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.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Saturday, May 09, 2015
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.
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.
Friday, May 08, 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 06, 2015
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.
Saturday, May 02, 2015
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:
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.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
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.
Friday, April 17, 2015
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.
Love.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, April 04, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, April 02, 2015
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
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
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
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
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.
- 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.
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.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, March 07, 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 04, 2015
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.
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.
Monday, March 02, 2015
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.
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.
Friday, February 27, 2015
So some hackers calling themselves Mango.Com have managed to extricate about a thousand bucks from my account, leaving me in the red. The bank had kindly helped me to file a fraud report. I've already changed my card number. Fuckers.
Yesterday while I was lounging in the hot tub at my pool, the topic of *sex* cam up. And who is in the hot tub, you may ask? Two older Asian ladies, a man and a woman from Ghana, Arturo, my buddy, from Mexico and an older white guy with a skinny braid. And me, of course. All was well until the man from Ghana mentioned that Michael Douglas has said that his throat cancer was caused by oral sex.
Hoo-boy.
I did raise my voice while laughing at Arturo because he claims that his wife will come with him to the pool if she gets wind of what we're talking about.
Anyway, we were pretty rollicking and I asked one of the guards, in honor of my birthday, if he could bring some snacks and a glass of wine. He said he'd check with the kitchen. This is a city pool, people.
A bit later I noticed a red plastic glass of ice water by my elbow which he had apparently brought me. I shared it with Arturo and I put it down empty and it was magically filled again without me noticing.
They let us stay in the water for an extra 15 minutes.
That was the sweetest birthday party I've had in years. Ice water and arguing about oral sex causing cancer.
Today I came home after the contractors had left and there was a bunch of tulips on the table next to some fancy bakery thangs. From Rob.
Sweetness. O to feel loved.
Yesterday while I was lounging in the hot tub at my pool, the topic of *sex* cam up. And who is in the hot tub, you may ask? Two older Asian ladies, a man and a woman from Ghana, Arturo, my buddy, from Mexico and an older white guy with a skinny braid. And me, of course. All was well until the man from Ghana mentioned that Michael Douglas has said that his throat cancer was caused by oral sex.
Hoo-boy.
I did raise my voice while laughing at Arturo because he claims that his wife will come with him to the pool if she gets wind of what we're talking about.
Anyway, we were pretty rollicking and I asked one of the guards, in honor of my birthday, if he could bring some snacks and a glass of wine. He said he'd check with the kitchen. This is a city pool, people.
A bit later I noticed a red plastic glass of ice water by my elbow which he had apparently brought me. I shared it with Arturo and I put it down empty and it was magically filled again without me noticing.
They let us stay in the water for an extra 15 minutes.
That was the sweetest birthday party I've had in years. Ice water and arguing about oral sex causing cancer.
Today I came home after the contractors had left and there was a bunch of tulips on the table next to some fancy bakery thangs. From Rob.
Sweetness. O to feel loved.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
It's my birthday today and I'm going to the pool to sit in the hot tub and get away from the friggin' noise around here. Jim gave me a reckoning this morning. There's a lot still to do and the $$ has dribbled away. What to do now? I talked with my bookkeeper and she said to hang tight. Ok, and then hold up a bank.
However the plumber is here (in her Mercedes but who's noticing that?) and her helper who has a bit of 'chaw' in his mouth. Blech.
Remind me. Never ever do this again. Never. Again.
Meanwhile, I gotta figure out the kitchen because it is not good. As in ynet. Nada. Dreck. Ptooey. Etc. Right now I need a fairy godmother to leave a large bag of cash on my doorstep. And I'll keep the faith that when I need the dough, it will somehow magically appear.
Anxiety is so unpleasant. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. My lifelong friend, mental hand-wringing.
I would like a cocktail and a nice dinner tonight. I just might take myself out for that. And my sangha is tonight so maybe I'll take a cake and celebrate. My party is Saturday with my friends.
Ok, off to the pool for a lackadaisical swim and a hot tub with the folks.
Lordy.
However the plumber is here (in her Mercedes but who's noticing that?) and her helper who has a bit of 'chaw' in his mouth. Blech.
Remind me. Never ever do this again. Never. Again.
Meanwhile, I gotta figure out the kitchen because it is not good. As in ynet. Nada. Dreck. Ptooey. Etc. Right now I need a fairy godmother to leave a large bag of cash on my doorstep. And I'll keep the faith that when I need the dough, it will somehow magically appear.
Anxiety is so unpleasant. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. My lifelong friend, mental hand-wringing.
I would like a cocktail and a nice dinner tonight. I just might take myself out for that. And my sangha is tonight so maybe I'll take a cake and celebrate. My party is Saturday with my friends.
Ok, off to the pool for a lackadaisical swim and a hot tub with the folks.
Lordy.
Monday, February 23, 2015
Sometimes I get so tired keeping it all going. By myself. The business of midwifery is a chore and mostly other people do it; my bookkeeper and my biller. Last year we made less money. Worrisome when I feel like we did the same amount of work with many clients. But. The insurance companies want to pay us less (!) and nickel and dime us.
Then the house weighs on me . When will it be done? How much more will it cost and where will I get extra $$ to finish it?
Low level anxiety grinding and grinding.
I will go to the UK this summer, somehow.
I guess I wish I had someone else to share financial burdens with. My staff was understanding when I told them they might have to wait for their entire paycheck until later in the month.
I am doing my best to be debt free and able to live on a reduction in my own salary and whatever SS gives me (ha!) so that retirement is possible.
Worry, worry, like a mouse nibbling away at night. I can hear it but can't find it.
Meanwhile the sun is flashing and waking up the plants. A bit too early this year. Yesterday I saw a blooming star magnolia. Too early.
Poor Boston. Sheesh.
Then the house weighs on me . When will it be done? How much more will it cost and where will I get extra $$ to finish it?
Low level anxiety grinding and grinding.
I will go to the UK this summer, somehow.
I guess I wish I had someone else to share financial burdens with. My staff was understanding when I told them they might have to wait for their entire paycheck until later in the month.
I am doing my best to be debt free and able to live on a reduction in my own salary and whatever SS gives me (ha!) so that retirement is possible.
Worry, worry, like a mouse nibbling away at night. I can hear it but can't find it.
Meanwhile the sun is flashing and waking up the plants. A bit too early this year. Yesterday I saw a blooming star magnolia. Too early.
Poor Boston. Sheesh.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Went to the office for chart review today. We got done, Lynn had a few clients to see, the phone rang. I happened to pick it up and one of our clients said rather breathlessly, "Something might be happening, wee-ooo". She said "wee-ooo" every few minutes and Sara said, "um, they're every 2-3 minutes".
