There I am. Without swimming I'm done for. I hope they can lower me into the water when I'm too old to get there on my own.

 Dear friends-

I did it. I swam from Martha Washington to Seward Park with Robb on a paddle board beside me. I alternated between anxiety, fear, elation and calm. The water was mostly calm with some wavy bits. I found myself grinning the closer and closer I got to the shoreline. It's about 1/2 mile, I guess. No soreness the next day either. I am officially a badass. 

Now next challenge...swim a longer distance, right?

Sweet young Nik came over and tiled my backsplash in 2 days. Beautiful. However getting the outlets back into the spaces he left has presented a challenge for me to solve. Ah well. 

Starting a mindfulness based childbirth class tonight, goes all weekend. Unfortunately the blue angels (yuck, nothing about them is angelic) will be overhead. They are 30 BILLION dollars fighter jets that do formations in the sky directly over our neighborhood. They are incredibly LOUD and scary. This happens every year.

Just visited an Olmstead park in my old neighborhood. The Volunteer coordinator contacted me because I'm looking for volunteer hours for chaplaincy. And she wants me to initiate sitting/walking meditations (!) among the greenhouses and the gorgeous trees, some of which are more than 100 years old. There's even a gigantic sequoia on the grounds. I am screaming, I'm so excited. What she/they want is exactly what I want to be doing. The one catch is making $$ for the park, after a two year shut down, they're pretty broke. I can ask for dana donations. I of course, require no $$. We also talked about bringing in folks who need to rest their anxious/fearful minds and hearts from the current fuckery, to allow them to rest and give and get love from the trees. The conservatory is gorgeous too and we walked through the back lot where the maturing plants are. 

Well, time for a swim in my big momma lake. Sooooo grateful she is so near by. 

Pema Chodron, in the new edition of When Things Fall Apart, reminds us the this moment is the path, just this moment with its' misery, joy, confusion, anger and peace. The only path we're on. This living moment. 

May we all walk with awareness in this present and precious moment. 

Much big love. 

Her voice like a bell

Wow

 It's summer hot here today and I'm volunteering at Kubota gardens, one of my favorite places. It's normal hot here today, unlike other parts of the country. 

Pulling weeds is what I can do. Following the news is painful so I avoid it. The NYT is my source, already a week old. I read once that a man in the outback of Alaska came into town once a year for supplies and he was given the daily papers from the previous year, all the news that was a year old. He started with January one and went through each day with a year old paper. How would that be? Knowing what happened the year before, thinking about it with no recourse to fret about it (well, I suppose you could) but it was all in the past. I don't think I could read the daily paper from 2021 without breaking down. Or maybe I'd just stick to the crosswords and Wordle and what the celebrities are up to. You know, Spanks and designer clothes and the Oscars. Really important stuff. 

My AC is a beautiful thing. 

Well, I better go get my gardening jam on. A hat. Sunscreen. Sandals. I already have my bathing suit on for later. 

 

Dear ones,

I have been working to figure out how/what the hell am I doing with chaplaincy, whatever that might be. 

I have thought I'd be helping traumatized healthcare workers who have witnessed terrible things at their jobs. Where is the respite for us???

But.

As I go through this journey I have discovered that I am being pulled toward my non-human friends. All of the Earth. Her trees and frogs and birds and rocks and waterfalls and more trees. Diane and I did a hike called Lake 22 up by Granite Falls, north of Seattle. 

It was spectacular. And hard. The old growth trees were the largest old growth I've even seen in the PNW.  Trail ended at a snow fed alpine lake. We scrambled over rocks and sweated and ate our peanut butter sandwiches. There were so many trees, so many beautiful trees. I told Diane I wanted to do my chaplaincy right there, among those old women. 

Haven't we always loved the Earth? As children we discovered the smells and sounds and creatures as we lay on our stomachs watching the most minute bugs and snails and the occasional garter snake. I would crawl under the bushes in my yard and construct tiny houses for the fairies who lived there. I climbed trees just to sit there and look out at the world. 

I told my teacher that I felt loving the Earth was somehow less important than ministering to humans. She gently reminded me that we are not separate from all of life, that we are inextricably bound to Her body, fed from Her body, one day to return to her body. 

Well, of course. 

So how do I enter into an intimacy with the Earth herself? I know and I don't know. 

She is our mother and we are all her children. How could I have forgotten? 

I'm being called home.  Home.

 Here I admit things I don't anywhere else. I guess I'm willing to be embarrassed in a post. 

I have watched Young Royals twenty eleven thousand times. It's beautiful and heartbreaking and sexy and troubling. The acting is gorgeous. Season two can't come soon enough. Like HeartStoppers. Jeezus, adolescence. As the art teacher in HeartStoppers says, "Being a teenager is terrible."

Rachel, a buddy in my chaplaincy program texted me this:

"I'm just gonna watch teen television, work at a cemetery and pretend the world doesn't exist." My sentiments exactly, well maybe not the cemetery part (part of her volunteer hours). 

I still cry so often. Am I depressed? Scared? Overwhelmed? All of it? Boris Johnson is gone and that's good. 

In an hour I go pick up Diane (AKA Jolene, my preferred nickname for her as she is from the south). We'll hold hands in the car, I'll cry some more, we'll walk the dog and then we'll go to the spa for soaks and massages and Korean food in their little cafe. Then we'll come back to my house and we will just be together. I can hug her and she can hug me. We'll talk and laugh and get serious about trust and love. I don't know how to do any of this and I'm not sure I ever did. Me and the teens being all awkward and clumsy and weird as we try to figure it out. 

GAWD. 

For fucksake I'm OLD. 

Love you all. 

Joshua Hyslop - More Than This [Audio]

 Dare I write this? December 3rd, 2022.

We're gonna get married. OMG. I know I thought I would marry someone back in 2017 and that was a HUGE mistake.  And I didn't marry her. This is not a mistake. Diane;  funny, talkative, quirky, thoughtful, tender, trustworthy and lovable, this person who I have loved forever. So much history, so much water under the bridge.

We needed to grow up, deal with our shit and land (in our 70's!) with our open hearts. 

If we lose our constitutional right to marry, we'll be ok in Washington State. Jeezus.

Because of Roe, I'm coming out all over again. At this age, I'm invisible anyway. So I'm owning it and letting people know. This is what a queer person looks like. We're everywhere. As I have made my way through many documentaries about queers and trans folk, the damage it has done to people who can't come out or the people who do or can't hide who they are who have been shamed and shunned and beat up and killed, I have to show up for them. Maybe I posted this before but I'll keep saying this. 

May we all be free from fear and hate. May we all live lives of beauty and peace.

Tonight we go dancing together. In a candle lit room with gorgeous music. Every day, every minute is precious.

