About to make potato latkes with homemade apple sauce for Maya's birthday breakfast. Happy birthday Maya my love.
Your mom.
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
At night her halo lights up
In Calistoga at a spa for Maya's birthday. Gigantic swimming pool that's 95 degrees. Not really swimmable because you get in it and you just want to fall asleep. Had a volcanic mud bath yesterday and a massage. The California experience. California is a different planet than the rest of the US. People here are thinner and more fashionable and more organic than most of the world. Oh and more spiritually inclined in a fruity, hippy, ungrounded kind of way.
Perhaps I'm being unkind.
On the eve of Maya's actual birthday. Her birth was hard and painful and long. And I did it. I grew into being her mother even though I was young and arrogant and impossibly naive. And she became a beautiful, graceful and honest human being. She's a loving mother and my friend.
Today we're waking up to a cool morning, thinking about the ridiculous pool and the town of Calistoga for breakfast.
A friend just called from the East where she sits with her aged mother who is failing. They just got word that her sister has stage 4 breast cancer. Sorrow comes in and stirs and stirs.
As Maude says: "Ah, the great circle of life".
Perhaps I'm being unkind.
On the eve of Maya's actual birthday. Her birth was hard and painful and long. And I did it. I grew into being her mother even though I was young and arrogant and impossibly naive. And she became a beautiful, graceful and honest human being. She's a loving mother and my friend.
Today we're waking up to a cool morning, thinking about the ridiculous pool and the town of Calistoga for breakfast.
A friend just called from the East where she sits with her aged mother who is failing. They just got word that her sister has stage 4 breast cancer. Sorrow comes in and stirs and stirs.
As Maude says: "Ah, the great circle of life".
Saturday, December 20, 2014
I got a letter from ~~~~Animal Control~~~~~~that my white curly headed dog has been running free or otherwise disturbing the property of others. And I better beware because they will come get him or I'll pay fines or worse (waterboarding?)
Geez, and I was telling some newly introduced neighbor folks how safe I feel in my new hood. Who is watching me and ratting me out??? I run the Felix down the center of the street to the dead end and back. Yes, he strays onto a few parking strips. I always clean up after him. He's harmless. Goofy, barky but friendly.
Who is it? I'll never know.
Ok, I'll be taking him to the park more often for his runs. He's not a leash kind of dog. Come to think of it, neither am I.
Obey the rules or else.
If dogs ran free, why can't we?
To California on Monday and Felix to dog camp where he can't get into trouble.
Geez, and I was telling some newly introduced neighbor folks how safe I feel in my new hood. Who is watching me and ratting me out??? I run the Felix down the center of the street to the dead end and back. Yes, he strays onto a few parking strips. I always clean up after him. He's harmless. Goofy, barky but friendly.
Who is it? I'll never know.
Ok, I'll be taking him to the park more often for his runs. He's not a leash kind of dog. Come to think of it, neither am I.
Obey the rules or else.
If dogs ran free, why can't we?
To California on Monday and Felix to dog camp where he can't get into trouble.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
It's time to build a one match fire and huddle.
I applied for MEDICARE today.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
My right knee is 'catching' and 'popping'. Perhaps my squats at the gym are too enthusiastic.
The lady above was nursing a baby in church. It was Italy so you know to expect such things.
My house is freezing.
I applied for MEDICARE today.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
My right knee is 'catching' and 'popping'. Perhaps my squats at the gym are too enthusiastic.
The lady above was nursing a baby in church. It was Italy so you know to expect such things.
My house is freezing.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
I'm going tomorrow to my healthcare place for a lecture/discussion of MEDICARE as I turn 65 in a few months. Lordy. They have sent me vast reams of paper with dense writing to help me consider all my choices. Ah, well, um. I haven't a clue without some guidance what to choose.
Then there's the annual letter from social security reminding me that at retirement age (66? 67? 103?) I will get X amount of $$ and please don't think I can live on this amount. Fool.
Meanwhile, the remodel lumbers along. I have windows and a roof and they've strung up light bulbs for a truly ghetto look. Still I huddle in front of the fire every night with movies from the library and my dear NYT.
