed to shower and shave before we go to the nail place?
My children once told me they had to learn about make-up from OTHER PEOPLE because I was such an au natural hippy.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
I go on call tomorrow.
At night, very late, I go outside to walk on the cold grass and sit with my garden. Even in the dark, the peonies are open.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
There are men swarming the deck. Sean amassed a crew. Banging and pounding and power saw noises. My back and neck need attention from the car accident. It's hard to turn my head to the right, difficult to look behind me when I park.
I'm going to offer the banging men some beer. The day is brilliant and the red head has a terrific sun burn. And no hat. Sheesh. Soon, I will have a deck that won't kill anyone. Sturdy and strong and handsome. Like my son-in-law. And one day, my grandson, Milo.
Uh-oh, cursing from the yard. I hope there is no blood. I better check. I'll wait on the beer...
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Ive been dreaming a lot. In one dream we were being chased by a bear. We locked ourselves into a triangularly shaped chicken coop. It was very crowded. We were all pressed together. The bear wasn't fierce, just intelligent. He was examining the fastener on the door of the coop, made of chicken wire and bits of wood (pretty flimsy, if you ask me). Then we were running down a steep meadow, brilliant with wild flowers. The bear was chasing us. I felt that we should be quick because the bear might want to eat us so there was a sense of urgency. Then I woke up and thought about bears, how beautiful and strong they are.
I was cooking dinner by the tide line in Glacier Bay, Alaska. We were on a kayaking trip. My companion said very conversationally, "Uh, about 200 feet in front of you is a bear." Indeed. She was sniffing the air and looking about for the cooking smell. I threw dinner into the water, gathered up the rest of the food and backed away. We put stones in the cook pots and banged them together and talked loudly. The bear drifted off into the bushes.
Later that night, as I tried vainly to go to sleep, I thought about the bear, the natural world and what wildness really is. Wildness in the heart of us, wildness with prickers and claws and blood and teeth. Wild wildness.
Thursday, June 09, 2011
A friend left an invitation on my door to come hear her read from her NOVEL. I might go and hear her because I am a friend of the arts and only a wee bit jealous. I'll try to dim my green glow and applaud politely at the right moments.
I am nearing the point where I unfurl a large canvas, cover it with gesso and begin to noodle with glop and paint. It has been percolating for several weeks and it is time.
Other than that, I will continue to remain relaxed and dreamy. Productively dreamy.
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
Sean says because my car has been in (count'em) three accidents, we're done. No more trips to the collision place where I am on a first name basis with everyone.
Is my car jinxed? Ok, time to haul out the incantations and smudge and feathers and pink light aura. Build a healing globe of spooky illumination around the force field. Park under a pyramid.
Or maybe get huge headlights and massive speakers coming out of the roof with noises of a thousand starlings.
Or buy a giant truck and jack up the wheels so I need a step stool to get in. Or ride a horse.
I like the horse idea. Where are my riding boots and crop? Plus, horses are beautiful and smart.
I'll call mine True Blue and I'll be Miss Lois. With a cowboy hat. And fringe.
Monday, June 06, 2011
Then the husband appears and he's accusing me of being anti-social (?) and they have to go pick up their kid, don't I care about their kid??? Well, don't I? I spent some time thinking about this. I am a midwife and I spent the morning with students teaching them to extract a stuck baby in a simulation lab. I do care about kids, generally.
But. Half of my car in in the road and I don't think I can drive it very far with the bumper mashed up against the tire. So, as you see, I feel conflicted. I call my insurance company and listen to their sorry noises until we get to the confirmation number, which is many numbers long. I'm beginning to feel decidedly fuzzy when I remember I'm on call and there are a few calls to clients I need to make. "Hi, tell, me what's going on, oh, I'm waiting for the police to arrive so I can get a tow and a rental car, then I'll be all set for your birth." Sheesh.
The nice policeman arrives and finds out the lady is driving with s suspended license and no insurance. Again, I feel for them-poor people in a busted Caddy with the bumper hanging off. I get to drive to my collision place after the cop jimmies the bumper with a crow bar, get my rental (a giant Buick for g-ds sake) and they go off with a citation and a ticket and more to follow from my insurance.
Now I'm on the couch with an ice pack on my neck. I'm hoping they got their kid ok and nobody goes to jail. As they were leaving, the lady came over and apologized to me. It really isn't personal. She's not drunk or on drugs. She's just poor and can't get a break.
I downloaded all of the Glee songs and that's what I'm gonna listen to. Show tunes. Well, I am an honorary faggot so I get to.
My honey is coming home with dinner and her strong hands. Sometimes I feel incredibly lucky.