 

 

 Let Them Not Say

Jane Hirshfield - 1953-

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Let them not say:   we did not see it.
We saw.

Let them not say:   we did not hear it.
We heard.

Let them not say:     they did not taste it.
We ate, we trembled.

Let them not say:   it was not spoken, not written.
We spoke,
we witnessed with voices and hands.

Let them not say:     they did nothing.
We did not-enough.

Let them say, as they must say something: 

A kerosene beauty.
It burned.

Let them say we warmed ourselves by it,
read by its light, praised,
and it burned.

 Today at the pool, a young pregnant woman asked how I was. I replied that it wasn't my best day. She teared up and said she was worried about her daughter who will be born in September. I cried with her as she said, "And I'm gay".

I worry about my trans friends and my queer friends. And all the women who will have to carry unwanted pregnancies or who will attempt to miscarry and hurt or kill themselves. I worry about the poor and marginalized. 

Dangerous times. United States we are not.

We are not. 

 Dear friends-

$125.35-------Current student loan balance

                                                          PAID IN FULL

I graduated in 2002, yep, twenty years ago. 

Time for a small celebration. 

 My dears,

I'm back from the wilds of California (and many driving hours and $$$ gas money) to spend time with my family, well, parts of my family. My grandson is lovely and wonderful and my heart bursts with pride to spend time with him. He's polite and funny and nice to everyone. His girlfriend came (wearing braces) and they are traveling to Greece with her family this summer and then they have agreed to part ways as love interests because they want to explore others and themselves. What teenagers are so deliberate and thoughtful? He even asked if I minded that he drank a beer??? I reminded him of my family hx of alcoholism and the evils of alcohol in general. But I was so impressed that he ASKED ME. Of course he can have a beer, dearest boy. There were more adults around than kids and we were in the middle of nowhere. He's a sensible guy and I can't explain how much I love him. 

My old girlfriend came too. Last minute she called and we arranged for her to fly to Sacramento where I would pick her up...it was wild, added miles and time to my drive but I didn't mind. We'll see each other again in October...and December...and February. Be still, my heart. We talked endlessly and laughed and held  each other and kissed. At our ages, honestly. Her kisses still make my toes curl. And that's all we did.

I have been reflecting on all of this rekindling and I have realized some things. 

My mindfulness and meditation practice is affected by some excitement and distraction. I'm noticing and tending to these feelings with curiosity and tenderness. 

When I came out many years ago, she was the first person  I fell deeply in love with. Deeply. In. Love. We had so much to work on and over the years, we have. She's still the same and she's totally different. Just like me. I  have released her over and over, with anger, resignation, sorrow, all the ways. 

Now I have no expectations. We may visit each other 4-5 times a year and live on opposite sides of the country. Maybe we'll live together again one day. I don't know. Before, everything felt so important, so imperative. Now, I'm ok alone and I'm ok with her. Both ways are satisfying and peaceful. 

Back in Seattle, one of the midwives has covid (natch), so I'm on call today, tomorrow and Saturday. I really hope I can go to Pride on Sunday. This year feels so important to show up. 

Before our rights are taken away. When I think of my beloveds who are queer and trans and non-binary, I feel so much sadness and fear. Losing Roe, what's next. So I will go downtown and cheer and yell for all the drag queens and muscle boys and marching bands and dykes on bikes and all of us in our variety and glory. I will remember the ones we lost along the way; to AIDS and hate crimes, addiction and suicides. 

Living with this undefended heart is so hard-to just let the pain and sorrow in, to feel it, to tend to it, without hatred and anger. 

I will be there  for Tommy and James and Jim and Crazy Thunder and Clark and Paul and Chase and Richard and Kenny and Alison and Hazel and Micha and Diane and Robin and Gina  and Michi and Holly and Judith and Hazel and Raven and so many others, for all of us who came out.

Ólafur Arnalds - Full Performance (Live on KEXP)

Me and Clark saw/heard/experienced this musician and I must say my wee mind was     BLOWN    by gale force winds. There were pianos and strings and a drummer and they're from Iceland which might be in another galaxy. This group had been cancelled twice in Seattle over the last few years because of, you know, and they were so GRATEFUL to be performing in front of a live audience. 

Clark and I cried and gasped and held hands. I'll send another clip of them. Absolutely phenomenal.  

Ólafur Arnalds - Zero

Dear friends-

It has been a rough week. Today feeling better, some better. The sorrow of the world bears down. We are in this together, of that I am sure. And all I know is to love family, friends and strangers alike. Especially the strangers, the most desperate among us. I can't call those that pull the trigger monster. They are someone's child, baby, relative. I recently read that adolescent gunmen are suicidal and wanting to die. They just take others with them and cause untold suffering. But deranged? Sure. But they are someone's kid too.  If we can find a label, then we've 'solved' the problem, contained. That's not how it works. 

We're in a world out of balance. Guns ARE the problem. When will it end? When? And how do we continue to love the world anyway we can? 

 There is nothing to say right now. I was in ignorance on Tuesday until I wasn't.

How do we bear the most terrible news? We are the mother of the boy with the gun. We are the mother of the dead child on a classroom floor. We are the law enforcement person who rescues their child but not others from the deadly building. We are the governor saying words that don't make sense, that continue to harm. 

And that's all I have. I do not understand my fellow humans. 

 Dear friends

Warm and overcast. 

My mind a muddle and my emotions are churning. I'm letting love in again and I don't mean universal, ever expanding love for all beings. I mean love for a particular person. Someone I've known for a long time. And I'm twitterpated. Seriously. I think 'those' feelings have been in the deep freeze for a long time and then the pandemic and all the things. 

Mostly I've been FINE with isolation and quiet. And my practice. I am certainly see how romantic love messes everything up, rearranges everything. As Ronny so famously said in Moonstruck, 

"Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart."

So there you have it. I will say no more. To touch into this too deeply, maybe it will go away. For the time being, I'm doing all the usual things; swimming, dog stuff, laundry, gardening. And allowing my heart to open (and break).

Two deep breaths, darlings. 

Ólafur Arnalds with friends

Clark and I are going to see them next week!!!

Nancy and I went to The Marriage of Figaro on Saturday. What a blast. I feel semi-normal going to see things. Of course we were masked. 

Music is essential. 

Much love

 Dear friends-

Today Diane and I hiked Oyster Dome in Bellingham, about 1 1/2 hours from Seattle. Sunny day, about 5 miles, incredible view at the top of the Sound dotted with islands. However, we, um, took the wrong trail back to the car and ended up WAAAAAYYYY far from the car. So. 

As we neared the road we were not supposed to be on at the end of our hike, and realizing we were lost, a young man ***Johnny*** was just ahead of us and I asked, "would you be willing to drive us to our car?" Without hesitation, he said yes. 

Our angel with the beautiful blue eyes from Ketchikan who is currently working in a nursing home. 