Next Monday I leave for California to visit the kinder and then off to a meditation retreat. Back after January first. The pregnant ladies are flying through the door so next year is looking pretty healthy.
Dina was as marvelous as ever. I'll leave you with this song from Seattle's premier chanteuse.
Then there's the annual letter from social security reminding me that at retirement age (66? 67? 103?) I will get X amount of $$ and please don't think I can live on this amount. Fool.
Meanwhile, the remodel lumbers along. I have windows and a roof and they've strung up light bulbs for a truly ghetto look. Still I huddle in front of the fire every night with movies from the library and my dear NYT.
Next Monday I leave for California to visit the kinder and then off to a meditation retreat. Back after January first. The pregnant ladies are flying through the door so next year is looking pretty healthy.
Dina was as marvelous as ever. I'll leave you with this song from Seattle's premier chanteuse.
Friday, December 12, 2014
Monday, December 08, 2014
Sunday, December 07, 2014
It's 4:30 and I'm already in my jammies, about to build a fire in the fireplace. I danced my ass off this morning and took the white dog for a long walk/run/ball chase. Now it's time to knit some more rows for a snood...bet you don't know what a snood is. It's a scarf-y thing you wear on your head/neck and it is impossibly easy to make. The socks take more time.
Tis the dark season. Friends and I went to Playback Theatre last night and revealed ourselves to the improv actors. They danced/spoke/yelled etc. our stories. It alternated between being terrifying and funny, depending on their focus. There were a few children there and I wanted to throttle them. I'm not usually opposed to children per se, I do deliver them fairly often but last night they were obnoxious and hogging all the attention. Their parents tried reining them in, in vain. The actors were gracious about it but jeez. Sometimes I do appreciate me some child-free space.
I have perfected the art of the one match fire. I am also getting good at splitting wood for kindling. I love building a fire, almost as much as I love watching it and feeding it throughout the evening. Fires need tending. Sara and her guy brought me a bunch of apple wood, burns much more slowly than the pine from the remodel.
Speaking of the remodel. I now have a new roof and four new skylights. Hot damn.
Another week begins. Babies growing, babies being born, all in the great cycle of life.
Tis the dark season. Friends and I went to Playback Theatre last night and revealed ourselves to the improv actors. They danced/spoke/yelled etc. our stories. It alternated between being terrifying and funny, depending on their focus. There were a few children there and I wanted to throttle them. I'm not usually opposed to children per se, I do deliver them fairly often but last night they were obnoxious and hogging all the attention. Their parents tried reining them in, in vain. The actors were gracious about it but jeez. Sometimes I do appreciate me some child-free space.
I have perfected the art of the one match fire. I am also getting good at splitting wood for kindling. I love building a fire, almost as much as I love watching it and feeding it throughout the evening. Fires need tending. Sara and her guy brought me a bunch of apple wood, burns much more slowly than the pine from the remodel.
Speaking of the remodel. I now have a new roof and four new skylights. Hot damn.
Another week begins. Babies growing, babies being born, all in the great cycle of life.
Tuesday, December 02, 2014
Waiting for the corn bread to be done and some weird-ass soup I made with random elderly vegetables and a can of black beans. As we roll around here.
A wee babe this morning around 5 AM. The mom called in the deepest part of the night and the deepest part of sleep. The kind of sleep you crawl out of, the sleep cave where your clan is snugged up next to you and all are warm and safe.
Duty calls so you climb out into the freezing bedroom and the even colder closet to find you birthin' clothes (the ones you can get goop on and it doesn't matter), those delicious wool socks, all your gear, phone, car keys etc to sit in the freezing car with the defroster going full blast while you scrape off the ice so you can see to drive across town.
Quiet highway, perfect time to be riding to a birth; no traffic, no cops, no drunks bumping the yellow line.
The babe comes quickly. Dad is so beautiful holding his girl to his chest. Sometimes we look away because it is too tender.