I had just finished admonishing us all that whenever we have clients who are having baby number 2-3-4, etc, we need to bust a move and get over there because they might go really fast. (we've missed two births recently). So to take my own advice, I yelled to Lynn that I was leaving to go to the mom and she yelled back that she was on her way. We passed several cops by the side of the road but they were all busy, hehe, and we blasted on up the freeway.
When we got into the house, the momma was doing dishes and wailing that she wasn't ready, she had too much to do. Her kids were milling around, a precocious girl and sweet boy we had also delivered. Then she went into the bedroom to make the bed ! while breathing and bending over with moans. Her husband was somewhere trying to get home. As soon as I could, I examined her and she was fully dilated with a bulging bag of water. We got equipment out, our student arrived (hurray!) and we got some pads under the mom and told her she could start pushing. About five pushes later, after the water broke all over the bed, she had her lovely wee girl. Her husband is from Burkina Faso and her kids are all gorgeous with curly dark hair and huge brown eyes. Whew.
Her husband arrived after the baby and eventually he held his new daughter. Their son went into the living room and fell asleep on the couch. We cleaned up the room, the bed and mom. We heated some food for her and fed her while she nursed her babe. We gave them our usual instructions and made our leave.
I got home in time to walk through the park. By myself. In the growing dark listening to the geese talking to each other out on the water. I couldn't see them but I could hear them.
Tonight I give thanks for another safe delivery and for a loving family who welcomed another beloved child into their hearts. May it be so for all babies everywhere.
I had just finished admonishing us all that whenever we have clients who are having baby number 2-3-4, etc, we need to bust a move and get over there because they might go really fast. (we've missed two births recently). So to take my own advice, I yelled to Lynn that I was leaving to go to the mom and she yelled back that she was on her way. We passed several cops by the side of the road but they were all busy, hehe, and we blasted on up the freeway.
When we got into the house, the momma was doing dishes and wailing that she wasn't ready, she had too much to do. Her kids were milling around, a precocious girl and sweet boy we had also delivered. Then she went into the bedroom to make the bed ! while breathing and bending over with moans. Her husband was somewhere trying to get home. As soon as I could, I examined her and she was fully dilated with a bulging bag of water. We got equipment out, our student arrived (hurray!) and we got some pads under the mom and told her she could start pushing. About five pushes later, after the water broke all over the bed, she had her lovely wee girl. Her husband is from Burkina Faso and her kids are all gorgeous with curly dark hair and huge brown eyes. Whew.
Her husband arrived after the baby and eventually he held his new daughter. Their son went into the living room and fell asleep on the couch. We cleaned up the room, the bed and mom. We heated some food for her and fed her while she nursed her babe. We gave them our usual instructions and made our leave.
I got home in time to walk through the park. By myself. In the growing dark listening to the geese talking to each other out on the water. I couldn't see them but I could hear them.
Tonight I give thanks for another safe delivery and for a loving family who welcomed another beloved child into their hearts. May it be so for all babies everywhere.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
In honor of Mz Moon
I found this on Betsy's blog and it was so fantastic, I brought it over here. Please read this. You know what this is. You've done this. It has a name!
The Southern Goodbye. We have to go out to the car and stand there and talk awhile and then eventually the leave-taker gets in the car but immediately rolls down the window so we can keep talking a little bit and also, so that the person not leaving can lean in and kiss the person who is and so forth and this takes quite awhile sometimes. I think there may actually be a required number of times to say, "I love you," before the person can actually drive off but we do not KNOW that number, we just feel it in our bones and must carry on until it's been fulfilled.
The Southern Goodbye. We have to go out to the car and stand there and talk awhile and then eventually the leave-taker gets in the car but immediately rolls down the window so we can keep talking a little bit and also, so that the person not leaving can lean in and kiss the person who is and so forth and this takes quite awhile sometimes. I think there may actually be a required number of times to say, "I love you," before the person can actually drive off but we do not KNOW that number, we just feel it in our bones and must carry on until it's been fulfilled.
Thank you, Mary.
Love from your friend Beth
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Still have a cold and now tomorrow is a clinic day. Always tricky to navigate coughing and blowing my nose while measuring bellies and chatting with the ladies.
I danced this morning anyway, can't miss my dance Sundays.
Rob and Jim are going to be gone all week so no loud noises from them. However the siding guys will be here and so will the plumber so if I hope to nap in the daytime, forget it. I'm very glad they are here, that we are this far along. I see a toilet and a bathtub in my future.
You know, silence is a beautiful thing. Whenever I think I would like to clarify my position, especially in relationships, its always better to keep my peace and shut up. No notes, no emails, no phone calls, no nothing. Of course there are times when I have to confront the issue if it is with a work-mate or some such. The wisdom of writing the rant, storing it somewhere for a long time, getting it out a year later to see what I wrote, that's the wise path. The feelings aren't so strong, the stories can fade (what were we arguing about?) and then bare attention can come forward.
Such stories I make up! And then I become indignant and self-righteous. Because I'm right, ok?Positively boring.
The Anthropology of Childhood: Cherubs, Chattel, Changelings is my next book. Just finished On Immunity by Eula Biss. What with the current raging about immunizations, I though I ought to have a nuanced perspective.
I'm going to take my snotty self to bed. Or as Scrooge said in A Christmas Carol, "I think I'll retire to bedlam."
I danced this morning anyway, can't miss my dance Sundays.
Rob and Jim are going to be gone all week so no loud noises from them. However the siding guys will be here and so will the plumber so if I hope to nap in the daytime, forget it. I'm very glad they are here, that we are this far along. I see a toilet and a bathtub in my future.
You know, silence is a beautiful thing. Whenever I think I would like to clarify my position, especially in relationships, its always better to keep my peace and shut up. No notes, no emails, no phone calls, no nothing. Of course there are times when I have to confront the issue if it is with a work-mate or some such. The wisdom of writing the rant, storing it somewhere for a long time, getting it out a year later to see what I wrote, that's the wise path. The feelings aren't so strong, the stories can fade (what were we arguing about?) and then bare attention can come forward.
Such stories I make up! And then I become indignant and self-righteous. Because I'm right, ok?Positively boring.
The Anthropology of Childhood: Cherubs, Chattel, Changelings is my next book. Just finished On Immunity by Eula Biss. What with the current raging about immunizations, I though I ought to have a nuanced perspective.
I'm going to take my snotty self to bed. Or as Scrooge said in A Christmas Carol, "I think I'll retire to bedlam."
Thursday, February 12, 2015
People.
I stayed home today because I'm sick and tired after the last birth.
The contractors are here AND the siding guys AND the lady plumber. When I heard a woman's voice over the cacophony, I staggered out of bed to see who it was. And stood there swaying on the subfloors while they talked plumbing/joists/copper versus ?/didn't I have a sink picked out yet/etc.
My throat hurts. I'm tired but sleep is impossible. I'm getting a crown put on tomorrow at the dentist and I'm supposed to go see the Urban Bush Women with Holly.
The noise is amazing. This is the last time I ever remodel anything. Ever.