Thank you Johnny. We ended up hiking 8 + miles on our old legs. But the view 

was pretty spectacular. And you saved our bacon. We love you forever. 

Dear friends-

Studying with Roshi Joan this weekend and just weeping a lot. You know, the kind where the tears just leak out. There are too many things to list so I won't. I know you know.

A bit ago, I got a message from DoorDash telling me my delivery would be a bit late????? I responded that I had't ordered anything from them??? and perhaps they had the wrong number. A while later, a young guy came to my gate with a large vase of flowers from my daughter for mother's day. Ha! He apologized for spoiling the surprise. I was so flummoxed I didn't tip him. Oops.  

Saw an old woman wearing a pussy hat when I walked the dog. It's that time again. Will be writing letters to strangers again to get out the vote. 

We are in the grip of Mordor, I'm afraid. 

I'm angry and sad. 

Meanwhile the garden continues to be extravagantly gorgeous. Nature don't care what we stoopid humans get up to. Still no hummingbirds. I'm worried about them. 

While practicing a death meditation, Felix came in and breathed loudly and fragrantly in my face. He just doesn't let me get too serious. Because he's a goof.

Much love, comrades. Keep up the good fight and love one another fiercely. 

Beth

Dear friends-

While at the pool today, I hopped into the water just before the swimmer in the other lane got to the wall. Thinking that she was swimming slowly, I'd have time to get ahead of her (always a jostle in the pool with multiple swimmers in a lane). Well, she zoomed by me in the water in time to yell at me at the other end of the lane. I was 'very rude', cutting in front of her. I apologized profusely but she harrumphed off. So I spend the next 20 minutes feeling like a shithead, I mean, how could I be so thoughtless etc. I waited to be sure she'd be gone from the locker room and I got into the hot tub when my fav life guard came over and told me he saw everything. I did nothing wrong. He almost spoke to her but didn't want to rile things up. 

Whew! Tempest in a teapot! 

I think we don't know how to be around people anymore. I surely don't. My feelings are so easily hurt. As my parents always said, I'm too sensitive (whatever that means). 

Anyway, spring here is cold, wet and beautiful. I've planted a tree peony and more azaleas. The apple trees are covered with blossoms and the dogwood is blooming too. I saw one of the cold water swimmers at the pool and she swims year round. She says the water is getting close to being 50 degrees. People, that's too effing cold. 

 My brother rescuing ducklings from a storm drain in Peasant Hills California. He says the mother duck was walking round and round with her 2 babies and when he looked in, there were about 10 ducklings trapped. He moved the grate and plucked them out. My brother the hero. Our father would have done the same thing. 

Haven't seen any babies yet at the lake but two of my three birdhouses have tenants. Chickadees. 

Love to you all. 

 Today is my death day. One year ago, I started a One Year To Live study and here we are. Next week we are born again. This morning I opened this message from my older daughter and sat crying in the food co-op.

Happy death day mama. 

I’m so glad you will be reborn today xoxoxo

Epitaph  - By Merrit Malloy

When I die

Give what’s left of me away

To children

And old men that wait to die.

And if you need to cry,

Cry for your brother

Walking the street beside you.

And when you need me,

Put your arms

Around anyone

And give them

What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,

Something better

Than words

Or sounds.

Look for me

In the people I’ve known

Or loved,

And if you cannot give me away,

At least let me live on in your eyes

And not your mind.

You can love me most

By letting

Hands touch hands,

By letting bodies touch bodies,

And by letting go

Of children

That need to be free.

Love doesn’t die,

People do.

So, when all that’s left of me

Is love,

Give me away.

Easter Wishes Cold Open - SNL

 Still unseasonably cold here but the flowers persist. I haven't seen any hummingbirds at all. Wonder where they are. 

Going to work in the greenbelt this morning. We'll be clearing blackberries and ivy. There's a downed tree over the trail, don't know how that will be resolved. There's an abandoned (I think) homeless encampment too so that will be an issue. I walk through the greenbelt all the time so it's time to give back.

Been very busy with clinic. One of the midwives got sick so I stepped in, went to a birth, have done a bunch of home visits and worked an extra day of clinic. It's fun to be with my clinic 'family.' I don't know any other folks who are so funny and cynical and caring, all at the same time. I am reminded that I spend so much time in silence, being in a noisy clinic full of yelling kids  and pregnant women is quite an adjustment. I'm also reminded that the midwives and the office manager are my friends. I care about them and their lives. 

The kaffer lily is blooming, always does around Easter time. As I write this, I looked up the definition of 'kaffir' and found that it is an 'extremely offensive word for a Black South African.' Great. Well, let's give it a new name, k? Any suggestions? 

It has a nice fragrance. BTW, I've had this plant since 1976. Got it as a wedding present.

 It snowed (!), then hailed and rained and then the sun came out. The garden is gorgeous right now.

And this is just one tree flouncing her flounces.

Waiting on mothers at the brink of labor. Tomorrow Clark and I will eat delicious food, wear blue hats and watch Moonstruck with Cher and Nicholas Cage. It's pretty much a perfect movie. Because 1) Cher and 2) demented Nicholas. And NYC and the script and accents and the whole thing. 

It always helps to walk around in my neighborhood. There's the vicious doberman where we cross the street so he and Felix don't have a snarling dog argument. There's the fish market with crabs piled on top of each other in tanks. As much as I love crab, I just can't seem to eat them anymore. There's the neighbor with the wild assortment of ceramic elves, frogs, sheep, the baby Jeezus etc. as a tableaux. There's the woman with the beautiful garden and the view of the lake. 

I was thinking about Elizabeth's Sophie today. I met her in LA. The famous Sophie. She radiates love. I don't know how to explain it. She is present in ways most of us aren't. 

The chickadees and juncos are feasting on the seed I spread out for them just now. I haven't seen the hummingbirds lately. Maybe they're tending to their families. 

I just finished a book called The Chimpanzee Whisperer: A Life of Love and Loss, Compassion and Conservation. It's about a Hutu man from Burundi who survived the war and found himself caring for chimps in protected reserves in spite of his third grade education. Because of his great heart and kindness towards the primates most closely linked to homo sapiens he has traveled the world and spoken at the UN and met (of course) Jane Goodall. Oh, and he has bunch of kids, both his and adopted. He is everything Putin and Bezos and half the congress are not. He's a mensch. A good person. 

The thing is, when the Dalai Lama meets anyone and I mean anyone, he treats them as his friend. I'm just not there. 

The last retreat I attended was a deep dive. There were over 200 people on the retreat. I like to think there are many of us who are doing their best to be ethical and kind and generous. Every one of us counts. 

 Two things happened today that made me cry.

1.  The first Black woman was confirmed to the Supreme Court.

2.   The hot tub at the pool opened. 

Both are occasions for radiant joy, 

 On another retreat. With 

this guy.

