My tenant has taken herself to her partner's house in the country for Shelter in place (don't know why I capitalized that) and so I'm truly the only human in the house now. She's worried about me but will check on me daily. I have many folks who are staying in touch, delivering food and cat litter etc. So.

On a Zoom call yesterday about the coming surge and plans the independent midwifery community is working on to care for pregnant and laboring women through the next few months as hospitals need every available bed and low risk women need to be off-site. Working from here as I can't be in the midst of the fray as someone who is vulnerable cuz of my age. It's so intense.

The fear/panic is a humming in my chest and gut. From my vantage point in my pretty house, I'm damned privileged. I have food for myself and the critters. I'm apparently healthy. I have money to pay my mortgage and utilities, almost. Close enough. Life getting real without eating out, buying shit and going to the movies.

My daily practice looks like this. Feed Felix and Lola. Check the weather for our walk down Beacon Ave. Dress. Meditate in silence or guided. Wait to eat and shower until Felix and I return. Eat. Shower. Listen to the Catch and Kill podcast (thanks Mary!), etc. Some days I spend a lot of time on the phone or Facetime or Zoom calls. My neighbor works at Home Depot and he says everyone is coming in for supplies for their remodel. I think Home Depot must be closed by now but he's bringing me soil so I can start some veggies in the house.

The walk down the street is a refuge. The smell of the air, cut grass, the birds esp the robins (always a herald of spring when I was growing up in the cold North), the occasional person who is walking far from me. O the blooming world.

The next days are full of rain. Time for an umbrella and rain boots. We're  tough, we NW types.

Today is Eden's birthday and we'll be celebrating via Zoom. I'll wear my Burning Man hat and light candles stuck in a banana.

OMG

It's been a day. No longer going to the store, no longer spending time with my people except virtually. Hanging with the dog and cat. Gave the dog an horrendous haircut but at least he can see. I'll be doing the same to my own head soon enough. I allow myself one long walk a day with Felix, zigzagging down the street to avoid being near to other people. Talked so much on the phone I ran out of power. Counting down the days until I can consider myself out of danger with no contact with others. I figure about 6 more days. In the meantime, every slight throat tickle, every cough brings cold dread into my body.

Started with a virtual guided meditation from some sweet nuns who live in California. They guided us and then let us talk to them/each other. I blubbered as I talked: about my fear, my sadness for leaving my midwife life in such a sudden way, selfishness that I'm not on the front lines with other first responders and feeling useless at home conducting virtual visits with prenatal and postpartum folks. And consults, so many consults. Women are so fearful to deliver in the hospital, they are considering home birth or birth center birth. How awful to be the parents of young children, babies right now. Talked with a dear friend who is a dharma teacher and she reminded me that my feelings of selfishness are sorta self-centered, that I can let go of my 40+ year career as a midwife and let others do the work. That doing what I can to save my own life is ok, there is more to come, I may have more usefulness and that death is inevitable. Of course we all know that. Being able to look directly at that reality has never felt more immediate than now. Swinging from panic to calm to 'normal' back to panic again. It's exhausting.

I've actually written a list of 'things to do if I am unable to because I'm sick in the hospital or I'm dead-caring for the animals, where is my will, who to contact, etc. I asked my teacher if this is a compressed course of "A Year to Live" and she said certainly.

Mary, my teacher, also reminded me to feel the grief, maybe the selfishness is really grief. So I broke   down again and fell into the grace of her loving words. Ah, the suffering of this world. The oddness of the beautiful weather as spring breaks forth over us all and the plague crawling through the human community, picking us off. I won't even comment on the slow and misguided response of those in power. It helps no one. I'm grateful Washington State has a good governor who is doing his best to make rational decisions. I think martial law might come as the numbers continue to climb.

I volunteered to sew masks for our health care workers on the front lines.

Tonight Maya and I watched two episodes of Outlander while on FaceTime. It's our thing. We sync up our computers and watch together.

Lots of food was delivered yesterday by dear friends. I'm good for a while. A little worried about cat food but Felix has three months of food. I wish Lola would eat dry food that she then wouldn't barf up. Sheesh.

Well, I feel like I just vomited all this up. It's the anxiety talking. I'm not in a constant state of panic. It comes and goes. That's how feelings are. When I was still going to the pool almost every day, one of my hot tub pals said, "It's been a good life. I've lived a long time...." I'm just not there. I don't want to die just yet but we don't get to choose that one, do we?

For those of you who stuck it out all the down to here, (and of those who didn't), may you all be safe and well and feeling supported by those who love you. Our world is no longer one we recognize and if we are together on the other side of this human catastrophe, we will be changed. We are changed.

May all beings be free from their suffering. May all beings be well. May my love be with you.

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

                                                       Wendell Berry

The day is beautiful here and Felix and I will go to the park for a walk. With a friend who  knows full well what panic and despair are as a worker with Doctors without Borders. 

She finds humor and joy in the darkest places. 

May we all be at peace. May we be well. May we be free from suffering. 

Well, if I'm warned to stay inside because I'm in a 'high risk' category as an officially old person, I might as well tell y'all a story, a story I've been telling for years from the annals of the weird.

You know I've been a midwife for many years, Many. Years. And sometimes there are situations that take the cake. The WTF situations, the stories you couldn't make up, the once in a lifetime stories. So here goes.

We had a lovely couple who transferred to the hospital when the birth wasn't happening at the birth center. Her sister was visiting from Hawaii and was planning to care for them afterwards. Her sister was at the birth. And this is important, fully clothed. They went off to the hospital, had their baby and we went a day later to visit them and see how they were doing.

We (my partner and I) went up to the postpartum floor and asked for the room number. We got an unreadable look from the ward clerk but no clue to what was coming. She directed us to their room.

Stepping into the room we saw 1) mom in the bed 2) dad standing beside the bed 3) a naked woman and 4) a nurse with her back to the room tending to the baby in her little cot.

Ok, so I scanned the room again-mom in bed-dad by the bed-????naked woman????-nurse with baby. The nurse had a furious look on her face because, um, there was a naked woman in the room??

At first I thought the naked woman was the mom but no, mom was accounted for.

