My Boy

Oh joy!  I'm seeing my grandson for the first time in 3 months, and since he's started walking.  The minute they got out of the car he started chopping up the sidewalk.  No holding hands for this little one, he wants to be moving, and mom and dad are just too slow.

He's a power-walker for sure.  And when he takes a spill, he folds his little body like a pill bug and rolls with it.  Then he's up again before you know it.

He's still delighted by this mode of transportation.  (So much better than rolling or crawling.) He laughs as he walks, and holds out his hands to feel the wind.  It is inspiring to see someone so danged happy.

We walked all around the block, following him where he wanted to go.  Pulling him away from the street when he ventured too close.

A commuter train was coming at one point, the barriers closing and the bells clanging and the lights flashing.  We thought he'd get a kick out of it, but no, when he came to our corner (for the first time) he turned left and headed for home like a horse getting back to the barn for feeding time.

He's "all boy" as the GF says.

A boy on a mission, a boy on the move.  A boy that swells my heart with fierce love and goodness.

Gosh, I love having a grandson.

Friday Musings

The boy's first birthday was a blast and he was hilarious plowing into a little cake of his very own that one of his aunties made for him.  The party was definitely for the adults -- no one year old cares or remembers the party.  He napped through the first hour of it.

I spent most of my time talking and eating with my ex-husband (my daughter's father) and his ex-girlfriend (who I went to college with).  The passage of time has brought healing and even humor to us.  He snapped a photo of J. and me, and she quipped, "Portrait of the Exes!"  And I quipped, "Ah, yes, his Harem."  And he laughed.

Met this fellow, James, who was on American Idol one season ago.  He's a Santa Cruz local, and a friend of my daughter's.  He was at the party with his wife and 4 year old son.  Nice guy, loving daddy, just a regular rocker Joe.



I did get a little punch to my heart watching the other grandparents, the locals, interacting with Eden.  It happened before I knew what was coming: a pang of regret that I moved away just as this little guy was getting ready to enter the world.  He knows his other grandparents much more consistently than he does me.  But oh, when I visit, he does know who I am and it makes me so very glad.

Drove home today and readied the house for the GF's visit.  I made salmon - in a crock pot - with baked yam and green beans (in the microwave).  All prepared in my little quasi-kitchen in my little apartment.  The first dinner I've cooked there.  Turned out to be very easy with the help of these two appliances.  You can make a lot in a slow cooker pot and a microwave oven.  The opposite ends of the cook time spectrum, they worked well in harmony.  If you're interested in how to cook salmon in a slow cooker, go here.

I'm sleepy and finally ready for bed.  A great couple of days, and my beloved is sawing logs in the next room.  Gracias a la vida!  Hope you have a fantastic weekend and eat some really delicious food, to boot!

Last Friday in June

Well, friends, it certainly has been a eventful month.  Pride celebrations, my birthday, hospital adventures, and Supreme Court rulings.  I couldn't be more pleased that the Affordable Care Act was upheld by the court -- who woulda thunk that the Chief Justice would have been the swing vote?  Good for him!

Love continues to blossom for me, and each passing week provides more treasures and delights and insights.  One of the biggest 'A-HAs' for me is my discomfort with anger.  Not that anyone has gotten angry (yet) but it came out of a discussion with my gal:  how people deal with anger (or not).  See, she's incredibly thoughtful and articulate about communication and the stylistic differences that can cause problems in relationships.  She is entering this relationship very consciously and we have the most interesting talks.  She is challenging me, just by her being herself, to bring my best self forward.

Yes, I am completely freaked out when someone I like or love is angry with me.  She sent me this link yesterday because she saw how freaked out I was about anger.  We have to be able to get angry, right?  I'm so tired of relationships where the anger hides below the surface, screwing with hearts and minds and undermining any chance of lasting happiness.  I want to be able to face my fears around anger and release them.  According to this assessment, my most valued qualities in a relationship are Words of Affirmation and Quality Time.  This would help explain my avoidance of anger.  Being affirmed is most cherished by me, and I read anger as rejection of me.  So that's where I need to do some work.