He's German, multiple PhDs, many books, many languages including Chinese and Pali. His books are dense and in person he's funny, kind and wise. I'm enjoying spending time with him and the class of 200+ people on Zoom. 

Spring is well and truly here. The magnolia tree down the street is ridiculously gorgeous. Massive. Covered with flowers. Tiny lettuce and spinach greens poking up through the dirt. 

Much love and kindness radiating all around, dear ones.

Keith Urban performs "Higher Love" | One World: Together at Home

I told my child I've been listening to Keith Urban and she said, oh mom, NO. I told her I'm officially an elder and I can listen to whatever the fuck I want. 

It's Sunday and pissing rain. The dog is a muddy mess. 

Just out of my recent retreat...

May we realize that this earth is sacred and live accordingly.

May the suffering arising from oppression, hatred, and fear be righted and remedied.

May all those in the grips of insecurity be released to the safety of understanding.

May those weighed down by grief be given over to compassion.

May those lost in delusion find relief in the path of wisdom.

May all wounds to forest, rivers, deserts, oceans, all wounds to the earth be witnessed and healed through our right action.

May we work for the ending of suffering from consumerism, the climate catastrophe, war, economic disparity, racism, sexual violence, and the abuse of children.

May those in refugee camps and prisons find their way home, with our support.

May those who are alone or abandoned by friends and family, and those who are unsheltered find a safe and loving harbor in community.

May we have deep time in practice with each other and in the solitudes, to be taught by sangha and by silence, so that we have the courage and equanimity to be a source of love and wisdom for all beings.

May we all have the health, wisdom and energy to serve in the years ahead.

May all awaken and awaken others.

Roshi Joan Halifax

 Dear friends-

I am now functioning after my first week of chaplaincy training and boy howdy. It was so intense to be in that container (as they say) for 5 days. Partly I was having trouble keeping up with note taking and the language. My practice is Vipassana and the training is coming from Soto Zen with all sorts of other things thrown in (systems theory anyone?) So to say I was running in place would be putting it mildly. Well they warned us. By language I mean the expressions and buzz words which weren't familiar to me. Kinda like learning a new language where I have some understanding and can make the mental leaps. I was so tired each night...

I have already let go of a few commitments. I just won't have the time. Plus I have papers to write. I'm sitting here procrastinating because I partially wrote one paper yesterday and need to finish it before tomorrow night when I go back into retreat for the weekend. 

Roshi Joan Halifax is remarkable and wise and tough and loving. Even though she's in her early 80's, she was present for most of the classes and she taught a few of them. 

Now I have to figure out how to use Slack, an online platform for groups (ug) and record all my various meetings, classes, book reviews, etc etc for the year. I bought a paper year calendar that is folded up on my desk because using the calendar in my phone just isn't useful. If I survive this year, there's another year and a big paper to write. My Dharma teacher and friend reminded me to stay in the moment and don't future trip. Sorry, can't help it. 

BTW-ever notice how some words we use came right from the hippies and the 60's? Tripping and freaking out, for example. 

Also BTW-I finished Michael Pollan's latest book, Your Mind on Plants and I wrote him a little email thanking him for his work and his obvious concern for the earth and us. And he wrote back!! How cool (60's reference or maybe the beats/jazz?) is that???

Love you all forever.

The Linda Lindas Talk About “Racist, Sexist Boy” & Perform Live!

They're teenagers!!! I have hope.

Watch a Breathtaking Monarch Butterfly Swarm

 Today I was in the Apple store at the SouthCenter mall (don't ask) and one of the clerks, a young man, had a kaleidoscope of butterflies tattooed on his forearm. (Yes, a bunch of butterflies is called a kaleidoscope.) 

Lovely. A young man beautiful enough to have visible butterflies. There are so many lives worth honoring.  

 I don't understand what is happening in the world right now. A friend of my daughters is thinking about going to Ukraine to fight with the Ukrainians. He has no military experience. None. 

Gawd.

In other news, we saw a coyote in the back yard this morning. No wonder Felix was barking.

Remembering Paul Farmer, a giant in the world of public health

 Dear friends-

On Thursday my grandson flies up here BY HIMSELF.  I have that darling boy for 24 hours before his mother arrives. I am hoping to get into some trouble before she gets here. I'm not sure what kind but we'll think of something. Maybe we'll go to Tiger Mountain or even Mt Rainier. So sorry I have a bum leg and am hobbling around. Maybe I'll just take drugs and be out of pain for the day. Not the wisest course of action. We could just lie around and eat cookies and brownies and grandma's granola. And play with Felix. And talk about stuff. I'm still thinking about his Xbox and Grand Theft Auto which he put me in charge of so he could pee. He gave me the controls and I managed to crash into trees, other cars, cliffs and I even became airborne which is when I lost the driver. She just sort of fell out of the car and met her untimely end. If any of you have tried XBOX, I wish you luck. When Milo returned to the scene of the carnage, he managed to acquire another vehicle by stealing it and then he proceeded to run red lights and in general break the law in all kinds of ways. We laughed so much. 

I begin more trainings soon. The chaplaincy program is coming right up and I just got the syllabus. Uh-oh. It's many pages and much studying. There must be 100 books listed. Fortunately we only have to do 8 book reports. The final project is 30 pages plus footnotes. Not to mention 100 hours of volunteer work. I'm already doing mucho volunteer stuff but I don't know if any of it counts. Plus I'm not 'supervised'. I might look into 'death doula' work at the local hospital. There's probably a training I'll have to do. How will I fit all this in? I have so much unstructured time right now. I think that's about to end. 

Ah well. 

There is blue sky out there and Felix is staring at me as usual. It's gonna get cold here pretty soon. Hopefully no snow. 

May we all be safe and warm and happy.

 

Dear friends-

My brother Dirk called on Valentine's Day to tell me Dave had died. He was our older brother, the first to get out and go far away. My parents told him his biological mother was dead. He was 5 years old. When he became an adult, he found out that had been a lie and he searched and found her in Florida. They had an adult relationship until she passed away. 

Who does that sort of thing?

There is so much more I could say about his young life but I won't. It was hard. He was treated with much cruelty. I adored him. He was in high school and I thought he was an Adonis. I'm sure he was, now that I think about it. 

He was in a memory care facility. For the past year and a half, he no longer recognized his wife of 57 years. She sounded relieved. She said he had been a good father and a good husband, a good provider. 

We all knew he hated our parents, probably until he died. Maybe he was able to let it all go so he could go too. 

I hope he is free now from his pain and suffering. He had love, he had joy. He built a life in spite of the cruelty he endured. 

Bless you Dave,

Love, 

Beth

 Dear ones-

Life has gotten busy. Lots of sitting practice, chaplaincy starting in a month, my family coming to town for my birthday (hooray!), groups I facilitate, whew. 