Then I tried to get some information, any information from the parents, by reading their facial expressions or SOMETHING but not a thing. They're happy to see us, la la.

Ok, so this is the sister, now naked, not even a pair of socks. Just a long winding tattoo up her side. Are those morning glories?

So we have our visit. Baby is doing well, nursing well. The sister volunteers that skin to skin contact is good for bonding. ((?????)) Yes, but.

Then the parents want a photo with the birth team so we gather around the couple and their child. The naked sister, camera in hand,  stands on a chair and puts one foot on the arm rest for balance so we get an, um, view of her nether parts. The look on my face in the photo is, well, I'm smiling in an OMG kind of way.

We make our goodbyes and I tell my partner we need to find the hospital midwives because they're the ones we transferred to and I feel a need to apologize or make amends or something. We find their office and they are all gathered there. Before I even get a full sentence out, they say, "We know. That family is the talk of the hospital".

The mom recently sent me a funny video of a kid screaming for 5 minutes while the dad sits quietly waiting for the storm to subside. I think of them with fondness.

There's no accounting for family, is there?

Currently reading Brian Doyle's book of essays, "One Long River of Song". Encountered him in The Sun.

https://www.eurekastreet.com.au/article/article.aspx?aeid=45566#.WS0BVxN95E4

This is one essay. Mostly you'll find his poems on the internet. But his essays are wondrous.

He's a Catholic and I don't even mind. In fact, I rarely care what people call themselves anymore. Including myself. Am I a lesbian? Does it matter? I know it matters in terms of civil rights that we are seen as disabled or a color or race, or gender identity or homeless or what have you. In all the ways we have or don't have access or privilege or voting rights or the ear of the powerful. What I mean is that I'm more interested in connections others allow me to make, to swim through the differences to our common joys and sorrow, our yearning to be happy and free.

And Brian Doyle could be Jesus or Buddha or Mohammed or Mother Teresa. And so could you and I.

Um, an update on the 'new sister' situation. She was born 5 MONTHS before me.

The plot thickens.

And we may never know the 'truth', which I actually think is a slippery eel kind of a thing.

BTW-did you know there is a dish called eel pie. Ew. Thanks to my British ancestors. At least it's not haggis.

Dear ones,

This very day I was born 70 years ago. Many people have celebrated this occasion with me but today, mid-week, was pretty quiet. I meditated, walked the dog, swam, went to a French film and wrote an email to my newly discovered half sister.

WHAT????

Two days ago,  my younger child called to tell me that her cousin Deirdre in Belgrade had been contacted by a 72 yo woman who found her from Ancestry.com. She was born in 1948 and adopted out at birth. She's got a child and grandchildren. Eden is already on Facebook with her new cousin.

To say I'm shocked is an understatement. Just doing the math...Dad was married before my mother and he had a son, my half brother, in 1945. He divorced that wife, met my mother and I was born in 1950. So somewhere in there he had a fling? an infidelity? who knows?? and this person showed up. We're speculating that he wasn't even aware that he had another kid.

We all knew Dad was a ladies man, In other words, he got around and had affairs when he was married to my mother. It was never talked about but we all knew. We all knew.

Anyway, her name is Lauren and I'll just wait to see if she responds.

When Eden called, she said, "Hey mom, you have a sister! Happy birthday!!!" hahahahahahahaha.

Jeezus.

Some of my favorite people. The Oregon coast is glorious.

We've had so much rain here the ground has liquified. When Felix and I go to our park, it's a muddy soup. He slides around and loses his footing. And as he is white, he is like one of those half moon cookies, white above and brown below.

I got him into the lake where he swam for a bit. Then he stood shivering on the shore. No amount of showing off for the black retriever could convince him to go back in one more time.

On the 15th, we all head for the Oregon coast and a seven bedroom house with a sauna and a short walk to the beach for my 70th birthday. My daughter put together a montage of photos to music and while watching, I thought, 'Jeez, I'm fat.' Really Beth, that's all you can say about living this long, in reasonable health, with family and friends who love you. How ungrateful.

I've been elected to a new BOD. It's all white folks. I'm afraid I'll be the squeaky wheel board member, you know the one, who's always complaining about the lack of diversity. I'm gonna be that person. My friend Rachel says if I complain, I need to also have a solution. How about this-Hey, lets start over, using a truly diverse community as our template. And have a BOD that is at least 1/3, 1/4, some number that is POC. How about that?

Apropos of nothing, I bought a new computer. The old one was stuttering and sticking and misbehaving. I got a champagne pink one. It's very pretty.

Don't walk, run to see 'Pain and Glory' by Pedro Almodovar. It is truly a beautiful and beautifully acted film. Antonio Banderas. Penelope Cruz. Other gorgeous actors. I compare it to Moonlight. Really.

Just back from the desert with these darling people

It was a tough retreat but I now have a food handler's certificate for San Bernadino, woo-hoo. Don't  ask. Joshua Tree National Park is soooo alien to my NW life. I kept touching cactus (don't, really) and pulling out thorns with tweezers for  the next few days. After the retreat was over, we repaired to a BNB that had a hot tub, a TV and big soft beds. Eden came with her massive cooking skills so we ate beautiful food. I am so grateful to these women in my life. More than I can ever say.

Dears,

It's snowing here and we're all contemplating alternative routes to work, if there is work or school tomorrow. In advance of the snow, I went  to the Safeway. What a mistake. Huge lines and  I had to wonder if I really needed rice crackers (yes they still taste like cardboard) and a yam. The guy behind me said he would continue to gain weight stuck in the house. He had  yogurt dipped pretzels, two kinds of Ben and Jerry's and a whole lotta other stuff. I didn't mean to be nosy but I'm pretty sure there weren't any vegetables in his cart.

I sent out a big email with the update on my 70th birthday. Next month. On the Oregon coast. Folks are coming from far and wide. Bad poetry night, game night, a treasure hunt and so forth. Plus dogs and kids. And my brother and sister, what's left of the siblings. Much food will be  consumed too.

A cross section of people are coming: gay, straight, trans, POC,  Jewish, Buddhist, agnostic, a woman who is a zoo keeper for gorillas (surely a faith-based occupation).

Snow is still falling. I do love it.

