Welp. I'm going to a cabin in the woods on Camano Island tomorrow with the dog and some books and food and a sleeping bag. We'll spend time on the beach and on the trails and sitting on the deck listening to the silence. 

I found this place last minute on Hipcamp, which if you don't know, is a site for camping, glamping, etc on land owned by ordinary folks who have some acres and maybe a view of the water. There are cabins, tree houses, river banks, woods and open fields. It's a way for rural folks to make a bit of clink and a way for us city folk to share in their lives. 

My cabin owners have chickens (Mary!), goats and a horse. Felix is welcome to accompany me. Camano Island is about 1 1/2 hours from here, pretty, sweet and away from the noise and energy of Seattle. Plus Rebecca lives there somewhere. 

I'm ready to leave today. I loaded up with books (natch), notebooks, pens, a bit of music until my phone dies (no electricity in the cabin), some food, boots and random clothes. 

I already feel relaxed. I'm NOT driving to Oregon to sit in a bone dry forest with fires lurking all around. 

In other news, I'm reading about pruning things. The garden is out of control. The daphne and salvia and lavender and what's this called? are all monstrously monstrous giant round bushes. I must harden my heart and whack away. to give the smaller, more polite plants a chance. 

I can get a booster shot on September 20th. Or so I'm told.  

"Charlie Watts" R.I.P. The Rolling Stones The Last Time

 Well dears. No trip to the Boundary Waters of Minnesota. The park rescinded all permits and closed all the entrances because of fire and smoke. Judith went anyway to see her family. At first the plan was for the locals to look for a campground. When that failed, they went for an Airbnb. So I said nah. Not flying half way across the country to stay in an airbnb with Judith's family who are, I'm sure, lovely people. I was looking for an outdoor adventure. Maybe next year...

Maya is going back to Cave Junction in Oregon at the end of the week and I think I might go there. I do remember the terror of last year, driving home through two horrendous fires on I-5. Right now it looks ok. I'll decide last minute and either stay or go. Our new normal. Fires? Air quality? Covid rampaging? 

Jeezus. 

Meanwhile I'm watching an old Eddie Izzard comedy special. He's totally in drag and making fun of Americans for not knowing any history. We do deserve it. Comedy helps with everything. That and swimming at 8 in the morning with my beloved Clark. I'm starting to think about my wetsuit again as the water gets colder and colder. But what freedom being way out in the water, rocking in the waves. 

Tomorrow Holly and I hike to Annette Lake. Beautiful. 

 

Children Listen

By Roger Reeves

It turns out however that I was deeply
Mistaken about the end of the world
The body in flames will not be the body
In flames but just a house fire ignored
The black sails of that solitary burning
Boat rubbing along the legs of lovers
Flung into a Roman sky by a carousel
The lovers too sick in their love
To notice a man drenched in fire on a porch
Or a child aflame mistaken for a dog
Mistaken for a child running to tell of a bomb
That did not knock before it entered
In Gaza with its glad tidings of abundant joy
In Kazimierz a god is weeping
In a window one golden hand raised
Above his head as if he’s slipped
On the slick rag of the future our human
Kindnesses unremarkable as the flies
Rubbing their legs together while standing
On a slice of cantaloupe Children
You were never meant to be human
You must be the grass
You must grow wildly over the graves

 Well, we missed the birth but her husband stepped in and caught his daughter. Experienced parents, water off a duck's back.

In other news, lotsa grapes for the first time! And the elderberries are ready to pluck. But you know what. It's too effing hot to do anything except get in the lake and stand there (well, I swim to the buoy and around). Felix and I have already been there once but there is another trip to the water in our future. 

I called Mary M to tell her that her governor is an idiot. As if she didn't know. Insecurity and anxiety is our new normal, right? 

I am checking my blood sugar and finally deciding to take statins for my cholesterol. There are only so many things I can do, diet and exercise wise, that fix anything. Especially with family genetics. It's disappointing that I won't be able to say I'm not on any meds...sheesh, just like a real old person. 

And can we talk? I've lost 10 pounds in the last year so I'm 138 pretty reliably. Why are my boobs so big? Why? Eden convinced me to order 10 bras of different sizes and designers, try them on and send back the ones that don't work. She told me to use a credit card ($700+!!!) I'm waiting for the package to arrive. She is a clever girl so I trusted her. 

She's much better, BTW. The surgeon told her to begin PT and she can begin to use her arm. The dog is gone and now she can take jobs (with help from her cousin Sarah) and begin to have an income again. I've been so worried about her. I know you know. 