When I think about my family, I know I can be angry with them momentarily and still love them immensely.  This is especially true regarding my daughter.  My anger over an issue or action would not lead me to withdraw my love -- I couldn't if I tried.  The love is there, deep and true, and nothing is going to change that. 

Feel like taking the assessment? It takes about 10 minutes max.  Love to hear what language of love you value most.

####

My folks are headed down to UCLA Med Center so mom can be evaluated for study on Parkinson's.  I'll have the house to myself for many days, and I can't tell you how excited I am.  Excited that she may enter the study, and excited that I'm going to have the house to myself.  Dad is asking if they will return to find it burnt to the ground from one of my crazy parties.  He's also promising to have a drone keep an eye on the place in his absence.  See, even at 55, I apparently cannot be trusted when the parents are away.  Because, as you know, I am a wild and crazy party gal.  Sex, drugs, rock and roll all the way.  I'll be so busy debauching that I probably won't have time to post anything at all.  Maybe a few lewd photographs of the shenanigans.  

No Boat Drinks, But WiFi on the Deck

Here in Grass Valley the squirrels often walk upright.  Summer days are lazy and dinners are pretty frickin' delicious.  We (the bums and I) recount old stories, drink great red wine and know the names of all the birds that visit the garden and forest.  Today on our hike Robin spotted a Western Tanager for the first time this season.  A beautiful bird!  And she identified a smell that I could not place - something akin to artichoke - kit-kitdizze.  A pungent lil' bugger.  Also the name of poet Gary Snyder's place in the foothills somewhere around here.

That's how it works at Chez Bums.  Weird tangential shit happens all the time.  They regale me with stories about meeting the likes of Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Alan Ginsberg.  We listen to great music from the sixties along side Nirvana and Greg Brown.

We are now reclined on the back deck where wifi reception is quite good and the sound of the overhead sprinklers punctuate the early evening.  The only thing missing is the boat drinks.  We are on the Good Ship Lollipop where no one ever gets sea-sick and life-jackets are not required.

The other good news - it is NOT 99 degrees here, like it is in Sacramento.  "Bummer," says Robin.  I couldn't agree more.

The Three Goofs by Roger Mack

Good Knee News

Finally, some good damn news on my on-going arthritic knee: no surgery in the near future.  A month ago I had gel injected into the joint to lubricate it and to stop the grinding of bone on bone.  So far, so good.  I met with the doc today and he agrees that if I'm getting significant relief, then we wait and see.  I can get another gel injection in 6 months.

The FDA will only approve one gel injection every six months, which is odd since it is a natural substance.  My doc can inject cortisone every freaking day if we want, that's okay with the FDA.  But the cortisone no longer works for me and the gel does.  Way to go, FDA.

My walking is no longer followed by the need to ice the knee.  The knee hurt some when we were moving a few weeks ago, but that's par for the course.

Tonight I'm going out to hear some live music, and who knows, maybe dance a little with my date.   

Whatever you're doing this day, hope you have a good one, and a great weekend!

Inspiration Time

Just look at what I found on You Tube after watching a Sam Cooke video.  Somebody mentioned this kid's name in the comments so I went there.  Love the message, the music, the voice, the whole enchilada.

Happy Friday, Friends.  Hope this inspires you.

Coincidences

So, I'm reading  A Blue Hand by Deborah Baker.

The Tragicomic, Mind-Altering Odyssey of Allen Ginsberg, a Holy Fool, a Lost Muse, a Dharma Bum, and His Prickly Bride in India 

It's a well-researched book on the beat poets, primarily Ginsberg, and his quest to find god (or perhaps his sanity) and figure out what he's supposed to be writing about -- if he's supposed to be writing at all.  The latest literary figure to drift into Ginsberg's story is Paul Bowles, who I don't know of.  He wrote the Sheltering Sky in 1949 and his fame from that publication is discussed in A Blue Hand.