And my dear Sara's mother died so she was in Texas dealing with everything and we were catching babies and seeing mommas in the clinic and I'm about to take three days of call, oh boy. 

Makes me think I should finally retire...how long will I say that, I wonder?

Spring is starting to spring here. Daffs, crocuses, buds on the daphne and Japanese maple. The lake is only 40 degrees so no swimming yet although I know Clark is watching the temps closely. I can hardly imagine squashing into my wetsuit and getting into water so cold my hands freeze. 

Fridays at the pool they turn on the water slide for the last 10 minutes of our lap swim. All us old, infirm etc folks climb up the long ladder and jet on down  with much squealing and yelping. Very satisfying. 

Well, I must go and find a reading for the meditation tonight. 

May you all be well and safe and filled with joy.

 Dear friends-

I have a new tenant. Her name is Emily and she is a partner in the midwifery practice. She's young and bright and full of energy. She remembers way more than I ever will. Or could. Our 'boss' Sara has left for Texas to disconnect her mother from life support. We are scrambling to figure out the call schedule and the patient shuffle. Poor Sara. Such a heavy burden. Her mother was her guiding light. Her mother and I are the same age. It's so interesting to contemplate, our demise. When? And how? 

Dealing with some aches and pains which have not kept me from the swimming pool, thank the baby Jesus. I have visited a nice young PT who has me doing exercises with stretchy things. Humbling. The aging body and mind. 

I'm wondering if there is a person or persons who could advise me about heating this old house. The gas furnace is looking geriatric and only heats the front of the house, the living room and kitchen. The back of the house has electric wall heaters that are mostly inadequate. I have solar panels and could have some monstrous healing system back there because my electric bill is nominal. I wear my coat in the house and heat my bed with a mattress warmer (yummy). Still I feel very 17th century with bundling up in the house. Judith lives on a houseboat and that's cold! She's always got her down coat on. 

I'm grateful for the cold. Especially when I think about the dreadful heat we had last year and will again.

My children and grandchild are visiting for my birthday in February. I am beyond happy about that. I have traveled back and forth to California numerous times and now it's their turn to visit me. The only thing I want to do besides cook and eat and hang out is go to the Korean spa for a few hours to get scrubbed and massaged and soaked. And eat Korean waffles roll-ups (divine). 

This might be an appalling post but such is my life. 

Last week:

 

 Dear friends-

Thich Nhat Hanh died on the 22nd, in his home temple in Vietnam where he became a monk at 16. He was 95 and had had a stroke in 2014. Photos of him being greeted at the entrance to the temple, a small old man in a wheelchair who could no longer speak, were beautiful and bright. I'm sure he was tended to around the clock as a revered and beloved teacher. His nickname, Thuy, meant teacher. 

I have been crying a lot. It surprised me, the depth of my grief. And then I recall what my life looked like when I stumbled into a small dark room where people were meditating. I was so sad and vulnerable and fragile. It was 1995 and I was involved in a lawsuit a family had brought against me and my partner for a baby who was damaged. It doesn't matter the details now. We were released from the suit after two horrible years of lawyers and depositions and endless paperwork. But my/our world collapsed. Every day was full of dread and fear. Would I lose my falling-down house I had just bought? Would I ever work again? As they say in Buddhism, the eight worldly winds were blowing from every direction, knocking me down over and over. 

The small dark room held a community of people who were following the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese monk who had opposed the Vietnam war and had been expelled from his country. He was a friend to Dr King. He established centers all over the world to teach mindfulness and meditation,  to bring peace and happiness to others. His message was one of engaged Buddhism. 

In that dark room, I finally breathed fully for the first time in what felt like months. I didn't have to tell my story, I could just be. I went week after week, involving myself in the community. We eventually bought a house that we turned into a Dharma hall. Our teacher, trained by Thuy, came from her rural home to offer retreats and Dharma talks. 

I remember how silly I was, how I wince at the ways I misbehaved, not fully understanding the gift I had been given, to begin to comprehend my tangled thinking, my reactivity and the ways that I was contributing to my own suffering. 

Almost 27 years later, I can fully grieve for the little monk who worked tirelessly to bring gentleness and love to all of us, to teach us to love ourselves without reservation. 

"Even when the cloud is not there, it continues as snow or rain. It is impossible for the cloud to die. It can become rain or ice, but it cannot become nothing. The cloud cannot become nothing. The cloud does not need to have a soul in order to continue. There's no beginning and no end. I will never die. There will be a dissolution of this body, but that does not mean my death.

I will continue, always."

May all beings be at peace. May all beings be free from their suffering.

Calm - Ease | Guided Meditation by Thich Nhat Hanh Born 10/11/1926--Died 1/22/2022

Rest easy, dear Thuy.

Free write with Betsy

 The question was, "What is worth saving?"

Compassion is worth saving, for myself, for others, for the small and large lives all around. When I think of the exhortation to preserve life, not to kill, I am confronted daily with what that means. Does that mean the ants that are already appearing by the back door, making their trails to the kitchen where there are crumbs, drips of honey, errant bits of onion and broccoli from dinner. They like honey best, always looking for sugar. I am too, always seeking sweetness among the troubles of a life.

Ants have a queen somewhere. I envision her on a tiny antish throne, her loyal, inexhaustible subjects working tirelessly and selflessly to bring her the fruits of their industry. Do ants have a soul? The theological pundits would probably say not. But what do they know. The engine of an ant, the spark that animates them also animates us. I'm not sure about the soul thing? Does having a soul put us on a hierarchy of importance? To whom?I recently heard a talk about the father, son and holy ghost. The holy ghost mystifies me, always has. Then there's the triple goddess, the three faces of women, the triple jewel and so on. 

But back to the recommendation to not take life. This winter my house has hosted a plethora of tiny winged bugs. I couldn't figure out their generation. What was the point of origination? Not the compost bucket. Not a dead critter the cat brought in. (Reminds me of the dead robin under my bed but that's a story for another time.) These wee beings were on the window sills, on the bathroom mirror, by the stove. And they were fragile. I could take out a legion of them with one swipe of my sponge. 

Here's the dilemma. I am taking life, their life. They may have families, a culture (music, literature?), a purpose in the grand wed of life. And are they less important than polar bears, or orcas, or trees? Do I let them be, to live and die as we all do, as we all must?  

 This morning very early I awoke and baked a little squash, made two breakfast burritos with egg and beans and cheese and spinach, threw in some yogurts and a loaf of homemade bread and a jar of apple butter and went down to the public market and saw the monk standing with his begging bowl. I bowed to him and gave him all the food and he sang a prayer of gratitude and wonder. 

