People-

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

But.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, Scotland...

My dears:

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

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

Dinner last night looked like this:

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

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

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

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

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

And this:

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

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

Dears-

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

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

Shite.

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

Dear neighbor who is complaining about Felix,

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

Yours,

Beth the responsible dog owner

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi Raven:

Welcome to my house.

Every day:

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

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

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

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

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

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

WIFI is lolahugo and the PW is felix123.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ibuprofen is my best friend.

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

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

Off to sit with my vipassana people.

Go see this movie:



Immediately.

Sunday dance morning. The back door has stood open so the paint can dry. A fierce sunset yesterday. The rooster across the street expressing himself.

I saw the most remarkable thing this afternoon. My lawn is riddled with moles and mole tunnels. They are impossible to get rid of and so I'm tolerating them until I seriously begin gardening out there. Anyway. I was walking toward the front door and noticed two full grown moles THROWING DOWN.  They were rolling and tumbling and biting each other, flipping the dirt around. They have these flipper front paws? hands? and they're BLIND. I moved one of them to the other side of the yard and they --poof---disappeared into the ground.

They have glossy black fur and stubby tails. They're kinda cute except for the general mayhem and my yard is wee small. I looked up 'getting rid of moles' on Google and one solution involved two shovels and a sledge hammer (ouch). Or mouse traps and salami. Nope, not that one either.

Anyway, sorry Hugo missed all the fun. He's good at rats but moles, not his forte.

It's a regular wild kingdom around here.

I'm way tired but I'm going to dance tonight anyway. We've had 6 babies in the past 7 days, whew. And they didn't all come during the day after a 4 hour labor.

I have new yellow marmoleum floors in my bathroom and in the laundry room. I might get a sink soon in the bathroom---here I do a happy dance while the dawg looks on uncomprehendingly.

There is a finished remodel coming along and it will be done this summer or someone will be severely punished, I don't know who yet but I'll think of someone. Maybe a member of the Bush family because undoubtedly it is their collective fault.

Where I spent the weekend. There are two eagles in the center of the photo sitting together on a post. I'm in bed and because Felix ran around on the beach and in the water all day, he and my room smell like a swamp.

Day two with a family in labor, been quite stressful but not able to discuss it here-privacy reasons and all. Suffice it to say that I've had about 4 hours of sleep and woke up crying. Well, I thought about things and then cried a bit. After talking with both partners, a buddy in Olympia and my doc friend.

Then I wandered around a bit in the remodel, looking at a few painter's holidays in my tee-shirt until Jim showed up.

Jim had seen me at my most attractive-nasty pajamas, wild hair, sleep deprived, just basically gross.

The wrath of god, as my mother would say.

By the way-

Holly and I saw these marvelous people Saturday night:

Hugo has moved on to birds. Well, a bird. I found the head, the legs and the wings and a pile of feathers. I don't like this about katz, that they're such animals. I'd prefer the rodent killings, frankly.

Lola never catches anything. Except for worms. She is a champion worm catcher. Takes a lot of skill, you can be sure.

Two rooms are painted, all the trim is done except for the baseboards. The floor guys will be coming soon to do the bathroom and the laundry room. Today I'm painting the studio and the hallways. I'm pretty good at cutting in if you don't look too close.

Just saw The Salt of The Earth, a docu about French Brazilian Sebastio Salgado, the photographer. Essential. Gorgeous. He spent years photographing wounded areas of the world; Rwanda, the Sudan, the plight of refugees, gold miners in Brazil, firefighters in Kuwait after Hussain lit oil wells on fire. He wearied of all the suffering and destruction and turned to natural landscapes, including his home that had been decimated by drought. They planted thousands of trees and remade a forest filled with birds. Remarkable traveler and artist. Wim Wenders directed.

The UK nears. I think I have all the directions to the various airb&bs. I have a house sitter. The dawg will go to camp with Randy. Lynn is back from her travels and back at work. When I get back, maybe there will be a new house to come back too. All done. No more dust. Painted.

And it will only have been A YEAR since we started this madness. And there will be no next time.

Time to swim and run the canine.

There is evidence that the trim guy was here today. As in trim around the windows and doors and baseboards. There might be floors soon. I gotta paint the bathroom and then figure out the high bits where we'll need scaffolding. Holy shite.