We go make some tea, clean up, get the mom to the shower so we can strip her bed and give her clean sheets, give our postpartum instructions and head out.
I take my crew to breakfast. It's the least I can do. We've eaten in some interesting places-the all nighters where the hookers and gangsters and late night hipsters go for a steak at 3 AM.
At home I find the electrician and the guys. There's still snow on the roof and ice everywhere so no roofers today. The electrician has recently married her girlfriend. I congratulate her and she tells me she knows someone I might like to date. Oy.
Ok, but I'm pretty good by myself up here on the hill, looking over the mountains and the lake, as long as I have a friend to call who can help me move the dresser or have a meal with me or hike the Cascades on the weekends.
And anyone I ever date who wants to hang around? The moms and babies come first. They always have. They always will. That's the deal with midwifery. That kind of service is hard for some to handle. And that's ok. I used to be puzzled by my lovers who got cranky with me as I ran off into the night. Now it's ok. It really is.
We midwives have a special job. And it's impossible to explain why we do it. It's what our hearts lead us to do. It heals us and maybe it heals the world.
A wee babe this morning around 5 AM. The mom called in the deepest part of the night and the deepest part of sleep. The kind of sleep you crawl out of, the sleep cave where your clan is snugged up next to you and all are warm and safe.
Duty calls so you climb out into the freezing bedroom and the even colder closet to find you birthin' clothes (the ones you can get goop on and it doesn't matter), those delicious wool socks, all your gear, phone, car keys etc to sit in the freezing car with the defroster going full blast while you scrape off the ice so you can see to drive across town.
Quiet highway, perfect time to be riding to a birth; no traffic, no cops, no drunks bumping the yellow line.
The babe comes quickly. Dad is so beautiful holding his girl to his chest. Sometimes we look away because it is too tender.
We go make some tea, clean up, get the mom to the shower so we can strip her bed and give her clean sheets, give our postpartum instructions and head out.
I take my crew to breakfast. It's the least I can do. We've eaten in some interesting places-the all nighters where the hookers and gangsters and late night hipsters go for a steak at 3 AM.
At home I find the electrician and the guys. There's still snow on the roof and ice everywhere so no roofers today. The electrician has recently married her girlfriend. I congratulate her and she tells me she knows someone I might like to date. Oy.
Ok, but I'm pretty good by myself up here on the hill, looking over the mountains and the lake, as long as I have a friend to call who can help me move the dresser or have a meal with me or hike the Cascades on the weekends.
And anyone I ever date who wants to hang around? The moms and babies come first. They always have. They always will. That's the deal with midwifery. That kind of service is hard for some to handle. And that's ok. I used to be puzzled by my lovers who got cranky with me as I ran off into the night. Now it's ok. It really is.
We midwives have a special job. And it's impossible to explain why we do it. It's what our hearts lead us to do. It heals us and maybe it heals the world.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Jim the contractor is in the basement with a shop vac vacuuming out a small ocean of water. A pipe burst {{{{sometime}}}} today and when I got home from lunch/dance/etc there was the distinct sound of water, lots of water coming from the remodel.
The partly dismantled back bathroom was spewing water all over the floors and flooding into the basement.
Awesome.
Now the water is off so I brought in all my water bottles so I can brush my teeth.
He just came in and told me he's coming back with tools to cap the broken pipes so I can have water back on tonight.
I asked him if he'd consider being my ongoing maintenance man once the job is done and he said he would.
This is certainly working out better than having a partner.
The partly dismantled back bathroom was spewing water all over the floors and flooding into the basement.
Awesome.
Now the water is off so I brought in all my water bottles so I can brush my teeth.
He just came in and told me he's coming back with tools to cap the broken pipes so I can have water back on tonight.
I asked him if he'd consider being my ongoing maintenance man once the job is done and he said he would.
This is certainly working out better than having a partner.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Today is the seventh anniversary of my youngest brother's suicide. Today the roofers are here with their compressor and hammering. The wind last night was so fierce, I thought the tarps I've been living under would shred and fly away. Two days ago the ruling came down from Ferguson and that night there was gunfire in my neighborhood all night. This morning I went to my community gym where a cross section of ethnicities come together to exercise. This morning the seniors were doing their calisthenics while four of us grunted and sweated through our workouts.