The siding guy said in the voice of DOOM, "Well you have asbestos under the plastic and the right way to get rid of it is to do an abatement with tenting the house and everyone in hazmat suits and so forth". And it's costly. I mentioned this to Jim and he said, 'what they do is mash it all up at the dump anyway after you're so careful to do all that at the house and it's stupid". I think what he really said is 'fucking stupid'.
Yesterday while feeling incipient illness, I went to the lady hot tub place and soaked and got a massage. It was heavenly even though I got sick anyway. There's no bathtub here so I felt like I deserved it.
This is pretty whiny. Lynn just called to say she missed a birth. Happens. Life rolls on. It's springtime warm here and my kaffir lily is going to bloom. She hasn't bloomed in many years so I think it's a sign. She's happy in her new home.
However, the word 'kaffir' is a derisive term for Black person, a South African racial slur. I've had this plant longer than any other as it was a wedding present in 1975. So that's 40 years.
Sheesh.
I stayed home today because I'm sick and tired after the last birth.
The contractors are here AND the siding guys AND the lady plumber. When I heard a woman's voice over the cacophony, I staggered out of bed to see who it was. And stood there swaying on the subfloors while they talked plumbing/joists/copper versus ?/didn't I have a sink picked out yet/etc.
My throat hurts. I'm tired but sleep is impossible. I'm getting a crown put on tomorrow at the dentist and I'm supposed to go see the Urban Bush Women with Holly.
The noise is amazing. This is the last time I ever remodel anything. Ever.
The siding guy said in the voice of DOOM, "Well you have asbestos under the plastic and the right way to get rid of it is to do an abatement with tenting the house and everyone in hazmat suits and so forth". And it's costly. I mentioned this to Jim and he said, 'what they do is mash it all up at the dump anyway after you're so careful to do all that at the house and it's stupid". I think what he really said is 'fucking stupid'.
Yesterday while feeling incipient illness, I went to the lady hot tub place and soaked and got a massage. It was heavenly even though I got sick anyway. There's no bathtub here so I felt like I deserved it.
This is pretty whiny. Lynn just called to say she missed a birth. Happens. Life rolls on. It's springtime warm here and my kaffir lily is going to bloom. She hasn't bloomed in many years so I think it's a sign. She's happy in her new home.
However, the word 'kaffir' is a derisive term for Black person, a South African racial slur. I've had this plant longer than any other as it was a wedding present in 1975. So that's 40 years.
Sheesh.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
You know, symptom suppression drugs REALLY WORK. I've been a hard liner for years, heat and cold, echinacea, elderberry syrup, immune tinctures and tonics, etc etc. And my colds have lasted forever, with a foghorn cough and general misery. If I'm getting sick this time, I'm using the evil day and night stuff. It's miraculous.
As I have gotten little sleep after the last baby blast (don't know why they insist on coming two or three at a time), my throat is scratchy and my nose drippy AND I have a bunch of things to do in the next few days. Dentist, visit the legislature, no Valentines' Day date-yes, you heard me, that's off. Back to the drawing board. I think as we age we get wiser but apparently not. And I don't have to worry about getting gussied up.
I'm fine, I really am fine. I notice when I'm not thinking about romance or getting close to someone in that kind of way, I'm perfectly happy. Then I notice the anxiety and self-judgment and other BS that creeps in when I'm contemplating being with someone. Yuck. It's a lot of stress. And if I'm destined for one more go at the relationship thang, I'd like it to be, well not perfect, but pretty close. I mean, laughing would be excellent, as would ease and joy.
As I have gotten little sleep after the last baby blast (don't know why they insist on coming two or three at a time), my throat is scratchy and my nose drippy AND I have a bunch of things to do in the next few days. Dentist, visit the legislature, no Valentines' Day date-yes, you heard me, that's off. Back to the drawing board. I think as we age we get wiser but apparently not. And I don't have to worry about getting gussied up.
I'm fine, I really am fine. I notice when I'm not thinking about romance or getting close to someone in that kind of way, I'm perfectly happy. Then I notice the anxiety and self-judgment and other BS that creeps in when I'm contemplating being with someone. Yuck. It's a lot of stress. And if I'm destined for one more go at the relationship thang, I'd like it to be, well not perfect, but pretty close. I mean, laughing would be excellent, as would ease and joy.
Sunday, February 08, 2015
Which of these persons should NOT be nursing off the BVM (blessed virgin Mary)?
This is my current kitchen:
And this is my current bathroom:
And this is my current bathroom:
How does she do it, you ask?
Easy. You make sure the lights are off. You hold the yogurt container underneath your pee area. Then wipe. Drop the toilet paper in the garbage can (see by the counter) and you dump the pee in the empty sink, then rinse with hot water until the next time. For uh, solids, you climb down the ladder into the basement where the SCARY toilet is with the freezing cold toilet seat. Or you hold it until you get to the gym.
My actual living space has gotten smaller and smaller. And Hugo was gone for two nights. He's back and hungry.
My living room smells strongly of wood smoke. As the fireplace is the main source of heat, no wonder.
My birthday will be celebrated at Peggy's house because my house is, well, see above. There are several Pisces so we'll have a joint party for all of us. I hope there will be dancing and general merriment. Oh, and a cocktail or two.
I have made two chocolate pound cakes and they are both miserable failures. If anyone reading this has a good recipe, please send it my way. The first one was way too dry and boring. The second one, sitting in my kitchen right now, is so heavy with butter and shortening, it's fairly dripping. ((sigh))
Justine didn't get a proper cake for her birthday and I'm gonna keep at it until I make her a good cake. Dammit.
I have a date for Valentine's Day and I intend to be properly kissed that night. And that is all. No more than that. I have made strong affirmations that I will not cause myself or anyone else undue suffering in the relationship department, ever again. No impulsiveness or bad choices. As I'm post menopausal, I'm much less inclined to jump on people for sex, caution be damned. I can actually be somewhat rational. I know, I know, the mysteries of love. Well, I'm gonna give this idea a try. Can't hurt and it helps me to be friends first and maybe something more than that later.
The real dilemma is: what shall I wear to dinner???
It's been so long since I've dressed up except to go to work. I'm out of practice. It won't do to show up in pajamas. And with my elegant living situation, it's so easy to find things and take baths (not!) and see myself in a mirror.
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
Today two babies about an hour apart and in two adjoining rooms at the birth center. We listened as the momma in the other room hollered and yelled-------and in that timeless space, we heard the baby crying. Our momma kept on, determined and sweating, and she did it with her sister and her husband around her. And her mother rushing into the room about 1/2 an hour after the birth.
Such a lovely pink boy she had. Lots of tears. And joy.