Watched a documentary, actually a 'duckumentary' of a Western Buddhist priest in LA who rescued a baby duck, a flightless duck. She was already a bird person but had never had a duck before. The duck grew up, like babies do and proceeded to poop all over her apartment. And I mean all over. She had towels and plastic everywhere. But she snuggled her duck who was totally imprinted on her. He would lay his head on her shoulder. Her adventure was to find a new home where her duck, Lewie, could live, preferably outside with another duck. Hugh Hefner's mansion grounds houses all kinds of birds and animals but the crested crane had it out for Lewie so no dice. Lewie eventually found his new home with a lady outside LA somewhere who had a lonely Peking duck (and a whole bunch of other birds) who needed a companion.

I must admit, I thought of you, Mary, while I watched Lewie's story. The Buddhist priest had gotten worms for Lewie, which he LOVED but she had a hard time feeding them to him so after he moved out, as they say, she had a container of earthworms that she's now caring for.

All of us were taken out to lunch today to a swanky restaurant by one of our grateful clients. It's only taken about a year to get us all in one room. The food was delicious, we laughed a whole lot and her one year old son was surprisingly patient. We 'caught' both of this mom's babies on their houseboat. She admits that things are getting a bit tight in their living quarters.

There was something so special about a bunch of ladies laughing and telling birth stories in a circle. Feels so ancient, like our ancestors have done for centuries. Passing the wisdom around; discussing circumcision, birth control, sex, baby penises, breastfeeding, birth in all its' variety. heaven only knows what the table next to us thought if they could hear us talking.

It's been a good life. And I'm fortunate to be sitting in that circle still.

My two favorite women

I painted my new bedroom/office/guest room today.

I know. Amazing.

I wash the floors daily because there is so much drywall dust, we know at a glance where the dog/katz/I have been walking.

I might even paint the living room. It's white. The white has gotta go. I'm thinking a warm creamy color.

I'll still put up my photo of Benedict. He's weird-dreamy. I can't explain it.

I'm leaving for Europe in a month. OMG.

I shaved my legs today and put coconut oil on them. When I saw them today, they looked like alien legs. Since I don't have a proper bathroom or a tub or shower, I got out a large bowl with warm water, sat on a chair and soaped up with my foot in the bowl. My legs are very freckly, something I don't remember having but is undoubtedly a consequence of stupid tanning practices from the past. Baby oil anyone? And my skin is wrinkly and saggy because I'm, well, sorta old.

Even so, Patrick at the gym tried to kill me and Luanne, my gym buddy, today. 150 jump ropes, 1000 meters on the rowing machine,  100 sit ups and a bunch of other exercises that left us lying on the floor groaning. I did learn from Luanne that bigger boobs make your stomach look smaller. It's about proportions.

My printer is acting funny, prints half a page and then moves on to the next page. I'm afraid I need a computer geek over here to try and fix it.

I reprinted a wedding ceremony for some friends and got all choked up reading their vows. We're so tender sometimes and weddings are where we can express it. Our best hopes. In spite of the odds.

Beautiful day again for visiting babies and walking in the woods. Sara and I drove to Tacoma last night to dance. It was late. We got stuck in traffic. We found the yoga studio up a flight of stairs, weird little room with too many people and very HOT, one small fan. But we danced and danced. We danced for all the babies we delivered while Lynn was away (14 at least), we danced for the late nights with no sleep, the worry about certain clients, the inevitable losses and sorrows inherent in our work, the beautiful births and sweet tired parents.

Sometimes it just has to come out of the body, the stress and pain and joy and all of it. We who stand beside the great rolling waterfall of life and death, witnessing. Holding and guiding with as much compassion as we have for ourselves and the whole suffering world.

Peace and kindness rain upon us all.

Some day there will a bathtub that I can get into, just stroll into the bathroom and turn on the water and wait a bit and then get in and soak. That sounds so nice.

My daughter called to tell me her cat is dying and needs to be put down. She was weeping and we talked about Little Boy, with his sister, as her first babies. Our animals are especially hard when they are suffering. Of course we worry and fret when our children are hurt or lost or in danger. We do what we can for them. But our dogs and cats are different.