My neighborhood is primarily Asian. My block is white and black and Filipino and Chinese. Just down the hill from my house the grocery store suffered a few broken windows. Frustration. Fear. Anger. The justice system doesn't treat us equally, does it? Of course we know this.
What to do?
Am I part of the problem or part of the solution? I sold my house last summer and moved here because my old neighborhood had become too monochromatic. Too wealthy. Too smug. I feel more comfortable in this little house among cultures and colors than I did there. And I know more of my neighbors than I did after thirteen years in my old neighborhood.
I know the man two doors down is living with AIDS. I know that Cliff is a retired vet and he DJs on the weekends. And he has a collection of beautiful vintage cars. I know the Filipino man who I bought this house from has a wife and twin daughters and his father lives in the house next to mine. I've met the retired nurse who planted an English garden that she could tend in her retirement but her back is too bad to work outside at all. I've met the man who loves his pit bull. The elderly Muslim family has welcomed me to the neighborhood. I attended the wedding of the couple on the other side of my house. She sold me a gas stove she had in her basement. I gave her the water fountain from my back yard. All in four months.
The Sun this month is focussing on caring. What it means to care.
"The friend who cares makes it clear that whatever happens in the external world, being present to each other is what really matters. In fact, it matters more than pain, illness, or even death."
-Henri J.M. Nouwen, Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life
What I've noticed is the courage it takes to be awake to 'the cries of the world'. I think of Rebecca offering coats and food to the hookers near her home. Or Mary's tender care of her Florida patch and the family and friends she cherishes. My sister midwives who go the extra mile for a woman or her family in need. There is no price tag for that kind of compassion. Indeed, it is priceless.
To care for this broken world takes great courage. And the willingness to be heart broken daily. And to stay with it instead of withdrawing.
As for my brother. Geoffrey, my darling. Please forgive me for being flawed. Forgive me for my anger and judgement. Your wicked ways came from your own unendurable pain. Forgive me, dear baby brother.
Thinking of you, Dirk and Annie, on this bad ole day.
May you be safe from inner and outer harm. May you be happy just as you are. May you be well. May you be free. May you be free.
May we all be free.
My neighborhood is primarily Asian. My block is white and black and Filipino and Chinese. Just down the hill from my house the grocery store suffered a few broken windows. Frustration. Fear. Anger. The justice system doesn't treat us equally, does it? Of course we know this.
What to do?
Am I part of the problem or part of the solution? I sold my house last summer and moved here because my old neighborhood had become too monochromatic. Too wealthy. Too smug. I feel more comfortable in this little house among cultures and colors than I did there. And I know more of my neighbors than I did after thirteen years in my old neighborhood.
I know the man two doors down is living with AIDS. I know that Cliff is a retired vet and he DJs on the weekends. And he has a collection of beautiful vintage cars. I know the Filipino man who I bought this house from has a wife and twin daughters and his father lives in the house next to mine. I've met the retired nurse who planted an English garden that she could tend in her retirement but her back is too bad to work outside at all. I've met the man who loves his pit bull. The elderly Muslim family has welcomed me to the neighborhood. I attended the wedding of the couple on the other side of my house. She sold me a gas stove she had in her basement. I gave her the water fountain from my back yard. All in four months.
The Sun this month is focussing on caring. What it means to care.
"The friend who cares makes it clear that whatever happens in the external world, being present to each other is what really matters. In fact, it matters more than pain, illness, or even death."
-Henri J.M. Nouwen, Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life
What I've noticed is the courage it takes to be awake to 'the cries of the world'. I think of Rebecca offering coats and food to the hookers near her home. Or Mary's tender care of her Florida patch and the family and friends she cherishes. My sister midwives who go the extra mile for a woman or her family in need. There is no price tag for that kind of compassion. Indeed, it is priceless.