Went to Ventura with my women Dharma friends and we walked on the beach and talked and talked and hung out. I also saw the inside of a famous rock star's house because Rachel was staying there. To describe my amazement and astonishment would be an understatement. You know when you act like everything is normal but you are faking it. I tried hard to be cool but it was a bit of a stretch.  Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? Alice in Wonderland? 

Tomorrow I facilitate a memorial for a baby who died. I wrote something but it's all inadequate. Showing up is really all we can do. Sometimes we're just hanging on. 

With the folks I mentor, I've been asking, "Who are you?" It's a really good, unanswerable question.

Who are you, really?

 

 This is Hardy. He's three day old. Bless his little life. As our hearts ache for another family, we have this.

Dear friends-

There are so many ways hearts can break. Driving home to Seattle yesterday, I learned that we had an incident at the clinic. I can say no more. I can say no more. 

We are unutterably sad. 

This time of cataclysm, large and small. 

 The unshielded heart hurts and compassion is awakened. 

 Dear friends-

Right now I'm in the Cascade/Sisikiyou National forest in Oregon. with dear friends Traci and Brian and their kids Hazel and Hucksley (my midwife babies) Traci is an old friend of Maya's from junior high. We were all headed to Manton Cal for our annual time at the lodge where there's a pond and a fabulous house with all the things. We eat, swim, play games and hang out. 

However.

Fire season is upon us and if we're not in immanent danger, there is smoke. Lots of smoke. I was headed for Manton on day two with Felix after an interesting night in a Motel 6 (egad) and was driving by Ashland where I knew Traci and all were camping. I hesitated and then thought I'd stop in to say hi. And I stayed the night, unprepared for camping. I squeezed into their tent and swam in the hot springs pool.

Because Manton was getting smoked out. 

Worry. Worry. Worry. 

So we last minute got an airbnb near to Ashland and took a hair raising drive up to this nice cabin way the fuck up the side a some mountain with a long lake (except the lake has dried up). 

This morning I woke early and went outside. Smoke. Shit.

So I got the other adults up and we decided after much internet searching to stay for today. The air has cleared out and the sun is shining so we're gonna stay. Maya is coming here. 

For now, we're putting together the annual jigsaw (this year it's two chihuahuas humping, I shit you not). I didn't choose it, honest. We're gonna go for a hike, the dog has had his morning ball throwing session and blessedly, we're all together. There are lots of deer and fledgling robins in the rafters over the porch. It's very quiet. Very quiet. 

Fires all around us. All up and down the West coast. 

Our poor planet. 

We must be kind. We must be activists for global warming. As you all know. 

May all of us be safe and protected. 

SUMMER OF SOUL you must see

Dear friends-

It's currently 61 degrees in Seattle  with overcast skies. After prevaricating for a month, I've decided to risk it and travel down to Manton, Cal on Thursday. It's very hot there and very dry. Felix will accompany me. I'll either camp out somewhere or get a cheap hotel room that accepts dogs on the way down and back. 

Rolling anxiety with increased infections, wildfires and all. 

Jeff Bezos took an 11 minute spaceship ride. WTF. I just saw the doc "Summer of Soul", terrific film with archival footage from the "Black" Woodstock. It's a series of concerts held in Harlem in the summer of '69 with an astonishing line-up of musicians. Stevie Wonder (age 19!), The Staple Singers, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Sly and the Family Stone, Nina Simone !!!!!!! The moon walk happened that year and there were interviews with Black folks. Of course, they questioned why money spent on space exploration wasn't being spend to house and feed people. Well yeah. 

But here we are, reaping the results of our collective greed and grasping. 

In other news, Deanna and I have decided to demolish the strawberry bed and feed the soil and start over. Strawberries give it up after about 3 years so we will start over. We do love strawberries. The blackberries are ripening here. I still have jam from last year and I don't know if I will make jam this year. I might just pick and eat and wait for Deanna's plums so I can make plum jam instead.

Judith and I braved REI yesterday for freeze-dried dinners for our trip to the Boundary Waters in August. It's a canoe trip for five days. I have most of the stuff I need from previous backpacking trips. The outfitters are supplying the food and after reading the menu, I realized I'd have to bring my own food. After this year of intestinal drama, I need to avoid pretty much everything listed.  There are no veggies but a lot of meat and pudding. Oh dear. I don't mean to be a food snob but...I am. 