She wondered what to do with Milo, her son. I told her to have him come with her to the appointment. He's had his share of pain already but he's old enough to be open to his beloved animal's death. And Maya can let him see her distress. And they can be comfort for one another.

The great circle of life, as Maude would say.

Meanwhile, I'll be going back tomorrow to North Bend to see the baby living under the shadow of Mount Si in the piney woods. With elk and bunnies.

Tonight Sara and I are going dancing in Tacoma. Music and dancing, the masters of the stars.

The ghosts of spray painting

Today's baby:

Josie AKA 'Pike' with a few of her siblings and her momma, of course. Sweet daytime birth. Complete with elk browsing in the yard. We were WAY out there by Mount Si, down a dead end dirt road. The momma's fourth baby so she knew exactly what to do. Beautiful to watch her move instinctively through her labor and she knew just when to call us. 

In other news, the brawny men put the massively heavy cast iron tub on the curb with a 'free' sign on it and just now two scrawny guys with a ratty pickup truck came and somehow wrangled it into the truck bed. I watched, cringing all the while. I wouldn't offer to help as I was afraid I'm be pinned underneath after they dropped it on me. If you've ever watched piano movers work, you know what thoughts go through your head...

Felix is with Randy overnight at doggie camp. No wonder the house is so quiet. 

The remodel is moving along. It really is. Walls are being primed. By Friday those guys will be done. Then floors! And trim! I'm even cautiously thinking about paint colors. Imagine. 

I'm back after a 14 baby month. It's officially May now and I've caught up on sleep AND Lynn returns next week, thank gawd. I've been sooooo tired, I crawl into bed with my clothes on to wake some time later wondering if it's morning or night. We did have some splendid babies.

Eden came and went. 

I got walls and ceilings:

and the rest of the house is more dirty, dusty, covered with white powder with guys swarming banging and loud music etc. Insulation too.  There is the beginning of a garden. I unfortunately accidentally killed the dogwood with the evil week whacker that tried to take off my leg last year. It wrapped itself around the trunk and stripped off all the bark (sob!) I stood and apologized and it told me it didn't mind. 

Saw Wild Tales last night. It is Argentinean and I laughed so loud my movie companion told me to hush. It's so wrong and brilliant and darkly funny. All worth it for the wedding scene. Please see it and let me know what you think. Not a Hollywood film, that's for sure. 

I bought a huge cat house/tree, carpeted thingy because I'm sick of clumps of hair, cat vomit and detritus that they bring in from outside and leave on the couch. Including this:

I know, it's only the paw. Hugo the beast has dispatched with the rest of the, ahem, body. It was lying neatly on the kitchen floor, not on the couch. I think Hugo wants me to see it and admire his prowess. Which I do, of course. 

I have hoses at my house. I didn't have any spigots so I was hauling water to my garden in a big orange bucket. Hoses are a real luxury. Right now I have gratitude for my life; the sun coming in the back door for free, the animals I live with and quiet, the green trees waving their countless leaves in the green belt. In spite of Baltimore or Nepal or my homeless friends standing by the freeway off ramps or out on I-90 in their tents. 

Listening to 12 Years a Slave. Couldn't see the movie but I can listen to the story in his own words. 

We must be kind to ourselves, to one another. We must. It is the only rule. 

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

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

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

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










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

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

https://vimeo.com/125867934


I'm sleeping all night. NO BABIES ALLOWED.

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


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

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

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

Sara and me and baby Christina

Dears-

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

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






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

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



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

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

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

Love.

One of my heroes has gone.

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

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

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

I'm so tired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 leader> <adroit maneuvers>

Then she hugged me. 

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

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

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

Where's the joy in all this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For instance:

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

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

In other news:

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

It even flushes. 

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

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

May we be warm and safe and loved.

May we be held in compassion.

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

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

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

Wounded birds. Wounded people.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXXO

My brand new tree

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

It's ok.

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

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

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

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

Sheesh.

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

This is a miracle.

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

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

Beatitude

               - Claire Bateman


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

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

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

They have problems with flatulence
because they fry with lard.

Yet darkness
rocks their unfashionable limbs
into phosphorescence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lordy.

My finger hurts if I move it the wrong way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bring on the babies.

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

It's gonna be freezing but who cares.

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Thank you, Mary. 

Love from your friend Beth

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."

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.

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.

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:

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. 

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.