Here comes the really interesting part: I was in the public library helping my mom negotiate her walker among the stacks, and the first set of shelves we come to, I look up at eye level and what do I see?  The Sheltering Sky.  Crap. Crappity Crap Crap.  Am I gonna pick it up and check it out of the library?  Of course I am.  The sheer randomness of it all gives me a big belly laugh.

Friday Birthday Musings

am referred me to a Mavis Staples song in her comment on my post, "Wow."  That referral led me to other videos from the marvelous Mavis, and this one seems appropriate to post today.



Nothing like the annual marking of one's birth to bring up existential questions, and this year is no exception.  Though I am tempted to lament that I am a year older today, Mavis reminds me that my time here is short, and milestones are to be celebrated.  In twenty years I'll look back and laugh that I thought 54 was 'old.'  Especially because I have looked back, and laughed at all those birthdays that had me panicked: 21 and 30 and 40.  50, on the other hand, was no problem: I even bought myself a beautiful ring to celebrate my half-century mark.  Go figure.  With age comes wisdom?

As that darling man Ram Dass intoned all those years ago, "Be Here Now."  So I shall, happily and gratefully.

Respite

Botanical Building, Balboa Park

Yesterday I took a much needed break, got outside and went to the park.  The Botanical Building was closed, much to my dismay.  Open Friday through Wednesday.  I was there Thursday, of course.

Nevertheless, the weather was super fine and I strolled around snapping photos, looking at sites I've seen since early childhood.  We used to take Easter pictures at the park, Christmas photos and shots of the grandparents and kids when they came to visit from Los Angeles.  My grandmother used a couple of locations in this park for her own home-made photographic Christmas cards way back 1930's.  She, my great aunts and uncles, knew this place well.  One of my great aunts was able to snag some wooden columns from the park when the 1915 World's Fair closed, and used them for the front porch of her house.

This was the first time in days that I've been out of the house. I've been working hard, and felt mighty weary.  This outing was needed, and appreciated deeply.

Friday Musings

Okay, I'm saying it officially here, this is what I want played (yes, this video, this version) at my eventual funeral and/or memorial service.  I'm not going anywhere soon, so this is not a coded message that I'm on my way out.  Just saying.



Driving through California on Sunday, I caught an NPR show on Judy Collins, who, apparently, has a new cd out.  The show was a rebroadcast from this past summer.  It as delightful to hear her talk about her collaborations with Leonard Cohen; how he encouraged her to write her own songs, and she encouraged him to sing the songs he wrote.  I have always adored her music, her voice.  I did notice (once more), however, that she her voice has a thin reedy quality that sometimes is a bit over the top for me.  As if she is singing one octave too high.  When I was younger, this kind of singing really appealed.  Now, I like the range lowered a bit, as it allows the nuances to enter in the voice.  Joni Mitchell is a good example of this.  Her high, young girl voice now has deep resonance.  An inevitable, enviable, exhilarating transformation.

Have a lovely weekend.

Just Another Day

Mubarak has resigned...now I can get back to sweeping floors and kneading bread. It's amazing, really, what Egyptians have done. Now their real work begins -- can you imagine sorting it all out? Eh, not me. Filling the green waste can with lemon tree clippings, and sweeping the dead leaves out of the gutter is about all I can handle. I'm keeping it small.

All power to these people: they've earned it, let's hope they get the kind of government they want. When stuff like this happens, it makes me wonder if I would have what it takes to participate in a righteous revolution?

Today, around the neighborhood, though, it's just another day. Thank goodness. Happy Friday, y'all.

Friday Musings

"It's not easy to find 

happiness in ourselves, and

it is not possible to find it elsewhere."