I told him when I am cooking for him,  I do it as mindfully as I can. I remember I am cooking and serving the Buddha, as the example for us all to fully awaken from our dream of life. He is the stand-in for our purest desire to be better people, to help and serve and be kind whenever we can. I told him all that. He reminded me that there are bad monks and I'm sure there are because we're all human and we are capable of terrible things. It takes courage to show up every day and be a good person, not an asshole person. I have some ways to go because of anger and sadness and disappointment but it's always good to make an effort. 

It is very early in the morning to go meet the little monk. It's almost like this secret and weird thing I am doing. It's part of my spiritual practice. 

I was very happy to see he was wearing actual shoes in the rain. He reminded me that in Asia, the monks go for alms in their bare feet. Quite impractical in the PNW, indeed. 

Much love.

 

Felix and I visited Kubota's garden yesterday, 20 acres of gorgeous Japanese landscaping that is 100 years old. 

Happy New Year everyone. 

Like ants we are happy

As long as we carry a load bigger than ourselves.

                                                              -Rumi

 We have 6? 7? inches of snow here. Yes we do. And freezing temperatures. On Friday I had a sore throat and so I went on the hunt for a covid test. Ha! You try it, the day before xmas. I went from one site to another, to no avail. I finally found a test (for $250!!) by the airport. All the other cars in the parking lot were Mercedes and Teslas. And me in the Honda. 

Now I just have a wicked cold but no covid. Kenny is positive for covid but he's holding up. We check in each morning. I went to the store yesterday bundled up to the eyes because I was out of everything and a couple was standing outside the store laden with bags. They asked if I'd lend them my phone as Uber wasn't picking up. I declined then thought what the heck and asked where they needed to go. Not far away at all. So I drove them home to their kids. They gave me a twenty which I refused but they insisted. Insisted. 

I've lost touch with reality, honestly. I'm all snotty and fuzzy-headed. I let the dog out and he tracks snow through the entire house. I'm trying to work but it seems impossible. I've canceled Teen Feed for this Friday. Too many cancellations and covid is raging and it's 23 degrees here. No one should be driving anywhere. The TF staff was very gracious. We're on again for April. Kellie already bought 3 hams and she thinks she'll just drop them off at the church. I can't even think about kids outside in this weather. It's criminal. Unconscionable. While I sit here in my warm house. 

The hummingbird feeders froze and one broke in two. I bring them in at night so they can thaw out and then hang them out again in the morning. I'm gonna spread more bird seed outside for the chickadees and juncos and crows. Heck, whoever needs some food. 

It's supposed to snow again on Thursday. By then I will be well enough to get my skis out so I can tour the neighborhood. 

I might be losing my mind a little bit. Hopefully only the parts I no longer need. 

 Charles Dickens describes Scrooge as "a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint,... secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster."

I so love this description of Scrooge as I ready myself for the umpteenth viewing of the glorious black and white version of A Christmas Carol with Alistair Sim in the lead role. His delight in finding that he's not dead (yet) is such a transcendent scene. 

Have I ever been a Scrooge? Surely I have as a human on this earth. We all have. And some of us have had the great good fortune to be able to serve and care for others. It is in giving and receiving that our hearts open and expand. 

My neighbor told me today how much money she makes. It was rather a lot and I instantly thought that money can certainly ease life. But more and more money is just...numbers as an old girlfriend used to say. 

I have a house to live in, a furnace that works, warm clothes and plenty of food. Lucky. I am lucky.

I met Ajahn Kovilo, a young monk, down at the market yesterday morning very early. He walks there during the week with his begging bowl, a big metal bowl covered with a brown cloth. I brought warm rice and veggies and chocolate to give him. He eats once a day before noon. This is part of his practice. I parked my car and walked along in the dark and cold morning. I had knitted him a hat to keep his bald head warm. (Temps here are going down below freezing). As I walked along, I saw folks under sleeping bags on the sidewalk. There were few people out. As I hit the corner of the market, the smells of cinnamon, smoked meats, coffee and spices filled the air. I waited for him to appear and down the sidewalk he came, in his cedar colored robes. He was unhurried, socks and flip flops on his feet. Seeing him there was almost like an apparition. In Asia, monks and nuns are everywhere. Here in the US, not so much. Cultures, worlds, centuries collided. 

I'll go again next week. 

Over my desk is a photo of my cousin and her young son. They are both gone, to homelessness, mental illness and suicide. My brother is next to them. He too is gone. Then there is Allison Streeter, a block of a woman who swam the English Channel to France and back THREE  times. My grandson is there, as a baby and a high school grad. 

Where am I going with all this? Not sure. 

Why are we here? To love Keith Richard, to make art, to care for our loved ones. To be kind. In spite of or because of. To be kind. To wake up, like Scrooge, on any morning, and realize we're finite and what we do, how we live, matters. 

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

 Dear Friends-

The rain is raining all around. 

It falls on fields and trees.

It's raining on umbrellas here.

And on the ships at sea.

                                Robert Lewis Stevenson

For days and days and days and filling the mountains with snow. Yesterday was sunny and we all went out dazzled by the brightness and the blue sky. Last night just off a full moon inside a wide ring. So much crazy weather and loss of life everywhere but here the gray and wet so familiar. The old Seattle with puddles and streams and rivers of water over the roadways.

As the year ends, ready for a few more busy clinic days. Before work, I will be going down to Pike Market, a busy market on the edge of Puget Sound to offer alms to a young monk I have met a few times. He travels to Seattle by ferry very early to stand in the market with his bowl and his robes. He and another monk are offering weekly Dharma talks to the community and their aspiration is to find land on which to provide a Thai forest refuge for themselves, other monastics (including women) and the lay community. I have sat with them twice. They are both Westerners who trained in Thailand and returned here to build a community in the PNW.Very exciting. 

Oh, offering alms means I will bring a lot of prepared food as he eats once a day...I remember well the daily meal we had when I was in Burma. 

After feeling purposeless for so long and with the winding down of my health care life, I am energized by the thought of starting my chaplaincy studies and engaging with this new community. The monks are so sweet. One if them graduated from college in 2012! so he's what? 30? Beyond their teaching, their earnestness has really touched me. Their desire to live the way the Buddha did but in the West is so touching and so...crazy. In the East, monks and nuns are everywhere and the community takes care of them, feeding and clothing them. In exchange, they offer the teachings freely. I guess most faiths have this component. Buddhist monastics are not able to handle money, drive, cook, etc. They rely on the community for everything. Transplant that to the West. I can only imagine a lone monk in ocher robes standing in the market with the tourists and the regulars swirling around them. 

Just had a dinner with a few friends and it was so joyful. We laughed so much we cried. As the virus may shut us away again, it was delightful to spend an evening with beloved people. 