Be safe and well, dear friends. Wherever you live on this suffering planet, perhaps offer gratitude for all the living beings we coexist with. 

 Elizabeth took me to Huntington Gardens, a gorgeous big park in Pasadena. Mostly swooned over the Chinese and Japanese gardens, especially the bonsai. 

And we hung out and talked. But mostly just being with a person I have known and loved for years, all virtual was so remarkable. Like the first time I hugged someone during the pandemic.

I want a piece of Rebecca's apple pie. Pie heals. Pass it on.

 This is Maya, my beautiful angelic older daughter. She has a reservoir of calm and peace and equanimity that helps all in her orbit. I have loved her before she was born. When I think of her, I remember my hand on my belly as she rolled around inside me. How mysterious that was. How magical. Because the hospital back then whisked babies away from mothers, I didn't hold her for 10 hours. And I didn't see her naked until we got home. When we did, I undressed her completely and laid her body against mine. I had to own her, smell her, feel her. Like the mare licking her newborn foal, I had to be an animal and declare, "This is mine, I made this, I own this." And I did. I made the heart vow to protect her and care for her. Forever. 

She moves with grace and beauty in this world. 

 That there is a photo of Felix in our woods before the terrible heat wave that struck the PNB such a terrible blow. It's warmer in Seattle than LA where I am right now. Eden is doing so much better, still dizzy from the concussion but cranky and funny and adorable.

I met Elizabeth! We've been blog friends for, she says, 10 years and she is as splendid as you would expect. She took me to an enormous park, Huntington Park, with a Japanese Garden and a Chinese garden and bonsai garden and a corpse flower that was about to open. It was so beautiful. I have been staying in an area of LA full of 'old money' homes with the most extraordinary gardens. In the midst of a horrible drought, people have green lawns and lush flowers. E said that all the pick up trucks we were seeing  belonged to the gardeners. Of course she's right. 

Which reminds me. How is it we go on with our ordinary lives while we are witnessing a dying planet? Is it denial or magical thinking or the resilience of our species? Or all of it. We keep making art and babies and dinner. All we truly have is this moment and then this moment and then this. Our beloved children, the strangers at the airport, the woman who walks by Eden's house every evening with her little black and white dog, all yearning for the same things; connection, love, acceptance, forgiveness, a comfortable pillow. 

Tonight I read about bodhichitta,  the heart/mind that is awake. Fortunately for us, there is always an awakened heart within us. We can access it any time. When I'm feeling especially grumpy or critical or depressed, if I can remember that that awakened heart is here right now, I can begin to turn to another way of thinking or behaving. When I met Elizabeth yesterday,  my heart leapt. Literally. I bathed in the kind regard we have for one another. Can I expand this for strangers? For those I feel ambivalence for or dislike?  Can I treat everyone (and all living things) with kindness? 

Dear ones. The open vulnerable heart is a great force for good. Being here with my child, I am reminded of the lengths parents go to protect and care for their children. Can I shine that light on the lizard on the wall, the pomegranate tree by the road, the tomato plant by Eden's front door?   

Much love and kindness to all.  

In honor of Yogi, the best dog in the world

 Kenny, my angelic neighbor, sauntered over last night and asked if I had any use for an AC. Whatttttt?????

He borrowed my wheel barrow and came back with an AC and tools for installing it in my bedroom window. Most of my house is 90-ish and my bedroom is a delicious 74. 

I did spend most of the day in the lake. As I will be spending tomorrow as well. 

Tuesday I go to LA, WHERE IT IS COOLER THAN HERE. 

What the actual fuck. 

BTW the dog and cat have melted. Completely. Poor animals covered with fur/hair.

 Face timed with Eden. Face timed-what have we come to, is that a word?

She's ok, trussed up but says she fed herself today with one hand/arm. And she told a very funny story about the Rumanian doctor who removed the staples in her head; heavy accent, bright costume jewelry, painted nails, about 60-ish, tut-tutting the staple job, blamed it on the young intern and called Eden honey, as in 'oh honey'. Reminded me of her Hungarian grandmother. As much as my former Hungarian in-laws used to anger me, I admired them. They were survivors, made it to the US as refugees and rebuilt their lives in upstate New York. Their two children went to Harvard and Columbia. Steve, my ex, became a doctor (I know, a stereotype-my son the doctor). But they left Budapest with nothing, just the shirts on their backs. Steve's dad once showed me the backpack Margaret, his wife, made for 6 year old Steve to wear as they escaped the communists that had overtaken their city. 