In spite of the weather here right now (rain, gray, cold, yuck), we often get to see the beauty that is Tahoma, the First Nations name for Mt Rainier. Tahoma means white capped or snow covered. And she hangs on to her white head all year because she is very tall.

When we hiked the Wonderland Trail  around the mountain back when, the astonishment of the daily hike compelled us forward. Fields of wild flowers, shallow ponds full of tiny tadpoles, view after view of the peak from different angles, snow fields we crossed,  mountain goats and ground squirrels. The only place I have even been that close was Glacier Bay in Alaska. Astonishing.



Please see this film if you can. Paul Stamets is here in the NW and he taught and studied at my very alma mater, Evergreen.

In a week I'm going to Joshua Tree, which is the desert outside LA. Also splendid.

It's so easy to love the Earth.

I must tell you about the sing-along Messiah Judith and I went to because, well, I must. First of all, I usually go to the Unit church, you know, the Unitarians. They have a real orchestra and a packed house of singers and mountains of cookies for the breaks. Oh, and a really, um, hot conductor with a half white and half brown eyebrow. So there's that. And they give away prizes and let one of us conduct the Hallelujah chorus.

However.

This year I was out of town for that event so we went to another church and so.

The conductor has recently had two knee replacements which he reminded us of a lot. The orchestra was skimpy, very skimpy. And no trumpet. :-(. I mean, how can you sing, "The trumpet will sound" without a trumpet. In fact the only woodwind we had was a clarinet which was quite squeaky. And the violin was cringy. The cellos were ok and thank gawd for the piano.

We stumbled around quite a bit. Some of those choruses are tricky without strong singers and I am not what I would call a strong singer.

The whole thing lasts 3+ hours on a good day but with one thing and another we took almost 4 hours. At one point I looked at Judith and her eyes were closed. I thought she might be meditating but she told me later she was sleeping a little. Oh dear.

Anyway, the Hallelujah chorus sounded splendid. You really can't fuck that one up.

May we all survive 2020 with sanity intact. Avoiding all but the most pressing news would be a start for me. Every tweet from the asshole in the White House is not necessary to know about.

More love. More joy.

Buddha at the airport

Maya had her birthday again and we gathered to celebrate her. On the way home, a Buddha watched over weary travelers outside the Alaska gates.  Life is full of unexpected moments. Thank goodness for my beautiful family. I love them so.

We saw Trevor Noah Friday night and he was splendid and so funny. I brought a hanky so I could wipe my eyes and blow my nose. From laughing. And he FILLED a stadium with people. I sacrificed my tiny Swiss army knife when I wen through the metal detector. It was worth it.

Trevor was polite, no swearing or misogyny. Just plain funny. And he warned us that Pence is scarier than Trump. Gawd.

Yesterday we saw the incomparable Dina, also a need for hankies to wipe eyes and blow noses.



Judith and I will do the sing-along Messiah after I get back from SF and Maya's birthday.

I actually put tiny lights on my wreath on my gate. They've all burned out, guess they're not made for rain.

Another year almost at an end. Time to watch the 1957 version of A Christmas Carol with the incomparable Alistair Sim. Misanthrope becomes Boddhisatva, ta-da!!

Yesterday at the park! In the big city!

She was walking down the main path with purpose. She veered into the bush and came out behind me on the path again. Lots of people with dogs on leashes...Lots of people.

There are bunnies in the park, breakfast for this critter.

Why am I listening to the impeachment hearings? What a river of words. What badgering, talking over, buckets of sarcasm.

I saw "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" with the lovely Tom Hanks last night. Read the article the movie is taken from here https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/tv/a27134/can-you-say-hero-esq1198/

Mr. Rogers was a thoughtful, kind and loving man who helped children (and adults). What would he say about our current political squabble. Squabble, hate-filled rhetoric, grandstanding, whatever you want to call it. Mr. Rogers would have waded in to confront the sad, angry, vengeful person with love. With kindness. With brave attention. With raggety hand puppets.

Really.

How old fashioned.

This morning my tai chi teacher and I walked back to the parking lot together. She is Chinese/First Nations and she's working on archives of Chinese people/families who were deported from the Seattle area back in the day because they were 'taking jobs' (sound familiar?). She says there are transcripts in English but lots of transcripts in Chinese including handwritten stories. The Americans also have written out Chinese names phonetically so that makes the investigation challenging. Local officials did sent people back to China; sometimes a child, sometimes a whole family. She says it's slow going but mirrors current border policies today. Ug.

We meet on Monday in Kabota gardens to practice. The man who designed the garden was imprisoned during WWII because he was Japanese.

You know what. I'm going swimming and then I'm gonna walk the dog and I'm turning off the radio.

Now.

Waiting for Judith to arrive. We are going to Cloud Mountain, a retreat center where I have spent many hours in silence. Consider it a monastery where we are invited to simplify our lives. We put down daily activities-no cooking, no cleaning, no electronics (!), reading is discouraged, no talking or eye contact. We have a simple schedule, waking, meditating, meals, an afternoon break, a talk in the evening, early bedtime, early rising in the morning. An opportunity to gather, make peace with inner turmoil (or at least greet it with some kindness)...

This weekend we are volunteering-cleaning the whole center; bathrooms, bedrooms, dining hall, kitchen, dharma hall. I've signed up for outside where we will prune the grapes, hack away the bamboo and build a bonfire for s'mores.

Mathew will cook for us. Living alone, another person cooking oatmeal for me is such a luxury. This trip, we can talk with each other, find out where we are from, have spirited conversations about politics, the eight fold path, how hard is it to knit socks...

Then we'll come back to the city, in the cold and dark rain.

Last night some of us cooked and fed homeless teens. We do this four or five times a year. Kellie, with great generosity, brought the most beautiful king salmon pieces I think I've ever seen. Worth so much. And she marinated and cooked it. The kids ate three or four servings. As one boy left, he said, "That's the best fish I've  ever tasted!!"

I gave deep thanks for the salmon. Good protein and fish oils for those children who went out into 20 degree weather.

We also made veggie fritatta which they loved. And  mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy.

I love this team so much. Tina and Chris come every time. Then there's the wandering band who  volunteer, changes  with the season.