What, you may ask, is this? Eden is in S Africa supporting a group of women who are walking a labyrinth for seven hours for seven days chanting a mantra, oh and painted red. On seven continents. It's an art/environmental/justice piece and Eden is cooking and supporting the project. And she's not my hippie child. The other one is. 

I continue to be amazed by my children.

Love to you all in the dark and rainy season. 

Dears-

I've been accepted into the chaplaincy program and I mistakenly paid for the entire first year. Oops. I fortunately had enough money in my account to cover it. In March I'll be attending the first retreat and meeting my fellow classmates. 

In the meantime, I better take in all the movies and read all the fiction books and go for all the hikes and see all the friends that I won't see for two years. 

Still.

I got a rejection letter from The Sun today. And you know what. The short story I sent them was just fine and well written. My old writing teacher would always say, "Believe in your work, love your work." She's right. 

Carry on, dear friends. Make your art. Make your beautiful art. I'll go learn how to be a chaplain. 

Ha!

 Dear friends-

Well, I've applied the the Buddhist chaplaincy program and waiting to hear if I get in...talked with my friend Rachel about one of the questions and now I have doubts about how I answered. 

This is called....*anxiety from being inside for two years*.  It is not mindfulness or calm or peace or any of those words. Jeezus. 

Another friend and I met for lunch and we went to a cathedral nearby to look at the stained glass and the Mary statues. Both were beautiful. Yes, it was a Catholic church and boy they have some pretty real estate. I reminded myself that the church ripped off pre-christian cultures and appropriated seasonal change festivals and Earth mother images to get the peasants to come along. Oh, and they burned a bunch of people, mostly women, for being witches. There's that. We won't even mention pedophile priests. 

I have been thinking about organized religion in general these days. The creation of false divisions among people has caused unimaginable suffering. Depending on what we believe, we are either friend or foe. And therefore worthy of clobbering. Listening to a news report about Northern Ireland and the new rise of Sinn Fein, I'm reminded of the conflict between the Catholics and the Protestants in that part of the world. 

Even Buddhists. All religion is populated with human beings. And we are fallible, especially the ones who claim to have inside information or direct lines to some supernatural being. So many charlatans over so many years. And we follow them, hoping for redemption or an answer to our sorrow or some kind of certainty. 

What is it about us, that we long for a belief system so we don't have to think for ourselves. We don't have to face our own aging, sickness and death. I don't mean to be morbid here, just realistic. When I met the boy in the boat on Ganges across from the burning ghats, I understood that we humans can have vastly different ideas about our own mortality. For some of us, it's the promise of heaven. For others it's reincarnation that keeps us going. Sin, unskillful actions, commandments or precepts, all are exhortations to behave, in one way or another. 

There is also the opportunity to be kind, respectful and loving. Because it is who we are. We are the worst and we're the best. Just as we can understand how others can kill and revile and do hateful things, we can also choose a different way. Eden and I were talking about the show, "Call the Midwife", running for many seasons on BBC. She asked why we love it so. We have watched it together, tears leaking from our eyes. I realized it's because the characters; the young midwives and the nuns, are kind. They are working with poor women and their babies and they get entangled in the families and the community. They show up, caring beyond their duties as medical folks. We can all think of people like them. We are people like them, maybe not all the time, but we know what it means to be kind to others, just because it is the right thing to do.

Ok, I put a coat on the dog. He was shivering on the back porch and it's time for a long walk. He feels humiliated wearing a plaid blanket on his back. Silly Felix. 

May all be warm and safe.

 I'll say it here:

If Kyle Rittenhouse were Black, he'd be doing time.

And he's still a child and he took two lives and he has to live with that. And somehow it was ok that he was carrying an AK 47 or some horrible war weapon. 

Sweet baby Jeezus.

Milo turned 19 today. He has no notions of carrying or learning to use a gun. We, his family, would NEVER allow it. Never. 

Round 3 of my "silent" retreat. It started last weekend while my daughter and grandson were here. Then the clinic needed me to do visits, then there was a birth, today there may be another birth AND there is a concrete cutter in my basement with a giant saw cutting a huge hole in the foundation in preparation for the new window. Directly under my little sitting bench. It's very loud, of course it is. 

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha etc.

That's it. I'm going swimming in the pool (85 degrees), taking the dog for his walk and coming back to meditate in the midst of all of it. 

It's all perfect. It's all a mess. 

As Maude would say (in Harold and Maude) "Ah, life."

Don't forget to eat your vegetables. 

Love you..

Some babies I have caught, one yesterday while I was supposed to be on a silent retreat (ha!)

Milo and Eden last weekend. We had so much fun. I love them to the moon and back

Me and baby Maya on 48th and 10th in Hell's Kitchen, NYC, 1973. I was 23 and Maya was a few months old. I love that girl so much all over again.

 Dear friends-

I am going to apply for a Buddhist chaplaincy program and I hope I get in. I haven't been this excited in a long while. I have had an ongoing interest in secondary trauma with the childbearing year and this will give me the opportunity to write/finish my book/thesis/whatever this is with the help and support of a program that advocates for social justice in many areas-environmental, social, racial, women's issues etc. Chaplains go into prisons and jails, work with the homeless, all the disenfranchised and wounded in our world. This particular program serves in many underserved areas as volunteers. 

No proselytizing btw. Anyway, not a thing Buddhists do. We don't go door to door. We don't picket in front of abortion clinics. We're hopefully not obnoxious. I loved school and I want to be in school again. Yes!!

Anyway, I'll let you know if I get in. It's 2 years and a whole lotta work. Oh, and money. Not too much but hey it will be there if it's the right thing to do. I know of the director. She's rad. 

I love you all. 

 Went to a birth a few nights ago. Saw them today for a check up. This momma had a c/section the first time around and a vaginal birth two mornings ago. She is so happy, so content. I swear, helping a woman heal from a surgery she didn't want is so powerful for her. C/sections are important and useful and when properly utilized, lifesaving. However, there are way too many in our modern world and women often feel ripped off and traumatized. Until the day I die (and maybe beyond!), this midwifery work has been about honoring and respecting women and their bodies and their knowing. A woman who feels ok about her birth, however it went, is a woman who hopefully felt listened to by all who went on the journey of birth with her. And that means medical folks, family members, her partner and the family dog. When women are discounted and disrespected when laboring and birthing, the hurt and pain go deep. 

This mother felt triumphant. She got to feel everything. She got to push her baby out. And for her, that was important. Her first baby was breech so she never even had contractions. Boy howdy, she felt contractions this time. The walls of her room were covered with affirmations of love and support. 

This baby was a whopper, by the way. Almost 2 pounds bigger than her first child. 

In other news, Clark and I went swimming this morning and we froze our tootsies off. Rain, wind and water 54 degrees. We stayed near the shore and called it pretty soon after we got in. Took me more time to get my booties, gloves, cap and wetsuit off that I spent in the water. I'm still shivering. Then the sun comes out, then it starts pouring again. 