To care for this broken world takes great courage. And the willingness to be heart broken daily. And to stay with it instead of withdrawing.
As for my brother. Geoffrey, my darling. Please forgive me for being flawed. Forgive me for my anger and judgement. Your wicked ways came from your own unendurable pain. Forgive me, dear baby brother.
Thinking of you, Dirk and Annie, on this bad ole day.
May you be safe from inner and outer harm. May you be happy just as you are. May you be well. May you be free. May you be free.
May we all be free.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
I am making coconut maple syrup cinnamon granola and my house smells DIVINE. This is what heaven smells like and I don't even believe in heaven.
A former client died last weekend. We delivered her two girls in 2007 and 2009. She was beautiful and sweet and kick-ass. She got sick, went into a coma and never woke up.
The memorial is the 29th and I'm going with a few folks from the clinic who knew her.
Ms Moon is rescuing kittens under her porch. Whatever we can do, we must do.
A former client died last weekend. We delivered her two girls in 2007 and 2009. She was beautiful and sweet and kick-ass. She got sick, went into a coma and never woke up.
The memorial is the 29th and I'm going with a few folks from the clinic who knew her.
Ms Moon is rescuing kittens under her porch. Whatever we can do, we must do.
Reprieve
"We'll learn that
much of what goes on in our minds is not our fault and certainly not
our
design."
Paul Gilbert, Ph.D The Compassionate Mind
you can learn to be compassionate
just not all at once
you may want to
be compassionate
but what you really
want is a small cabin by a river
there are books to
read about compassion
I'm reading one now
the dog is eating
pieces of onion
stupid dog!
the brain has many
departments
the department of
eating
the department of
fucking
the department of
slaughtering your neighbors
you can study this
in compassion school
people sit quietly
in rows
they sniffle and
fidget
they ponder their
synapses
you feel your brain
heat up
cells jumping with
ecstasy
around you people
topple over with a bang
stupid people!
science has won
again
you're better than
the animals
it's obvious
you can bring home
the bacon!
Friday, November 21, 2014
I'm listening to Dave Egger's book, "What is the What?" on tape. Engrossing and horrifying tale of the war in the Sudan told from the perspective of a 'lost boy'. Sometimes I sit in the car outside my house so I can finish a chapter. Sometimes I sit in the car in silence. Human cruelty, greed, brutality on one side. Kindness, generosity and compassion on the other.
We're made of all of it.
The anniversary of my brother's death approaches.
We're made of all of it.
The anniversary of my brother's death approaches.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
My dears-at a birth now on Milo's birthday! The young man is 12 today. This baby coming is a girl and her momma is outside walking and making a great racket for the neighbors to hear. With her mom and an doula in attendance.
Milo and his momma a few years ago on the beach.
Our mom is yelling. Better bring her back inside.
Milo and his momma a few years ago on the beach.
Our mom is yelling. Better bring her back inside.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Today I remember Thich Nhat Hanh. beautiful teacher. He is recovering from a stroke. May he be well. May he be at peace. May he be free.
“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything - anger, anxiety, or possessions - we cannot be free.”
― ThÃch Nhất Hạnh, The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation
“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything - anger, anxiety, or possessions - we cannot be free.”
― ThÃch Nhất Hạnh, The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Friday, November 14, 2014
BTW, the photo is a swimming pool in some swanky mansion. I'd swim there. I would. Watch me. Especially if they have a hot tub and you KNOW they do. I praise all the god and goddess forms for my local swimming pool RIGHT DOWN THE HILLL I CAN WALK THERE for their heated building, heated pool and hot tub and sauna. Oh yes I do. Enough of capitol letters.
Last night the compressor kept going on. I finally called Jim and he told me to go unplug it in the basement. Ah-ha! I could have figured that out if it hadn't been 10 at night. I thought perhaps someone was trying to steal it. Why I thought that I have no idea. It would be too hard to steal anything around here.