Tiger Mountain today. And yes, there is a tent city at the end of this road.

Dear hearts-

The year is wrapping up with a bang. I attended another  birth last night. We're eight for eight since last Thursday. The momma last night (and this morning) has a rough time but she did it. At one point she was hollering  at the top of her lungs with each contraction. But she brought out her wee boy who had a slow start but was hale and hearty when they left the birth center.

Got home at 5AM and fell into bed with my clothes on. It's harder as a grandma to recover from all nighters. But I manage.

 

A friend recently admonished me when I said, "but anyone could have been at the birth and helped the mother" (because I want people to own their experience) that I did indeed help them. I got up in the middle of the night and went out on the highway in the dark and cold to where some woman was in labor (in travail as they used to say). I hung out with the family until the baby made her appearance and I kept them safe and took the long watch because it was my job and my calling. And the blessings from this long life of service have been countless. Countless.

The spiritual practice I study encourages us to celebrate our own goodness, to see that we can have  a positive effect on our world. However small our acts of kindness are.

As I sit here in my quiet house with tea and not quite enough sleep, I reflect on all the kindnesses that go unnoticed. In service to others, because our hearts are calling us to love who and what we love. Because there is goodness in us.

Dogs understand 200 words. Or should I say, SOME dogs understand 200 words. Felix understands but chooses to ignore me.

While I was on a Zoom call today,  Felix started barking and then the smoke detector went off. No, I didn't burn down the house. I did burn tea on the stove. Who does that?

Then there was, er, the bathroom cabinet which Daniel built. Um, it didn't quite fit so he took off the window sill and the heater cover. Still not quite. So Monday he returns to take off the baseboard and see if that will do it.

Tonight Holly and I are going to see Pilobolus:

Attended a climate justice workshop this morning where we were encouraged to grieve the loss of so many things. Mine were the polar bears...wept through the morning with a bunch of strangers. A lot of parents fearful for their children. Felt so tired now so watching these young women in Nepal was enough to bring some comfort in. We do what we can...

Truly dark by 5 PM now. 

Well, waiting for the chimney sweep. My living room still smells like smoke after my one fire in the fireplace this fall. And they give me a 'range' when the person will show up. **sigh**

Maya and I are beginning to plan for my 70th birthday. How? Did? I? Get? Here? Time passes and one day you're getting your hair cut and noticing the jowls exactly like your mother you have hanging off your face.

We are looking at the Oregon coast so most can drive here. After the (never ending) fires in California, I am wanting most guests to be able to drive. My sister lives to hell and gone on the East Coast and Katrina lives in upstate NY so there's no hope for it but they both want to come. We're looking at way big houses near/on the beach with a hot tub and a game room for the teenagers and enough beds for most everyone. All my co-dependent tendencies are coming out with worrying about who will have to stay nearby and who can bunk together and on and on. And trusting that my brother won't say anything awkward to my trans friend. And who is vegan or vegetarian or paleo or wheat/gluten/nut etc sensitive.

My sister and Katrina will fly into Seattle and we'll drive down in my very small car...I'm getting ahead of myself.

My dear daughter is SO levelheaded. And diplomatic. Where the hell does she get it? Certainly not from me. I just can't seem to handle these family sort of things. I worry about everything. But lordy, these are people who want to celebrate with me and they are all wonderful even if they don't know each other.

I am hoping we can do a 'bad poetry' night. I'll encourage everyone to bring bad poetry-either Rod McKuen or Jewel or their own high school or college attempts. Self consciousness is an important ingredient, of course. I have a few books called Bad Poetry or Very Bad Poetry and one poem is called "The Queen of Cheese". It's,  um, very special.

Ok, so now i can officially call the chimney sweep place to find out if they're even coming.

The apocalypse

Maya in San Rafael texted that they're in the dark. She's got cat carriers, water, flashlights, extra clothes, food and a  small generator in her car. School is closed. She can't go to work because the doors are opened by a combination lock. They can light their stove but all the gas pumps are dark.

Eden in LA is ok. Haven't heard from my brother.

And here in the NW it looks like this:

Got nothing to say about  current events. Oil has contributed to global warming which causes the droughts and crazy weather patterns and hence fires and destruction. 

https://www.realclearpolitics.com/video/2019/09/23/greta_thunberg_to_un_climate_summit_you_have_stolen_my_dreams_and_my_childhood_with_your_empty_words_how_dare_you.html

This child spoke truth to power.

My friend Micha figured out how much fossil fuel it took to fly her to Greece and back. She was appalled. She wants to make art that doesn't include electronics because of components made with harmful chemicals and minerals. I suggested rocks and fallen trees and leaves. Stonehenge has lasted for a while and doesn't pollute, as far as I know. 

California is burning and al Baghdadi is dead

My daughter empties her fridge

no power in San Rafael

no school tomorrow

no work because the door combination is hard wired

gas pumps are dark

she has a plan

two cat carriers

a generator

water

a flashlight

the freeway is nearby

a man I know

taught to track and kill a deer

by his uncle on the rez

took his first when he was 14

still a boy

when he got back to the house

he danced and laughed

proud of himself

his uncle slapped him

hard

never rejoice when you take a life

the deer offered herself to you

so you might have food for the winter

today while men in a room watched

hundreds of miles from the tunnel filled with

dogs and soldiers

a man took his life and the lives of three children

our president described in great detail

'crying, screaming, cowardly'

'body parts identified by DNA'

'great' 'very bad' ' hatred'

where is uncle to slap him

teach him to take life, any life

is not honorable

no matter how necessary it may seem

we are all capable of murder

in our hearts

this will not stop ill will

this will not stop the illness of greed

my daughter lights candles

in her living room

her son is a few blocks away with his girlfriend

if they need to leave

they are ready

as she texted me-

“We're here in the dark,

waiting for the apocalypse.”

Felix has been groomed within an inch of his life. He has the pouffy tail and ears of a 'real' poodle. He doesn't seem to mind however. Dogs are very unselfconscious.

I hung a very large painting I did on the wall of the living room. I sincerely hope it doesn't fall down and scare the bejeezus out of me and the animals.