Lynn woke me at 6 AM and I was so confused, I couldn't understand what she was saying. An 8 AM appointment in the clinic and two moms in labor so I better get up and come on down. I asked "What time is it?" and "What day is it" trying desperately to remember what I had planned for the day (Is it Tuesday? Wednesday? ) in my very dark bedroom. I got up, put on my scrubs as I figured I might need to be suited up, as it were and headed out to the packed freeway. My one transgression was to take the HOV lane so I'd get there a bit faster.
After both babies were in their mother's arms, I passed Lynn in the hallway and she said, "Isn't this fun?" There are times when I love her so much; for her steadfast attention to our clients, her obvious love for the work and her cheerfulness. She is leaving for 5 weeks for a European adventure and I will surely miss her unflagging energy.
As a partner in this crazy business, I've finally found a gem.
Back at home with the creatures perched all around me.
A home visit tomorrow to see a 5 day old baby and then I must tend to my rambunctious dog. And study the suttas I signed up to study. This one is a long story which I'll save for later.
May all the babies let their parents sleep tonight on this full Leo moon.
Such a lovely pink boy she had. Lots of tears. And joy.
Lynn woke me at 6 AM and I was so confused, I couldn't understand what she was saying. An 8 AM appointment in the clinic and two moms in labor so I better get up and come on down. I asked "What time is it?" and "What day is it" trying desperately to remember what I had planned for the day (Is it Tuesday? Wednesday? ) in my very dark bedroom. I got up, put on my scrubs as I figured I might need to be suited up, as it were and headed out to the packed freeway. My one transgression was to take the HOV lane so I'd get there a bit faster.
After both babies were in their mother's arms, I passed Lynn in the hallway and she said, "Isn't this fun?" There are times when I love her so much; for her steadfast attention to our clients, her obvious love for the work and her cheerfulness. She is leaving for 5 weeks for a European adventure and I will surely miss her unflagging energy.
As a partner in this crazy business, I've finally found a gem.
Back at home with the creatures perched all around me.
A home visit tomorrow to see a 5 day old baby and then I must tend to my rambunctious dog. And study the suttas I signed up to study. This one is a long story which I'll save for later.
May all the babies let their parents sleep tonight on this full Leo moon.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Last night a bunch of us met at the U Lutheran Church for Teen Feed. We made a ridiculous (no really) amount of minestrone soup, salad, toasted cheese sandwiches and hot cider. And James baked 6 dozen cookies. And we fed the people. The beautiful people who came in and wanted this, but not that but please more hot apple cider and about 11 more cookies.
Look in their eyes and send them love. Feed them warm food. One lad came back for more soup and said, "it's cold out tonight'.
Yes, it is in January.
Bless them and keep them safe.
And we cleared out in time for the women to come in to sleep there. The homeless women.
I stop us now, wherever I am, with friends, lunch, dinner, wherever and ask that we remember those who aren't as fortunate as we to have food every day and a place to sleep that is warm and safe. Maybe just this day everyone can be safe and warm and fed.
I always wish I could do more. For now, this is enough.
Look in their eyes and send them love. Feed them warm food. One lad came back for more soup and said, "it's cold out tonight'.
Yes, it is in January.
Bless them and keep them safe.
And we cleared out in time for the women to come in to sleep there. The homeless women.
I stop us now, wherever I am, with friends, lunch, dinner, wherever and ask that we remember those who aren't as fortunate as we to have food every day and a place to sleep that is warm and safe. Maybe just this day everyone can be safe and warm and fed.
I always wish I could do more. For now, this is enough.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Today when I was having a shower, there was light coming through the wall over the tile and huge banging noises because Jim was ripping off the wall on the other side. A distinct feeling of impermanence, I'd say. The bathroom is about to be demolished. The basement bathroom will be my new bathroom until this one is finished. The basement bathroom is, um, scary. There is an interior door that opens into HELL where the sump pump lives, dirt and wires and the abyss. I have no idea how long I will be using this alternative bathroom. It's possible that I will go down there one day and and never be seen again.
In the meantime, I made a almond flour pear tart with hard pears that, of course, didn't get softer in the oven. So I pulled them off the tart and now I'm poaching them. My mother did not teach me to cook. I think she hated cooking. She cooked a million meals for seven people and she grew to hate it.
Tomorrow Holly and I go to our old standby Tiger Mountain but we're leaving early so we can finish a trail I found last year. It got dark before I got to the top and I want to get there this time. With homemade peanut butter cookies.
My dreams have been full of inappropriate sexual activities. With young men. Not teenagers, but definitely too young for me. By about 40 years.
Those parts of the brain never age, apparently.
In the meantime, I made a almond flour pear tart with hard pears that, of course, didn't get softer in the oven. So I pulled them off the tart and now I'm poaching them. My mother did not teach me to cook. I think she hated cooking. She cooked a million meals for seven people and she grew to hate it.
Tomorrow Holly and I go to our old standby Tiger Mountain but we're leaving early so we can finish a trail I found last year. It got dark before I got to the top and I want to get there this time. With homemade peanut butter cookies.
My dreams have been full of inappropriate sexual activities. With young men. Not teenagers, but definitely too young for me. By about 40 years.
Those parts of the brain never age, apparently.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Stormy Sunday with torrential rain, hail and rainbows. Oh, and wind. I drove through a puddle on the way to dance that I thought would be up to my car doors, giant splooshes on either side of the car.
On a day like this, I wish for all the homeless to have shelter and warmth. Dry socks. Hot chocolate.
Medicare and I are, apparently, best friends. They have sent me voluminous mail already. First they sent my premium, which I paid right away. Then they sent three letters informing me that I make more money than the 'no additional fee' people. And then they quoted me what my additional payments will be. There are a variety of amounts. $223.00. $104.00. Etc. These are for parts of Medicare because there are four parts. Part A, Part B, Part C (don't know what this actually is) and Part D, which is the prescription drug part. Woe betide you if you don't sign up for Part D initially and then need it later. You will be penalized. How's that for compassionate care?
I currently take no prescription drugs but one day I might. Who knows.
I read through their letters and I wonder how well others do with their nonsensical messages. I can read. I have glasses. I have my wits about me, more or less. I have a college degree. I have a computer where I can look things up. I went to s seminar where I presumably learned how to decipher all of the above. It's bullshit, I tell you. I am reminded of the room full of monkeys sitting at typewriters pecking away in the hopes that the next GAN (great American Novel) would be written by serendipity. And monkeys.
They have been sent to work for the government.
I'm giving all the mail to my bookkeeper. She is a sly genius and I have used her for all sorts of things. She could be an advice columnist. At least she understands the ways of finance in my tiny midwifery world. Perhaps she can understand what the hell I'm being told to do. What do I owe, exactly?
And again, what about my neighbors around me who speak limited English? Who understand less about the benefits they are entitled to? The old man next door will be cared for by his son and daughter-in-law forever because that's how they roll in the Philippines. But the Vietnamese and Chinese who live farther down the street? What about them?