Now the men are out there completing the roofline. They'll be putting up plywood and then the roofer people will come over and give me a new roof. This is very exciting. No more tarps to flap in the wind. No more crashing rain sounds. I don't think the warmth factor will be improved, however. I've had the furnace on ever since the blanket wall went up so I'm warm-ish. Polar fleece and giant slippers were designed for this weather.
I've looked at my money situation (hahahahahahahahaha) for signs that I will have enough cash for the completion of this project. I never feel safe. And there are good reasons for that. Being homeless for a while is one reason. Being alone is another. Then there is cosmic insecurity which I suffer from. Global anxiety. Meditation helps some.
The guy selling the Real Change outside the co-op chatted with me a while. I asked if he had a warm place to sleep and he said he did. And he has katz. Mine make pockets of warmth around my knees. Lola likes to swat me in the face in the morning. Just for fun.
The sky today is the clearest blue.
Last night the compressor kept going on. I finally called Jim and he told me to go unplug it in the basement. Ah-ha! I could have figured that out if it hadn't been 10 at night. I thought perhaps someone was trying to steal it. Why I thought that I have no idea. It would be too hard to steal anything around here.
Now the men are out there completing the roofline. They'll be putting up plywood and then the roofer people will come over and give me a new roof. This is very exciting. No more tarps to flap in the wind. No more crashing rain sounds. I don't think the warmth factor will be improved, however. I've had the furnace on ever since the blanket wall went up so I'm warm-ish. Polar fleece and giant slippers were designed for this weather.
I've looked at my money situation (hahahahahahahahaha) for signs that I will have enough cash for the completion of this project. I never feel safe. And there are good reasons for that. Being homeless for a while is one reason. Being alone is another. Then there is cosmic insecurity which I suffer from. Global anxiety. Meditation helps some.
The guy selling the Real Change outside the co-op chatted with me a while. I asked if he had a warm place to sleep and he said he did. And he has katz. Mine make pockets of warmth around my knees. Lola likes to swat me in the face in the morning. Just for fun.
The sky today is the clearest blue.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Saturday, November 08, 2014
I will not speak of the hike Holly and I attempted yesterday. Suffice it to say that when others post that the road leading to the trailhead is dreadful, believe them. It was dangerous with rocks and gullies and only fit for 4 wheel drives with high axels. My wee Fit was no match. And it was 6 miles straight up. Holly said her palms were sweating. I turned around.
The day was gorgeous so we sort-of salvaged ourselves with a pretty hike near a roaring creek while the dog tore around chasing imaginary squirrels. We were way out near Rainier Mt and there was no traffic and no other hikers.
Today all this happened:
I am the master of all I survey. And there is the beginning of a roof!!! This is truly exciting. I brought the men cookies. I might be using the loft for sleeping eventually. As long as I can get up there...
I looked at plane fares for the UK, about $4500. Whew. I have been saving. We'll just have to sleep along the road. In sleeping bags.
Tonight my neighbor came over to ask if I liked cinnamon rolls. Who doesn't like cinnamon rolls? Even though I've been exercising like a fiend and actually counting my calories. The roll even had icing on it. It was delicious. The thing about dieting-you can always start again tomorrow.
And getting up in the early morning to go swimming is heavenly; quiet and peaceful.
Fall is well and truly here.
The day was gorgeous so we sort-of salvaged ourselves with a pretty hike near a roaring creek while the dog tore around chasing imaginary squirrels. We were way out near Rainier Mt and there was no traffic and no other hikers.
Today all this happened:
I am the master of all I survey. And there is the beginning of a roof!!! This is truly exciting. I brought the men cookies. I might be using the loft for sleeping eventually. As long as I can get up there...
I looked at plane fares for the UK, about $4500. Whew. I have been saving. We'll just have to sleep along the road. In sleeping bags.
Tonight my neighbor came over to ask if I liked cinnamon rolls. Who doesn't like cinnamon rolls? Even though I've been exercising like a fiend and actually counting my calories. The roll even had icing on it. It was delicious. The thing about dieting-you can always start again tomorrow.
And getting up in the early morning to go swimming is heavenly; quiet and peaceful.
Fall is well and truly here.