It's dark and rainy and cold here. The leaves are glorious.

I wonder how much more life I have. Rep Elijah Cummings was only 68, why a young man! And such a splendid man he was. I/we will miss him so much.

I tried to eliminate some ground wasps that are swarming by my front door. I felt so guilty. But they're still there. ***sigh***.

Craig is a man in my tai chi group. His form is beautiful, as is he. I told him I admired his form (meanwhile I stumble through the moves) and now he is (I think) flirting with me. Oh dear. I haven't had to tell a man I don't roll that way for years. He made one kinda homophobic comment and I didn't correct him... Anyway, I have no skills anymore. Not for flirting or deflecting flirting. It's a nice thing about being, er, older. He IS attractive. I did say I admired his form (and his hands and long legs). Oh dear. This shall amount to nothing, children.

I find it a bit annoying when friends lament my singledom. It's really ok, honest. Sure, I talk to myself. I can be a bit dotty. But I'm fine. I consult myself when I want to do things. And usually I am quite reasonable.

I love this season of cold and dark. Always have.

May all beings be warm and safe.

Trader Joe's is fecking evil. There is chocolate and sweet stuff ALL OVER THE STORE, not in just one area. It's everywhere, lurking when you least expect it.

Ok, I have poor impulse control. And I bought some peanut butter cups. And they are delicious.

At least my women were here tonight to meditate so I gave them some. But I ate way too many. Way, Too. Many.

Felix got a bath yesterday because they groomer was sick. I trapped him in the bathroom, got a  stool to put in the shower, took the shower head off the hook and washed the sad dog. He sat in the dining room, shivering. It wasn't THAT cold.  Anyway, as soon as I said the magic word (walk/hike/outside), he leapt into the air, all troubles forgotten.

Haircut next week.

The momma I was waiting on had a c/section. Unfortunately. I go see her tomorrow. Her kiddo is lovely. Too many surgeries to have babies. Not right. But in her case, necessary.

***sigh***

Good night, darlings

PS. Renee Zellweger is pretty darn good in "Judy". Just be ready for a tragic story. 

Waiting on a momma who called with ruptured membranes this morning. Waiting for the window cleaner person to arrive. What to do with the dog? Don't have an answer for that one right now. Felix is a shaggy, dirty mess and he has a date with the groomer tomorrow. Thank the lawd.

Amy is the name of the window person. She has been here once before and I will do better this time. She ( I think she prefers the pronoun she) arrived in a house dress (is that even a thing anymore?), a scarf on her head and a deep voice. Uh, I was not skillful, called her 'sir' a few times. Nope, don't think she is a sir but maybe she/he is a cross dresser and not trans but how to ask????

My friend Micha would just encourage me to ask her. Micha is a trans woman, or as she says, 'I'm just a WOMAN.' She is now happily in a lesbian relationship with someone who matches her in wisdom, smarts and wonderfulness. Did I say she's a professor at UCSC with a double PhD in gaming, virtual reality and computer programming? And she's an artist with an international following. She's wicked smart. And I love her. She has introduced me as her mother, so there's that. I'm so proud.

In spite of the hatred we don't have to sink down.

I am enjoying the impeachment brouhaha much more than is seemly. Arrests! Nonsensical pronouncements from the VP! Giuliani! etc.

The cold has arrived. And I have solar panels which will provide free heat, yay!!! Maybe this winter I won't be huddled up in a blanket in front of the fireplace with the cat around my neck.

Happy to be going to a birth. Haven't been to a birth for many months... It's like riding a bike. You never forget how. And this momma was at her friend's birth a few years ago. I was the midwife so she remembered me  and came into care with us. May the circle be unbroken..

Hear me out. Last Sunday I attended a Christian church service. They are graciously hosting my Buddhist sit and a Buddhist recovery meeting, all without cost (or very little cost). The church is beautiful, large windows, raised beds of flowers and veggies outside, a new mom pastor who led the service with a baby on her hip.

It's a small congregation, mostly older folks, a few younger people. They are politically active and their message is love your neighbor. I went because they were cleaning up the grounds around the church and on the street, including the parking circle. All were looking rather neglected. And I wanted to help out, to give back.

So I went to the service. I had a visceral reaction sitting there among the God talk and the Bible verses and the singing. It wasn't aversion exactly. It was more like a feeling of wrongness, like I shouldn't be there as an unbeliever. I definitely didn't take communion.

What's so different about my Buddhist practice from theirs. They have formed a family of sorts as I have with my Buddhist friends. They have stories that they read which are fantastical, I know they are metaphors but some folks believe them, especially kids. And there are Buddhist stories that are just as unrealistic.

So it comes down to the idea that we're sinners and we call on something outside ourselves to be cleansed which I just can't buy. Our original self is the world, we just have forgotten that we're part of everything and everyone. And we ARE that already. We don't need an intermediary to fix us or remove our sins or whatever.

I mean. They're good Christians. They pray for one another. They try to do good works in the world. They're not filled with hate. They're accepting of difference. They're the faith of my ancestors.

Cultural appropriation? Am I guilty of this? I don't know.   

Rachel and I drove from Denver to Seattle in three days. Wyoming and Montana are gorgeous. And the speed limit is 80, people. However, at a gas station stop in Wyoming, the sign on the door read, "Welcome to Wyoming. We all carry guns here".  Gulp.

We saw buffalo, antelope and a (dead) mountain lion in the road. We stayed in Spokane on our last night and the city has built the prettiest sculpture park around the river that runs through the center of town. We read to each other, played music, ate junk food and went to bed after sitting in the hotel  hot tub. Plus, I met her mother and her brothers. Somehow, when you meet the family, it rounds  out what you know about someone. While we were driving, my brother called so I put him on speaker phone and she got to 'meet' him too.

We were driving a newish car that she has inherited from her grandma who died recently. And this grandma was a hoarder, oh dear. I even got a handmade quilt that came from a stack in the basement.

My daughter recently sent me a few quilts  I made years ago. They are not exactly tattered, just well worn. I don't think they're worth fixing. She also sent me the christening gown my mother put each of us in when we were baptized.

The lace is  handmade and soooo tiny. Nope, beyond me. 