In the meantime, the Seahawks are losing in the playoffs and I could care less. I learned today that the broadcasts are about 2 hours but actual real play with real players running around and throwing the ball is 11 minutes.
Time for the Felix to have his outing. He's not half muddy enough and it's thundering out there. Now there are fireworks going on. Maybe the Hawks won after all. Sheesh.
Bless you, Casey, for all your work in the Sudan. Be well and be safe.
On a day like this, I wish for all the homeless to have shelter and warmth. Dry socks. Hot chocolate.
Medicare and I are, apparently, best friends. They have sent me voluminous mail already. First they sent my premium, which I paid right away. Then they sent three letters informing me that I make more money than the 'no additional fee' people. And then they quoted me what my additional payments will be. There are a variety of amounts. $223.00. $104.00. Etc. These are for parts of Medicare because there are four parts. Part A, Part B, Part C (don't know what this actually is) and Part D, which is the prescription drug part. Woe betide you if you don't sign up for Part D initially and then need it later. You will be penalized. How's that for compassionate care?
I currently take no prescription drugs but one day I might. Who knows.
I read through their letters and I wonder how well others do with their nonsensical messages. I can read. I have glasses. I have my wits about me, more or less. I have a college degree. I have a computer where I can look things up. I went to s seminar where I presumably learned how to decipher all of the above. It's bullshit, I tell you. I am reminded of the room full of monkeys sitting at typewriters pecking away in the hopes that the next GAN (great American Novel) would be written by serendipity. And monkeys.
They have been sent to work for the government.
I'm giving all the mail to my bookkeeper. She is a sly genius and I have used her for all sorts of things. She could be an advice columnist. At least she understands the ways of finance in my tiny midwifery world. Perhaps she can understand what the hell I'm being told to do. What do I owe, exactly?
And again, what about my neighbors around me who speak limited English? Who understand less about the benefits they are entitled to? The old man next door will be cared for by his son and daughter-in-law forever because that's how they roll in the Philippines. But the Vietnamese and Chinese who live farther down the street? What about them?
In the meantime, the Seahawks are losing in the playoffs and I could care less. I learned today that the broadcasts are about 2 hours but actual real play with real players running around and throwing the ball is 11 minutes.
Time for the Felix to have his outing. He's not half muddy enough and it's thundering out there. Now there are fireworks going on. Maybe the Hawks won after all. Sheesh.
Bless you, Casey, for all your work in the Sudan. Be well and be safe.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Dear hearts-we had three babies in 12 hours. And how did we do it, you ask. Well you may. While Sara and I were at the business end of a momma with about a 50 cent piece size of head showing, Lynn was texted us that two more women were cooking. That babe got delivered, a lovely big boy, I borrowed a shirt from grandma because mine was, um, a little goopy and we ran off into the night to baby number two while Lynn went to baby number three.
It's all good. Two boys, one girl. All is well.
I slept all night last night. My bed with the flannel sheets and the down comforter is the most heavenly bed in the world.
Whew.
And my house has some color. I'll get a picture up here soon. We talked about (wait for it) lighting, where, dimmer switches, what kind, etc.
It's actually getting done.
Heading for the delicious bed now. With hot chocolate.
It's all good. Two boys, one girl. All is well.
I slept all night last night. My bed with the flannel sheets and the down comforter is the most heavenly bed in the world.
Whew.
And my house has some color. I'll get a picture up here soon. We talked about (wait for it) lighting, where, dimmer switches, what kind, etc.
It's actually getting done.
Heading for the delicious bed now. With hot chocolate.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Sunday, January 11, 2015
True Life Stories
One of our mommas had her baby in 50 minutes this morning. Yes, that's all. Start to finnish. Her husband was putting the older kids in the car to drive all of them to the birth center and the momma was in the bathroom and whoops, out came the baby. It be's this way sometimes.
A wee girl.
Of course we missed it. I'm hoping they get right on the development of teleportation. Would really save time.
This morning at dance there was this gorgeous guy who was a remarkable dancer. We were all swooning. I'm not even straight but listen, human beauty is beauty all the same. And the way he moved, uh huh. Be still my beating heart.
(((((((sigh))))))
I'm not even sure he knows we were all gobsmacked. I mean, we were acting ridiculous. Maybe he goes around the world leaving everyone in a stunned state.
Languid. In thrall.
Peggy has agreed to host my birthday party. I have no decent house. And Sara has never had an adult birthday party and she's a week ahead of me so we're going to shower her with giant cakes and dance music and general merriment.
Have a righteous week this coming week. Study MLK. He is our wise man.
A wee girl.
Of course we missed it. I'm hoping they get right on the development of teleportation. Would really save time.
This morning at dance there was this gorgeous guy who was a remarkable dancer. We were all swooning. I'm not even straight but listen, human beauty is beauty all the same. And the way he moved, uh huh. Be still my beating heart.
(((((((sigh))))))
I'm not even sure he knows we were all gobsmacked. I mean, we were acting ridiculous. Maybe he goes around the world leaving everyone in a stunned state.
Languid. In thrall.
Peggy has agreed to host my birthday party. I have no decent house. And Sara has never had an adult birthday party and she's a week ahead of me so we're going to shower her with giant cakes and dance music and general merriment.
Have a righteous week this coming week. Study MLK. He is our wise man.
“Never, never be afraid to do what's right, especially if the well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society's punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.”
Saturday, January 10, 2015
My head is spinning, just paid my first Medicare bill. They certainly don't waste time, do they?
Got a fire going and listening to the Wailin' Jennies. Pretty girl harmonies. The dog is lying at my feet. I'm not sure what's wrong with him. He never lies at my feet. We're expecting a friend and her dog so he'll be barking and throwing himself around soon enough. Maybe the fire has hypnotized him.
I told my daughter that I intended to paint my house cream, yellow, mauve and orange. She despairs of me. What the hell. It's only paint. The house from the front will be so boring but when you get to the back!!!!! Colors. There's green window trim too.
I (gulp) bought three tickets to the UK and back yesterday. I had a travel agent do it. It was too confusing and frustrating for me to do it. We're al meeting in SF and flying from there. Eden and I need a flight (or tunnel or something) to Paris and back.
Here's the text messaging from her yesterday:
Mom, don't use those colors, are you sure? Maybe stay basic.
(me) The part facing the street will be totally boring.
Those tickets were all crazy expensive. And we're not flying back from Paris?
(me) Oops I forgot about flying back from Paris. I can call her on Monday and see if I can change them
Oh mom. It's ok. Paris is two hours from London.
(me) You're right. We could swim back.
YOU could swim back and I will ride a dolphin.
(me) LOL
Heathrow is a gnarly security airport. Scares me.
(me) So we shouldn't bring our revolvers?
Mom
(me) Ok, ok, I'll leave mine at home.