Tuesday, November 04, 2014
The whole truth
I'm going to reveal the whole truth of my current life. I figure it's time. Don't know why. Perhaps it's the dark and the rain. BTW, I just heard the term 'dark money'. Might be a poem.
1. I live in squalor. I used to pride myself on a clean house with order and minimal fur. No longer. If I sweep once a week, it's only because there is too much shite on the floor and it's starting to look like mushrooms could grow in the living room. The dust in my house is admirable.
2. I washed the kitchen floor last week. It was FILTHY.
3. I wash clothes only because I have limited underwear and I refuse to wear the flowered ones from the cheapy store.
4. My 73 pairs of shoes (don't ask) are scattered here and there and I fall into despair if I can't find the right ones on any given day.
5. I no longer cook, an activity I used to enjoy. Refer to #1. Besides there is no counter space in my kitchen. I am eating yogurt and making green smoothies because no cooking is involved.
6. I don't bathe regularly. If you can smell a rather unwashed person, it's probably me. The partial bathroom is gross and black debris is falling into the tub all the time.
7. I don't get under the covers on my bed. I sleep on top and cover myself with my comforter. And I wear the same shirt for three days, including to sleep in. I just take off my bra. If the shirt looks ok the next day, ta-da, I wear it again.
8. I wear my hair in a ponytail because it's easy. I know I'm beginning to look like 'that sort of older person' but I don't even care.
9. I sleep on the couch until I'm too uncomfortable and go get under the comforter on the bed. I just brush all the cat detritus off the bedspread and lie down.
10. I voted in this election but I don't really care about the electoral process right now. Democracy is a figment of our collective imagination. It's all about the money. Lots and lots of money. We're living in an oligarchy. And that's a big problem I can't fix.
11. My house is perpetually cold so coming home is rather grim. The fireplace throws out enough heat to warm my socks.
12. I'm becoming feral.
13. Pretty soon, I'll be barking at the mailman and hoarding random trinkets and bits of junk. Then the hoarder program on cable will be coming for ME.
The End
PS. My contractor brought me a hatchet today to make kindling. My neighbors better not get on my bad side. I mean it.
1. I live in squalor. I used to pride myself on a clean house with order and minimal fur. No longer. If I sweep once a week, it's only because there is too much shite on the floor and it's starting to look like mushrooms could grow in the living room. The dust in my house is admirable.
2. I washed the kitchen floor last week. It was FILTHY.
3. I wash clothes only because I have limited underwear and I refuse to wear the flowered ones from the cheapy store.
4. My 73 pairs of shoes (don't ask) are scattered here and there and I fall into despair if I can't find the right ones on any given day.
5. I no longer cook, an activity I used to enjoy. Refer to #1. Besides there is no counter space in my kitchen. I am eating yogurt and making green smoothies because no cooking is involved.
6. I don't bathe regularly. If you can smell a rather unwashed person, it's probably me. The partial bathroom is gross and black debris is falling into the tub all the time.
7. I don't get under the covers on my bed. I sleep on top and cover myself with my comforter. And I wear the same shirt for three days, including to sleep in. I just take off my bra. If the shirt looks ok the next day, ta-da, I wear it again.
8. I wear my hair in a ponytail because it's easy. I know I'm beginning to look like 'that sort of older person' but I don't even care.
9. I sleep on the couch until I'm too uncomfortable and go get under the comforter on the bed. I just brush all the cat detritus off the bedspread and lie down.
10. I voted in this election but I don't really care about the electoral process right now. Democracy is a figment of our collective imagination. It's all about the money. Lots and lots of money. We're living in an oligarchy. And that's a big problem I can't fix.
11. My house is perpetually cold so coming home is rather grim. The fireplace throws out enough heat to warm my socks.
12. I'm becoming feral.
13. Pretty soon, I'll be barking at the mailman and hoarding random trinkets and bits of junk. Then the hoarder program on cable will be coming for ME.
The End
PS. My contractor brought me a hatchet today to make kindling. My neighbors better not get on my bad side. I mean it.
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