Fall is here, the days are shorter and darker. Rain has arrived. Births and deaths, all in the great cycle of life, as Maude from Harold and Maude would say. 

Dears-I'm back. I drove straight through, a 12 hour drive. I had thought I'd stop somewhere overnight, take a SHOWER and collapse into bed but I thought about MY bed and hot tub and pushed on.

It was amazing. It was hotter than hell. It was dusty as hell, with the wind whipping the dust into white-outs. The art was spectacular. The nakedness was, well, naked. I saw more dicks than I cared to see. Well, I do like the ladies better anyway. And I saw a lot of naked ladies too. Oh and public sex, or so I'm told.

I saw steam punk, hippy, random clothing. I rode a very heavy bicycle covered with fairy lights. Traveling around at night was magical-music, art cars, neon lights on the art, fire dancers, acrobats, etc etc. Too much to explain. Really. I didn't take many pictures but here's a sample:

That last photo is made entirely of cans, lids and plastic bottles. It clanked when the wind blew. Awesome.

I left before the man burned. I was done. I was filthy and sweaty and cranky. There was an ocean of alcohol and drugs which I did not partake of. I thought about it for a hot minute bu decided to eat well and go to bed at 10. Which I did every night. I got up early, made tea and went to the dance tent and danced my ass off. I drank lots of water.

Already I'm planning for next year (why, you ask). Because I learned many things about being comfortable. My kid had a magnificent set-up, tent with 'rooms', a real bed, a wooden floor, a dresser!!, multiple baskets for stuff, a real kitchen, a chaise lounge with a big sheepskin... I could go on and on. And shade. Big shade. We hung out. We made friends with our neighbors. I gave away blackberry jam. Some folks are minimalists. But I need some comforts. Even a bucket bath would have been heaven.

And by the way. Can we talk hair? When you don't wash your hair for 5 days, it turns into a type of helmet glued together with playa dust and sweat and occasional food. I couldn't get my fingers through it. It was special. I now understand why folks get their hair braided and they just leave it.

So I'm back and missing burning man. I don't even know why. It's so extreme and weird and wonderful.

I'll post more pictures when my kid gets home and send me some.

BTW. I went to the car wash today with my filthy dust and dead bug covered car and when I drove in, the guy said, 'what the fuck!' then he said he'd get their specialist. I laughed so hard I cried.

Here's the dash. It's usually black...

Today I  leave for Burning Man. I have an alarming amount of stuff piled up in my living room and it's all supposed to fit into my wee car plus a passenger with her meager (she tells me) belongings. Plus tying the bike to the new bike rack. Plus a 13+ hour drive to the effing desert where it will be a) very hot b) dry and dusty and c) inhospitable to most all life. Plus Felix decided to get diarrhea yesterday twice, poor guy, so I made him a giant container of rice and ground chicken which he LOVES, to take to Randy's house.

My animals know when I'm going on a trip. Felix gets morose and wants to be near me. Lola disappears. They always get good care while I'm away. Otherwise I couldn't feel released.

The garden is watered. The house swept and dusted, a thankless task. My Burning Man hat is complete with twinkly lights.

Anxiety is better. I asked a friend why I've been feeling so anxious about this trip-I prevaricated about everything; the long drive, my stranger passenger, the heat, food, stuff to bring, finding my daughter among 70,000 dusty participants, getting there after dark, etc, etc. He said, "Cuz you're old."

Oh. 

He said we get more anxious as we age. Is that true? I certainly don't trust my knees like I used to. I worry about money (well, that's not new). 

I'm leaving my computer at home. My phone will probably die while I'm there because there is no way to recharge it. Besides signals are spotty on the playa. I hope to get some photos. I will be able to charge it up on the ride home. 

For now, I'm gonna meditate, have some breakfast and continue to contemplate the tight packing situation. Then off I go to Portland to pick up Lisa, my passenger, who will help with gas and driving. And we're stopping about half-way there to spend the night at the Shady Inn Motel-no not the Bates Motel!, a cheap-o place just off I-5. Then on until morning....

Burning Man, here we come.

I just sat down. I danced this morning :-), walked the dog and picked up windfall apples in the park, a bunch of them. I also picked 6 cups of blackberries.

Then-more blackberry jam, apple sauce and a blackberry apple pie.

And there are more apples in the fridge, for another day, lordy.

I intend to take a shower today as I sweated mightily at dance but why?

The kitchen counter is stacked with jars of jam and sauce. The dish washer is running.

My body is so sore, my bones are sore. I could lie down and not get up until tomorrow but there will be women here in a bit to meditate together.

I listened to a TED talk about joy and play. I dance and I just started a tai chi class (!). Three days a week, two of those days outside in the beautiful Kubota gardens

http://www.kubotagarden.org/about-us/history/

The gardener was interned during WWII but returned to the garden and continued his work.

The other students are mostly older folks. The teacher calls out the moves, " white crane spreads its wings' and 'parts the horse's manes" while I do my best to follow along. The classes are free or $2, so sweet.

Today is  Eid al-Adha and down the street from my house, the park and the streets were overflowing with Muslims, the men and women in long flowing robes, little children running around. I worried, to see them all together but there were no incidents. Thursday a young woman confronted the landlord for the building where ICE is located in Seattle.

I'm making a pie and jam. I give jam away to my neighbors. I worry about my non English speaking neighbors. Their son assures me they are safe and citizens. They are old and grandparents.

Edward Espe Brown is my new hero. And he will be here in September. You bet I'll go see him.

https://www.audiodharma.org/teacher/27/

Go ahead, give him a listen. He laughs all through his talk. That's where I want to go, laughing at myself in the most loving way.

The pie smells done. I better go check.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/08/09/opinion/roxane-gay-toni-morrison.html?te=1&nl=in-her-words&emc=edit_gn_20190809?campaign_id=10&instance_id=11521&segment_id=16024&user_id=0bae082ea3ab776db3e2aa62524e6279&regi_id=8582783420190809

I'm going to Burning Man. Spoke to a gal in Portland who needs a ride and has a vehicle pass so I'm set. Now it's about collecting gear and wondering if I really am crazy. Supposed to be dusty, very dusty this year. Have ordered goggles and a face mask. Need a bike rack.