Got a fire going and listening to the Wailin' Jennies. Pretty girl harmonies. The dog is lying at my feet. I'm not sure what's wrong with him. He never lies at my feet. We're expecting a friend and her dog so he'll be barking and throwing himself around soon enough. Maybe the fire has hypnotized him.
I told my daughter that I intended to paint my house cream, yellow, mauve and orange. She despairs of me. What the hell. It's only paint. The house from the front will be so boring but when you get to the back!!!!! Colors. There's green window trim too.
I (gulp) bought three tickets to the UK and back yesterday. I had a travel agent do it. It was too confusing and frustrating for me to do it. We're al meeting in SF and flying from there. Eden and I need a flight (or tunnel or something) to Paris and back.
Here's the text messaging from her yesterday:
Mom, don't use those colors, are you sure? Maybe stay basic.
(me) The part facing the street will be totally boring.
Those tickets were all crazy expensive. And we're not flying back from Paris?
(me) Oops I forgot about flying back from Paris. I can call her on Monday and see if I can change them
Oh mom. It's ok. Paris is two hours from London.
(me) You're right. We could swim back.
YOU could swim back and I will ride a dolphin.
(me) LOL
Heathrow is a gnarly security airport. Scares me.
(me) So we shouldn't bring our revolvers?
Mom
(me) Ok, ok, I'll leave mine at home.
Wednesday, January 07, 2015
We had our practice review today. What is a practice review, you ask. Well, my dears, our malpractice company sends a reviewer to our clinic and harangues us to rewrite protocols, consent forms and the like. And she reads charts for completeness and accuracy. I did a bit of nervous eating today.
She'll consider all this for a month and then we get a letter of many pages with a long list of stuff to fix. Gaaaaaaaa, This process is good, of course and important. My problem is that I'm not OCD in that way. In other ways, sure. Clumps of cat hairs on the furniture, under the kitchen table, decapitated rats on the floor, of course I go after all that. With energy and fury.
But the tinkering required to improve consent forms, it just makes me tired. This is when I envy the big daddy medical centers who have WHOLE DEPARTMENTS devoted to this very thang. The writers of such documents and the legal department chiming in and so forth.
I mean, we're tiny. It's me and two other midwives and a receptionist and a few part-timers who do random papery things. Well, not my insurance biller. She's essential boy howdy. Our young new whippersnapper midwife has offered to jump into the project, bless her.
Big announcement-----da da ta da. I have new doors with handles and deadbolts. And keys. This is a major development. Next there will be a cat door to the actual outside world and not just into the construction zone. We've been contemplating '''''''''lighting''''''''' too. Light fixtures. Sconces and if you know me at all, I effing adore sconces. And deep bathtubs but I'm getting ahead of myself.
I like scones too. They're sconces without the 'c'. And they're edible although the light from sconces is pretty delicious. Maybe they make sconces in the shape of scones.
I've frittered away enough here because i'm stalling. I have to purchase three plane tickets for the girls and me to go to the UK. I promised myself we'd do this for my 65th b'day and yep, that's this year. $$ is tight but somehow we're going. Agh.
Stonehenge. Whiskey. The moors. Hounds of the Baskervilles. The Royals. (snicker) Bubble and squeak. The white cliffs of Dover.
She'll consider all this for a month and then we get a letter of many pages with a long list of stuff to fix. Gaaaaaaaa, This process is good, of course and important. My problem is that I'm not OCD in that way. In other ways, sure. Clumps of cat hairs on the furniture, under the kitchen table, decapitated rats on the floor, of course I go after all that. With energy and fury.
But the tinkering required to improve consent forms, it just makes me tired. This is when I envy the big daddy medical centers who have WHOLE DEPARTMENTS devoted to this very thang. The writers of such documents and the legal department chiming in and so forth.
I mean, we're tiny. It's me and two other midwives and a receptionist and a few part-timers who do random papery things. Well, not my insurance biller. She's essential boy howdy. Our young new whippersnapper midwife has offered to jump into the project, bless her.
Big announcement-----da da ta da. I have new doors with handles and deadbolts. And keys. This is a major development. Next there will be a cat door to the actual outside world and not just into the construction zone. We've been contemplating '''''''''lighting''''''''' too. Light fixtures. Sconces and if you know me at all, I effing adore sconces. And deep bathtubs but I'm getting ahead of myself.
I like scones too. They're sconces without the 'c'. And they're edible although the light from sconces is pretty delicious. Maybe they make sconces in the shape of scones.
I've frittered away enough here because i'm stalling. I have to purchase three plane tickets for the girls and me to go to the UK. I promised myself we'd do this for my 65th b'day and yep, that's this year. $$ is tight but somehow we're going. Agh.
Stonehenge. Whiskey. The moors. Hounds of the Baskervilles. The Royals. (snicker) Bubble and squeak. The white cliffs of Dover.
Monday, January 05, 2015
If you're a rat, you don't stand a chance.
Did I ever say how windy my neighborhood is? The remainder of the tarps flap and flap ( I will miss that sound) and the wood pile my electrician put in my yard BLEW DOWN. No really. So after my in-the-dark swim in the pool I stacked wood. All before 7AM. I am a damn wonder woman.
Waiting on the dentist. I'm supposed to be doing clinic today. Back to work, insurance companies are threatening to cut me off because my paperwork isn't in order (yes, it is), WEB hosting has an outdated credit card number and is threatening to bla bla bla.
What about civility? Why all the mistrust, people? I've been faithfully paying for a whole shitload of things: mortgage, loans, rent on the clinic, malpractice insurance, health insurance, utility bills, etc. on time, every month for fucking YEARS.
I wonder about my Facebook page after I die. How's that for a segue? I mean, it's weird. People can still check in with you even though you're on the other shore, as it were. Of course, you can't reply to comments but your page could go on indefinitely.
Ok, time to call the nice dentist. It's past 9AM.
BTW-I found Hugo in the kitchen last night as I was brushing my teeth (remember, I have no sink in the bathroom so many personal rituals happen at the kitchen sink). Anyway, he was happily munching on the top half of a full grown rat. Yetch. I picked up the dead thing by the tail and dropped it into the garbage can. Ewwwwwwww. And he looked so offended. Why did I take his snack away from him, why???
Remind me why we have pets again? Oh, right, companionship and an opportunity to be inside the lives of other species.
Awesome.
Waiting on the dentist. I'm supposed to be doing clinic today. Back to work, insurance companies are threatening to cut me off because my paperwork isn't in order (yes, it is), WEB hosting has an outdated credit card number and is threatening to bla bla bla.
What about civility? Why all the mistrust, people? I've been faithfully paying for a whole shitload of things: mortgage, loans, rent on the clinic, malpractice insurance, health insurance, utility bills, etc. on time, every month for fucking YEARS.
I wonder about my Facebook page after I die. How's that for a segue? I mean, it's weird. People can still check in with you even though you're on the other shore, as it were. Of course, you can't reply to comments but your page could go on indefinitely.