I guess I should turn on the heat, huh.

Made a yogurt, egg, almond flour cake that was so boring, I almost threw it away. It sounded good but yuck. It needs more sweetener and lemon juice and zest. I'll try again. 

I have to make granola for my beloved Milo who will be here next Thursday. And homemade bread. What do teenage boys like to eat besides junk? I think they eat about everything. I started a quilt for Eden and I will be working on it right in front of her. She won't know it's for her. There is a knitting project I started last winter that so intimidated me I put it on the shelf. Might be time to get it out and cry a little. 

Ok, I'm getting into the hot tub. It's not raining at the moment. In the winter working on quilts is a wise move cuz you're sitting under them. Pretty cozy. 

Got my booster yesterday. Yuck. I feel terrible (and lucky, of course). Tired, headache, sore arm, all signs my immune system is firing up. 

Should I tell the story of a new chiropractor I went to (twice)? I'm sure he's a Trump guy. He went on and on about his knowledge of pregnancy and his wife and their births and no, none of their kids are vaccinated for anything. He did wear a mask for my visit. The second time I saw him a few days later, he mentioned the 'mess' Biden is leaving the country in. I responded 'mmm' but mostly kept quiet. Oh, and he played barbershop quartet music including a rendition of our national anthem. 

And his treatment was really good. He took a thorough history, his adjustments were spot on and so, well, shit.  Oh yeah, he takes medicare. I made my way through a long list of providers on the official Kaiser page and all of them, except him, refused me. I mean, Medicare is a government program, right? Cognitive dissonance is a thing, isn't it?

Anyway, I have to find someone else. 

Sheesh. 

The hole in the yard I mentioned earlier. We ran into a large concrete pipe. Of course we did. Now I'm entertaining plumbers who will route it further from the foundation for $$ or $$$ or $$$$. I'm waiting for another company to show up right now. I also got a bid for replacing the crummy shower in the MIL-the most basic, lowest price and that came in a $6000. 

Whaaaaaaa.

I could forget the whole thing...but I can't. Not ethical. I need to make the unit safer and more functional. 

It's only money. As an old girlfriend used to say, 'it's only numbers.' 

Friday is Teen Feed-this month weird menu; mac and cheese, corn muffins, hot dogs with all the stuff, tacos and James cookies. Milk. Apples. Raw carrots. Baked potatoes. Whatever we can do. 

John Prine - Boundless Love - The Tree of Forgiveness

 Dear friends-

Milo and his auntie Eden are coming here to look at schools from the 11th to the 15th. To say I am excited would be an understatement. 

Fully dark here. Wild and stormy. 

Thinking about the last few years of my mother's life. She was 'no trouble', according to the nursing home staff. She smiled a lot. She said 'thank you' a lot. She was undemanding. Dignified, as she had hoped. Tonight, my thoughts of her are soft. And that is an improvement. 

There is a large hole in my front yard. There were hordes of ants under the hot cover. My beloved grandson is coming here, all tall and skinny of him. And Eden!! How did I get to be so lucky. 

Camila Cabello - Havana (Official Video) ft. Young Thug

 My sister married her 75 year old Steve yesterday. We were all virtual and I missed the whole thing. Funky wifi, couldn't access my password, you know, the usual. So this morning I called her and we told stories and laughed and laughed. Stories about getting lost, making mistakes, going in the wrong direction. Her wedding story, so beautiful and too much food and sweet wedding bands and her 6'4" husband who has to lean way over to kiss her. She comes up to his chest. 

I cried too. For all that we have lost, collectively. All the weddings and funerals and birthdays and graduations and new babies. All the events that make a life. When we are together again a common refrain. I've never even met Steve although he has made my troublesome wonderful sister so happy. So happy. 

Right now, the dog and cat are just not enough. Annie has a video on her FB feed of a woman in France in a town square standing with a blindfold and arms outstretched to give hugs to random strangers who pass by. So many people approach and they hug. Left me a puddle. 

It is Indigenous People's Day or whatever. One day, huh? Wow. 

If the pool is open, I'll swim there. If not, will I go to the lake? It's mighty cold and I don't like to swim alone. 

My tenant is gone and Jim just dropped off a new window for the basement apartment. Yes, friends, a wee remodel. You know I love those. But the basement with have light! and a window the tenant can crawl out of if the unimaginable happens. It will be splendid. In the meantime, dig a giant hole! Obliterate the interior wall! Don't run into the gas main! Cut a square in the foundation with a concrete cutter! Mess! Dust! Noise! Yeah!

Can't wait. 

Now to roll down the hill to see if the pool is actually open. 

May you all be well and safe and hugging the ones you love. Be kind, always be kind. 

 It is beautiful today, clear, crisp, red and yellow leaves. Clark and I swam this morning toward a rippling shining path made by the sun on the water. I have acclimated to the cold with my wetsuit. I wonder how much longer I will swim this year. Clark told me he swam until 12/21 last year. Brrrrrrrr! 

I have also figured out how to don my wetsuit without help. It is a sight, I'm sure. It would help if I were double-jointed. 

Dear people. I danced in a room with others for the first time in forever last Wednesday. It was heavenly and boyoboy was I creaky and sore. I hadn't realized how much stretching is, um, vital to the body. Our teacher gave each of us a bag of epsom salts at the end of class. Most appropriate. 

My tenant is indeed moving out. I want to enlarge a window down in the apartment and my contractor/friend Jim says that windows are back ordered 3-4 months, like everything. And apparently the price of wood is astronomical. Well, we've burned up millions of trees. Nervous about no rent money for several months. And $$ for the window install, including concrete cutting. That aughta be fun, not to mention the mess. 

We're hit the grim milestone of 700,000 dead of covid in the US. Amazing for a virus that was "just gonna disappear, like magic."

In other news, please watch "High on the Hog" on Netflix. It's wonderful. 

I've taken to carrying my laptop around with me, like a baby. As choices have gotten skimpier and skimpier, I still need to have voices. I mean, really. How many times can I watch Outlander? 

I've started a quilt for Eden. She does not want a 'traditional' quilt. Sheesh. I gave her a Jacob's Ladder when she left home. Blue and White. So this time I'm making something up. At the moment I don't like it at all. We'll see how it goes. Quilting is very much like painting, many colors and shapes and fretting and walking around etc. And they take a while. I have no use for machine quilting. I'm down with doing it the old fashioned way. Besides, sitting under a quilt all winter sewing little stitches is one way to stay warm. 

Today there's a rally for reproductive rights downtown. I have a new baby to visit, ironically. Feels like all the progress we've made is being undone. 

Time for me to get into horrid traffic to see the new family. In the midst of all the troubles, new babies are so delicious.