But really, have no sparkly clothes. I might just wind myself with fairy lights and call it good.

I just saw a post on their facebook page for smuggling in drugs. Glass butt plugs. Ah, no. Even if I were bringing drugs, which I'm definitely not, putting a glass plug in my butt sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Oh these kids today.

No drugs and no alcohol either. No way. I just hope it isn't a dust storm for 4 days...

In the meantime, I just put up 30 jars of blackberry jam. Blackberries are free everywhere in Seattle.
Free is a great thing.

I don't know why I'm going to Burning Man. It's been the most stressful experience ever. I now have a ticket but no ticket to park my car....I think I registered for the sale for parking tickets but I'm not sure and my computer is no help. Anyway, my last experience with purchasing a ticket was entirely awful after sitting there for 2 hours watching the little wheel go round and round and then the site crashed.

Sheesh. And now I've spent real money on a ticket and a bike to ride around on. I won't believe I'm actually attending until I'm actually there. And my car needs struts, whatever that is, and I should probably get them fixed before I go.

Whine, whine, whine.

However, I made granola today and I'm waiting for bread to come out of the oven. I'm having bread and fake butter for dinner. I promised Felix we would go swim/walk and it might be dark before we get there but, lordy, I need to go de-stress.

There are two rough looking guys down the street who are cleaning out a house so the owner can sell it. They are missing teeth and they have ropey arms, the kind of guys who have worked hard, been homeless a bit, spent a lot of time outside using their bodies. I've hired them to mow down the effing blackberries, nettles, horse tail, etc behind my house. It's a massive steep hill but they're willing to give it a go. They're even willing to cut down the laurel which will spring up in no time. They're very sweet. They witnessed the pit bull attack yesterday and one of them even hugged me.

I could be where they are, except for some luck.

Bless them.

Felix and I narrowly missed a pit bull attack this morning. He ran out at Felix with fierce barking and many teeth. I screamed and the neighbors came running. The guy who was the owner showed up with a big stick, yelling at the dog and got him away from Felix. Felix was completely unperturbed and uninjured. Sheesh. My heart was pounding.

Recently bought a book by Edward Espe Brown called 'Most Important Point'. He's the Tassahara Bread Book guy. I've used that book since the 70's and I still do.

Here's one of my 'babies' Hazel making her first loaf of bread. XXXX She asked if I'd show her and so I did.

Anyway, the book is beautiful and I've downloaded a few of his dharma talks. He laughs all through them because he finds himself so funny and human and humble and full of faults and mistakes. He's not the slightest bit spiritual or 'Buddhist' or anything. Even if he is a Zen priest. He's just a real person.

Well, time to sit with my friends.

Some of my favorite people about to engage in a snowball fight at Mt Lassen in California. The teenage boys did a lot of shrieking and belching. Because they are kinda gross. Ah, hormones.

Off to Manton, California tomorrow. Unaccountably nervous. Me and Felix. He needs heartworm medicine which the vet today didn't have... there's a Costco on the way to the lodge so we'll be stopping there to fill the prescription. This trip has been very costly, between the car shite and the dog so I better enjoy myself!

AND I got a ticket to Burning Man which is a scant month away, another road trip and I have to get it together with clothes and food and a crappy bike to ride around on the playa. As soon as I return from Manton, I'll start planning that trip. Sheesh.

O the trials of this first world person!!

The day I return from Manton, I'm teaching the Dharma for a friend in the evening. The topic is translated as suffering or dissatisfaction. And tanha which means 'thirst'. Thirst for things to be different or things to stay the same. Meanwhile the neighbors are making a terrific racket with a power washer and a hummingbird is at the feeder.

I've lost 7 pounds without trying. Or rather without weighing myself at all for a while. I'm eating so much less. The last retreat reset some kind of inner clock.

So I'll take some Dharma books with me and my computer and write something about dukkha (suffering), rehearse it and then speak without notes. That's how I roll.

Snake

a loop of cold lightening

hangs from the lowest branch

as she looks up into the dark

coiling and uncoiling

she lifts her airless body skyward

at the top

a mother bird scatters

chirps anxiously from a nearby tree

chirps chirps chirps

into the silence

at first I thought to stop this story

from going forward

snake unhinging her jaws

to consume an egg

or a chick

I would get a stick

lift the snake away from the nest

restore my version of order

kindness

what of the snake and her children

she is doing what she does

to survive

find the pulsing life

dragonflies

baby birds

frogs

who decides who lives

who dies

what is the right answer

is there a right answer

do you love the snake too?

Well, I did it. I borrowed money from a credit union who underwrites loans for solar panels and installation and they're gonna be here in September to install. My neighbor gave me permission to top his (ug) arbor vitae 5 feet. I mean, really, they are so tall they are growing higher than the roof line.

Then I'll have a low-interest loan payment for the next ten years, if I live that long.

And I've done my bit for global warming.

AND

My car is getting fixed all up and shite, I'm spending money like I have some. New tires, air filter, new battery, oil change etc. And I need new struts soon (whaaaaa) but I'm saving $ (?) by not flying to California. Maybe. It's the annual Mount Lassen/Manton trip and I'm bringing Felix this time. Me and the dog in my wee car. We're camping a few nights. I hope his nerves don't keep him up and woofing all night. We remember the CBD fiasco so I won't be trying that again. He'll have a blast once we get there, kids to play with and the pond to swim in.

But. I went to a new shop (to me) called Revolution Repair owned and operated by gender fluid folks. Trans men and women, old fashioned lesbians and the like. It was glorious after my time with the dealership shop. They took all day but they were so nice and thorough and did extra stuff like sprayed peppermint oil on my engine to deter rodents. I'm going back there, for sure.

Speaking of rodents, my tenant and I have seen GIANT rats in the garden and they are digging giant holes. Sigh. So Joey, the fabulous girlfriend of my tenant, is buying traps that electrocute them, not so Buddhist, I know. But ew.

Ok, I just saw a tiny bug crawling around INSIDE my computer screen. I think it might be the beginning of the end when the bugs and rats and blackberries take over and humankind becomes piles of bleached bones.