Ok, time to call the nice dentist. It's past 9AM.
BTW-I found Hugo in the kitchen last night as I was brushing my teeth (remember, I have no sink in the bathroom so many personal rituals happen at the kitchen sink). Anyway, he was happily munching on the top half of a full grown rat. Yetch. I picked up the dead thing by the tail and dropped it into the garbage can. Ewwwwwwww. And he looked so offended. Why did I take his snack away from him, why???
Remind me why we have pets again? Oh, right, companionship and an opportunity to be inside the lives of other species.
Awesome.
Saturday, January 03, 2015
Friday, January 02, 2015
Back from Great Vow Zen Monastery. Those Zen folks are so sweet. Their practice is tough and strict and then they play. They have a marimba band and they performed for us. Imagine the Roshi (a woman by the way) in her 70's in her robes whaling away on the big keys behind the rest of the band, bald headed monks and nuns.
And their food is delicious. Really delicious.
Brought a cold home. Last night in my house again, eating dinner when I found something hard and crunchy in my mouth. Yup, piece of my tooth. Shite. Of course the dentist is closed today. So I get to stay in bed with a runny nose and a jagged gap in my lower jaw.
My theory: we outlive our teeth. I think our teeth were designed to hold up, more or less, about 40 years. Then after that, they begin to fall apart in various ways. We weren't supposed to live so long but we are.
So what will it be? Another horribly expensive implant or a patch job or what? Who knows. And even though I have dental insurance, anything fancy costs a bundle. In my case, a window or two on the house.
The ground is frozen hard. My new glasses are done but I think I'll spare the folks at the glasses store my germs. I'm terrible with glasses. I put them in my pockets, I step on them, I throw them around with my keys. And I wonder why they are so scratched up. Well, duh.
To forge ahead with my book. I have another interview to transcribe and more to schedule. One of my teachers on the retreat is coming out with another book. But she's not a midwife so maybe she has more time. Maybe. Although I think that's a damn excuse.
This post is so boring. I think I'll have a lie down.
And their food is delicious. Really delicious.
Brought a cold home. Last night in my house again, eating dinner when I found something hard and crunchy in my mouth. Yup, piece of my tooth. Shite. Of course the dentist is closed today. So I get to stay in bed with a runny nose and a jagged gap in my lower jaw.
My theory: we outlive our teeth. I think our teeth were designed to hold up, more or less, about 40 years. Then after that, they begin to fall apart in various ways. We weren't supposed to live so long but we are.
So what will it be? Another horribly expensive implant or a patch job or what? Who knows. And even though I have dental insurance, anything fancy costs a bundle. In my case, a window or two on the house.
The ground is frozen hard. My new glasses are done but I think I'll spare the folks at the glasses store my germs. I'm terrible with glasses. I put them in my pockets, I step on them, I throw them around with my keys. And I wonder why they are so scratched up. Well, duh.
To forge ahead with my book. I have another interview to transcribe and more to schedule. One of my teachers on the retreat is coming out with another book. But she's not a midwife so maybe she has more time. Maybe. Although I think that's a damn excuse.
This post is so boring. I think I'll have a lie down.
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
At night her halo lights up
In Calistoga at a spa for Maya's birthday. Gigantic swimming pool that's 95 degrees. Not really swimmable because you get in it and you just want to fall asleep. Had a volcanic mud bath yesterday and a massage. The California experience. California is a different planet than the rest of the US. People here are thinner and more fashionable and more organic than most of the world. Oh and more spiritually inclined in a fruity, hippy, ungrounded kind of way.
Perhaps I'm being unkind.
On the eve of Maya's actual birthday. Her birth was hard and painful and long. And I did it. I grew into being her mother even though I was young and arrogant and impossibly naive. And she became a beautiful, graceful and honest human being. She's a loving mother and my friend.
Today we're waking up to a cool morning, thinking about the ridiculous pool and the town of Calistoga for breakfast.
A friend just called from the East where she sits with her aged mother who is failing. They just got word that her sister has stage 4 breast cancer. Sorrow comes in and stirs and stirs.
As Maude says: "Ah, the great circle of life".
Perhaps I'm being unkind.
On the eve of Maya's actual birthday. Her birth was hard and painful and long. And I did it. I grew into being her mother even though I was young and arrogant and impossibly naive. And she became a beautiful, graceful and honest human being. She's a loving mother and my friend.
Today we're waking up to a cool morning, thinking about the ridiculous pool and the town of Calistoga for breakfast.
A friend just called from the East where she sits with her aged mother who is failing. They just got word that her sister has stage 4 breast cancer. Sorrow comes in and stirs and stirs.
As Maude says: "Ah, the great circle of life".
Saturday, December 20, 2014
I got a letter from ~~~~Animal Control~~~~~~that my white curly headed dog has been running free or otherwise disturbing the property of others. And I better beware because they will come get him or I'll pay fines or worse (waterboarding?)
Geez, and I was telling some newly introduced neighbor folks how safe I feel in my new hood. Who is watching me and ratting me out??? I run the Felix down the center of the street to the dead end and back. Yes, he strays onto a few parking strips. I always clean up after him. He's harmless. Goofy, barky but friendly.
Who is it? I'll never know.
Ok, I'll be taking him to the park more often for his runs. He's not a leash kind of dog. Come to think of it, neither am I.
Obey the rules or else.
If dogs ran free, why can't we?
To California on Monday and Felix to dog camp where he can't get into trouble.
Geez, and I was telling some newly introduced neighbor folks how safe I feel in my new hood. Who is watching me and ratting me out??? I run the Felix down the center of the street to the dead end and back. Yes, he strays onto a few parking strips. I always clean up after him. He's harmless. Goofy, barky but friendly.
Who is it? I'll never know.
Ok, I'll be taking him to the park more often for his runs. He's not a leash kind of dog. Come to think of it, neither am I.
Obey the rules or else.
If dogs ran free, why can't we?
To California on Monday and Felix to dog camp where he can't get into trouble.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
It's time to build a one match fire and huddle.
I applied for MEDICARE today.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
My right knee is 'catching' and 'popping'. Perhaps my squats at the gym are too enthusiastic.
The lady above was nursing a baby in church. It was Italy so you know to expect such things.
My house is freezing.
I applied for MEDICARE today.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
My right knee is 'catching' and 'popping'. Perhaps my squats at the gym are too enthusiastic.
The lady above was nursing a baby in church. It was Italy so you know to expect such things.
My house is freezing.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
I'm going tomorrow to my healthcare place for a lecture/discussion of MEDICARE as I turn 65 in a few months. Lordy. They have sent me vast reams of paper with dense writing to help me consider all my choices. Ah, well, um. I haven't a clue without some guidance what to choose.
Then there's the annual letter from social security reminding me that at retirement age (66? 67? 103?) I will get X amount of $$ and please don't think I can live on this amount. Fool.