I was an asshole back then. I was young with two small children. I wasn't Jewish and I had daughters, not sons. (yes, I heard that the day I gave birth to Eden) Still, with hindsight, they suffered incredible losses and they survived, they survived. As so many do in this world. They weren't perfect but they loved their grand daughters. And Eden has honored them by her Hungarian cookbook. May it be published!

In other news, we're experiencing a heat wave. The city is freaking out. It's amazing. Seattlites. LOVE to discuss the weather because it's so...um nothing here mostly. Rain? OMG. a bit of snow-apocalypse now. I will admit, it's mighty hot here and we have ourselves to thank for the heating of the planet but we'll get through this bit. Kenny came over with two fans under his arms to offer me as he was getting AC. And I have a standing invite if it gets too much in my house, even the dog is invited. 

My solution: go swimming and wear my wet suit until it dries out, then go swimming again etc. Not me wet suit as in neoprene, just my regular polyester suit. Felix swims too and retains wet hair. Sheesh. 

I will admit. Felix is pretty limp.

Well dears. I must water the garden as the sun goes down. Tomorrow an early swim and then a quiet day. And a visit to a new baby :-).  I ma have to go jump in the lake one more time...

 Just got the word. Surgery tomorrow at 7 AM. And I'm not going back until next week. I let go of being there right away. It'll be ok, she'll be ok. My midwife brain says go now but I can't. Sweet baby Jeezus. 

Let all the benevolent beings protect and watch over her. My beautiful girl.

 Dear friends-

Back from LA and waiting for Eden's surgery to be scheduled. She's been to a few appointments and she needs one more x-ray before final approval. Sheesh. 

I cooked and cleaned and watched Netflix with my girl. She showered a few times and I combed out her tangled hair and braided it. What a tender thing to do, comb long wet hair. I haven't combed her hair since she was a child. 

Her cousin has been very helpful and present. Today I'll buy another ticket to return, probably next Monday or Tuesday. The less said about air travel right now, the better. Fortunately LA has a few small airports so I don't have to fly into LAX, a huge behemoth. 

The pull to be with her is so strong. Watching her be in pain is so hard. My dear friend and dharma teacher Mary visited me and we sat on Eden's dinky deck and laughed and chatted, was a relief to step outside the caretaker role for a minute. I am of course thinking of all the caregivers who tend to a loved one, day after day. Heart wringing. Persistent. 

This morning I'm meeting Clark for a lake swim, the first of the year. I better get going. 

Love to you all. 

Beth

River - Joni Mitchell (Cover)

 Dear friends-

Last night I got a call that no parent wants to get. Eden, my younger daughter, was in the ER after an incident with her poorly controlled rescue dog. She'd already gotten a bloody nose from being pulled off balance by her dog who lunges at other dogs, people, etc. This time she was knocked down, sustained a concussion  and a broken collar bone and a laceration on the back of her head. She lost consciousness briefly. Her friend was calling me to let me know where she was and to tell me that they are recommending surgery because the broken bone could potentially puncture her lung. 

(pause)

It was the middle of the night. The first flight I could get was this afternoon so I'm anxiously waiting to leave the house, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning out the litter box, scrubbing the toilet...you know, to stay busy. Thank goodness for credit cards. I called family to let them know. Her dad and my brother are stepping up to help her financially because she's self employed and who knows when she'll be able to work again. Thank goodness for them. Nancy, who just house sat for me, responded to my midnight text with -'sure, no problem, I'll stay and care for house and dog and cat'. Thank goodness for her friendship. She has two daughters too. She knows.

I'm trying not to cry but I just start up. I hate that I'm so far away. I'm grateful that we can fly again and I'll be there tonight. Our babies, we can't keep them safe, can we? Felix knows something is going on. He's very quiet and staring at me. 

I return on Sunday. My objective is to give the effing dog back to the shelter, get my girl set with visits and friends and food and trips to the doc, you know, all the things. 

We do anything for them, don't we?

I don't even know what I packed. LA is very hot. I don't care. I just want to get there. To hold her and tell her it's gonna be ok. 

In the ambulance I held you in my arms

you were small and limp

wearing a nightgown with light blue flowers

I thought you might die

sirens pitched through country roads

I was making deals

please take me 

I can go in her place

take me

I knew then I would do anything

mothers do this

they give all the bread to the children

so the children might live

they stand in front of soldiers with guns

they swim across with the baby on their back

everywhere, mothers are holding out their arms

walking forward into the burning fields

saying, take me so she might live