My 'roommate' returns from a conference today. She has three more weeks here and then she returns to New Orleans. And my house will be all mine again.

Today was busy with meetings and meetings and a gathering at my house to discuss (what else?) the dharma which means the way things are, the law of the universe, the teachings of the Buddha. I actually had a realization this week with a definition of dependent co-arising. I won't try to describe here but it helped to understand a bit more the relationship between our actions and their long range ramifications.

In simple terms, we effect our world by how we move through our world. Anger begets anger. Kindness begets kindness. We may not see the immediate results but it is there.

I recently saw a documentary called 'The Biggest Little Farm' which was filmed over 7-8 years on a 200 acre piece of property outside LA, in the midst of their terrible drought. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfDTM4JxHl8 The young people involved brought the land back from the desert by learning (sometimes) hard lessons about the nature of life. Pests, predators, ill animals, all came into play as they learned the balance of nature; brutal, exacting and persistent. They fed the soil and in return, the soil fed them, literally. Without pesticides, without shooting the coyotes (!), holding their anger, frustration and sorrow for the way things are.

We humans are too made of the elements and as we forget that, we perish. As I sit here in my little house, I look out at the trees and the bird feeders and the holes in the lettuce leaves and I think about the way I want everything to look, to be and I'll never be rid of the bamboo in my side yard or the blackberries that threaten to climb into my garden from the greenbelt. That plant is hardy! I do appreciate the berries for making jam but they prick and bite so care is always important.

In a few weeks, I'll be driving through the drought affected California scrub. It is a wonder to see what does live in a dried out area. One of the things the movie makers did was install an infrared camera on the perimeter of their property to try to figure out what was out there beyond their fences. Coyotes, raccoons, cougars, a badger, a weasel, owls, all sorts of nocturnal critters invisible in the daytime. So much to wonder at, what we don't see. The wide world is still full of magic.

I met a friend yesterday for a dog walk and a Dharma chat. The Buddha encouraged his followers to hang out with Kalyanamita- literally spiritual friends. When I hike with Holly, we talk about the meaning of co-arising or causes and conditions. Rachel is on a journey of discovery which includes her study of deep trauma, Judith has a steady sitting practice and holds her own pain with grace. I am so grateful for these friends who are studying and probing and questioning the causes and remedies for suffering.

I feel that those of you who read here are also deeply practicing and deeply living your lives; with your passions and disappointments and thoughtful investigations into the nature of existence, all existence.

The babies flow on and on. Parents do the best they can to raise their children with the least amount of harm. I remind myself that most of us do a pretty good job. The news cycle is full of aberrant parenting because the good parents aren't 'news'. My neighbors are raising their twin girls with the grandparents living next door. They have learned to ride their bikes under their grandmother's watchful eye. She tells me 'bonita, bonita' when she watches me water my garden. Their little white dog runs from house to house.

When we were done with our walk, Glenn asked if I wanted to meditate in the park. We found a place surrounded by flowers and sat on the grass. Eventually it began to rain, very softly. I could feel the drops in my hair and on my skin. As first I thought we should move or stop but I remembered that the Buddha instructed his followers find a quiet place, sit under a tree and meditate. We could hear children playing in the playground and there was some large machinery nearby but we continued to sit, the rain gently blessing us.

Right now the house is still. The dog is at my feet, the cat is lying in a patch of sunlight. Gratitude flows through me.

Dears-

The weather here is beautiful, cool and sunny. I'm in a funk but this morning I went into my studio and threw some colors on canvas. Now the long awaited dog walk and a trip to the pea patch to weed and water and harvest.

A few nights ago I went to a reading by Ocean Vuong for his new book, "On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous." I'm still in a state of wonderment. I have his book of poetry, "Night Sky With Exit Wounds" after encountering his work in the NYT. I taped them to my kitchen wall. You know when you read something that makes the landscape tip and suddenly the trees and sky are unfamiliar and you've entered a new reality? His work and his Q and A after he read!!! Please look for him on youtube.

My silent retreat was transformative. Sitting with nuns who have given their lives to the study of the Dharma, how to explain the warmth and kindness of their regard for all of us? I'm still mining the work I did in that week. It's taken me a while to 'come back' or maybe I've stepped over a threshold into some new understanding.

My little cat just caught and ate a spider while I was sitting here.

Being with the mystery today.

Garden bounty. The lettuce has slugs and the strawberries are sour but they grew in my pea patch and I'm grateful. Going on a week of a rotten cold with an impressive cough but going to work tomorrow in spite of it all. Taking cough syrup and throat lozenges and if it gets too bad, a percocet to keep the cough away. On Friday I leave for a week in the forest to sit with the Vipassana nuns.  I offered a ride to someone on the ride board and when I said 'the nuns' retreat' she said, 'whaa?' Oh dear. well, we'll have a few hours to chat on the way there.

In the West we don't really understand the concept of monastic life...well the Catholics have monks and nuns but in the East, the monastic community is an integral part of everyday life. You see robed men and women everywhere, in the open air markets and walking on the streets. And they go on alms rounds with their bowls. Every household supports the monastic community with food, shelter, clothing and medicine. In return, the monks and nuns offer the teaching of the Buddha freely, all who ask. It's a major renunciation, leaving everything behind to live in a monastery and be dependent on the generosity of the surrounding community. A tradition that has been going on for more than 2600 years. Unfortunately, the wealth is not equally distributed. Nuns are more often neglected and will disrobe because they are unsupported. In the West it is even more dire. There are a few nun communities on the West coast with women who grew disenchanted with the obvious misogyny of Eastern monasteries and have planted themselves in small communities in California. We who live out here have the benefit of their deep practice and humility. I've had the good fortune to sit with a number of remarkable women over the years and this retreat will be no exception.

It's just too bad that the larger community is largely unaware of the plight of Western (and Eastern) nuns. The patriarchy is a mean and powerful bastard. 

So the young woman I am picking up Friday morning to drive to the retreat will be 'treated' to a lecture. Or maybe I've gotten my righteous indignation out of my system and we will have a quiet discussion of the nuns' situation...

The teachings from these gentle, wise women is truly a rare privilege. Let's hope I'm not still hacking and snorting with this everlovin' cold.