Meanwhile, the remodel lumbers along. I have windows and a roof and they've strung up light bulbs for a truly ghetto look. Still I huddle in front of the fire every night with movies from the library and my dear NYT.
Next Monday I leave for California to visit the kinder and then off to a meditation retreat. Back after January first. The pregnant ladies are flying through the door so next year is looking pretty healthy.
Dina was as marvelous as ever. I'll leave you with this song from Seattle's premier chanteuse.
Then there's the annual letter from social security reminding me that at retirement age (66? 67? 103?) I will get X amount of $$ and please don't think I can live on this amount. Fool.
Meanwhile, the remodel lumbers along. I have windows and a roof and they've strung up light bulbs for a truly ghetto look. Still I huddle in front of the fire every night with movies from the library and my dear NYT.
Next Monday I leave for California to visit the kinder and then off to a meditation retreat. Back after January first. The pregnant ladies are flying through the door so next year is looking pretty healthy.
Dina was as marvelous as ever. I'll leave you with this song from Seattle's premier chanteuse.
Friday, December 12, 2014
Monday, December 08, 2014
Sunday, December 07, 2014
It's 4:30 and I'm already in my jammies, about to build a fire in the fireplace. I danced my ass off this morning and took the white dog for a long walk/run/ball chase. Now it's time to knit some more rows for a snood...bet you don't know what a snood is. It's a scarf-y thing you wear on your head/neck and it is impossibly easy to make. The socks take more time.
Tis the dark season. Friends and I went to Playback Theatre last night and revealed ourselves to the improv actors. They danced/spoke/yelled etc. our stories. It alternated between being terrifying and funny, depending on their focus. There were a few children there and I wanted to throttle them. I'm not usually opposed to children per se, I do deliver them fairly often but last night they were obnoxious and hogging all the attention. Their parents tried reining them in, in vain. The actors were gracious about it but jeez. Sometimes I do appreciate me some child-free space.
I have perfected the art of the one match fire. I am also getting good at splitting wood for kindling. I love building a fire, almost as much as I love watching it and feeding it throughout the evening. Fires need tending. Sara and her guy brought me a bunch of apple wood, burns much more slowly than the pine from the remodel.
Speaking of the remodel. I now have a new roof and four new skylights. Hot damn.
Another week begins. Babies growing, babies being born, all in the great cycle of life.
Tis the dark season. Friends and I went to Playback Theatre last night and revealed ourselves to the improv actors. They danced/spoke/yelled etc. our stories. It alternated between being terrifying and funny, depending on their focus. There were a few children there and I wanted to throttle them. I'm not usually opposed to children per se, I do deliver them fairly often but last night they were obnoxious and hogging all the attention. Their parents tried reining them in, in vain. The actors were gracious about it but jeez. Sometimes I do appreciate me some child-free space.
I have perfected the art of the one match fire. I am also getting good at splitting wood for kindling. I love building a fire, almost as much as I love watching it and feeding it throughout the evening. Fires need tending. Sara and her guy brought me a bunch of apple wood, burns much more slowly than the pine from the remodel.
Speaking of the remodel. I now have a new roof and four new skylights. Hot damn.
Another week begins. Babies growing, babies being born, all in the great cycle of life.
Tuesday, December 02, 2014
Waiting for the corn bread to be done and some weird-ass soup I made with random elderly vegetables and a can of black beans. As we roll around here.
A wee babe this morning around 5 AM. The mom called in the deepest part of the night and the deepest part of sleep. The kind of sleep you crawl out of, the sleep cave where your clan is snugged up next to you and all are warm and safe.
Duty calls so you climb out into the freezing bedroom and the even colder closet to find you birthin' clothes (the ones you can get goop on and it doesn't matter), those delicious wool socks, all your gear, phone, car keys etc to sit in the freezing car with the defroster going full blast while you scrape off the ice so you can see to drive across town.
Quiet highway, perfect time to be riding to a birth; no traffic, no cops, no drunks bumping the yellow line.
The babe comes quickly. Dad is so beautiful holding his girl to his chest. Sometimes we look away because it is too tender.
We go make some tea, clean up, get the mom to the shower so we can strip her bed and give her clean sheets, give our postpartum instructions and head out.
I take my crew to breakfast. It's the least I can do. We've eaten in some interesting places-the all nighters where the hookers and gangsters and late night hipsters go for a steak at 3 AM.
At home I find the electrician and the guys. There's still snow on the roof and ice everywhere so no roofers today. The electrician has recently married her girlfriend. I congratulate her and she tells me she knows someone I might like to date. Oy.
Ok, but I'm pretty good by myself up here on the hill, looking over the mountains and the lake, as long as I have a friend to call who can help me move the dresser or have a meal with me or hike the Cascades on the weekends.
And anyone I ever date who wants to hang around? The moms and babies come first. They always have. They always will. That's the deal with midwifery. That kind of service is hard for some to handle. And that's ok. I used to be puzzled by my lovers who got cranky with me as I ran off into the night. Now it's ok. It really is.
We midwives have a special job. And it's impossible to explain why we do it. It's what our hearts lead us to do. It heals us and maybe it heals the world.
A wee babe this morning around 5 AM. The mom called in the deepest part of the night and the deepest part of sleep. The kind of sleep you crawl out of, the sleep cave where your clan is snugged up next to you and all are warm and safe.
Duty calls so you climb out into the freezing bedroom and the even colder closet to find you birthin' clothes (the ones you can get goop on and it doesn't matter), those delicious wool socks, all your gear, phone, car keys etc to sit in the freezing car with the defroster going full blast while you scrape off the ice so you can see to drive across town.
Quiet highway, perfect time to be riding to a birth; no traffic, no cops, no drunks bumping the yellow line.
The babe comes quickly. Dad is so beautiful holding his girl to his chest. Sometimes we look away because it is too tender.
We go make some tea, clean up, get the mom to the shower so we can strip her bed and give her clean sheets, give our postpartum instructions and head out.
I take my crew to breakfast. It's the least I can do. We've eaten in some interesting places-the all nighters where the hookers and gangsters and late night hipsters go for a steak at 3 AM.
At home I find the electrician and the guys. There's still snow on the roof and ice everywhere so no roofers today. The electrician has recently married her girlfriend. I congratulate her and she tells me she knows someone I might like to date. Oy.
Ok, but I'm pretty good by myself up here on the hill, looking over the mountains and the lake, as long as I have a friend to call who can help me move the dresser or have a meal with me or hike the Cascades on the weekends.
And anyone I ever date who wants to hang around? The moms and babies come first. They always have. They always will. That's the deal with midwifery. That kind of service is hard for some to handle. And that's ok. I used to be puzzled by my lovers who got cranky with me as I ran off into the night. Now it's ok. It really is.
We midwives have a special job. And it's impossible to explain why we do it. It's what our hearts lead us to do. It heals us and maybe it heals the world.
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