--Agnes Repplier

Friday Musings...and Happy Update

Here we are 3.5 years ago. Both recovering from broken leg injuries. We needed a picture with our canes - two 'old' ladies! Then People magazine did a story on us.*

This woman has been my friend for 50 years. She's been a friend of the family for longer than that. She and I have a connection...a soul connection. We are confidants, buddies, who like to discuss world politics, the nature of being, affairs of the heart -- all while having a dry martini and crackers with Stilton cheese.

I've written about her before in these pages; her home that is largely unchanged since her children moved on in the mid-seventies. Her zest for life, her love of good food and her beautifully open heart. She has loved me unconditionally all my life. She tells me sweet stories of my childhood while we sit at the kitchen table that is the same table I sat at when I was a small child.

She now lies in a hospital bed recovering from emergency surgery...drifting in and out of a haze. The jury is still out. If only her body would bounce back more vigorously...everything is sluggish and taking its time. I keep the family informed, I check in with her daughter, I went to sit with her one afternoon. Her humor is intact. She hears a lot of what's going on around her bed, but she is too tired to participate, so she rests.

She's pulled through before...she'll probably pull through this time. I'm trying not to 'borrow' trouble. It is odd to contemplate this world without her. My dad said that, and when he did I broke down and cried my heart out. Yet, I know, she is going where we all go...wherever that is. I'm going there, too. You, too. What a strange thing to think about...so I don't, generally. Then these physical things happen to people I know...and the passage is right in my face again. I'm forced to contemplate it.

*Not really. Thanks to Hahn at Home for this idea.

Kids, yesterday, unbeknownst to me at the time, she's turned the corner! Internal organs creaking back to life....she is lucid and eating solid food. Yipee Yahoo!

Oh The Blogs I Find

This post from Mammamolina is a year old. I don't recall how I got to her post...wait, oh yeah, blogher, which is Soccer Mom. In any case, I felt compelled to address her fear and loathing of homosexuals. She writes:

"When it comes to business, I lean more towards a laissez faire approach. I think generally consumers are most effective when they speak with their pocket-books.

Although few long term boycotts have not been that effective. I do, however, think this idea just might work.

Apparently Walmart has decided to throw support behind some homosexual causes. In fact, 5% of the online sales the day after Thanksgiving will be donated to the Washington DC Community Center for Gay, Lesbian Bisexual and Transgender People. I shop at Walmart a lot (A LOT!) and am very disappointed they've decided to make such a bold statement in support of a group of people that have defined themselves by abominable and destructive sexual behavior. I certainly will not be shopping online or at their store the weekend following Thanksgiving.

What I'm hoping we will be able to do is throw some support of our own behind some of the great family-owned, Christian homeschooling companies this year. Here's a few links to some of my favorite ones if you'd like to check them out.

http://rainbowresource.com/index.php?sid=1149535501-1828587
(They give free shipping on orders of $150 or more)"

Uh, "rainbowresource?" Sounds gay to me!

My response to this post, "I don't shop Walmart on principle...I abhor the wanton consumerism of cheap products from China. Hope you didn't purchase an Aqua Dots there!

As to Walmart supporting causes you don't approve of, I hope that through prayer you may find peace in your heart to accept your gay brothers and sisters, who are - btw - also God's children.

Blessings."

Here's this 'good christian woman' spreading hate and intolerance. We need more authentically good christian people speaking up in favor of true christian values. Amen.

When Pigs Fly

Get out your backpacks and canned food! The San Jose Mercury News has declared tomorrow as "Earthquake Preparation Day." They ain't kiddin'. Robin Andrea knows. She was sharp enough to remember than the Loma Prieta Quake was preceded by a 5.4 in the weeks leading up to that fateful day.

I look around my house at all the unsecured items - pictures, pottery, shells. I know they'll all go a'flying. Just look at all that stuff!!

One very important item to have readily on hand: sturdy shoes. As I discovered in the 7.1, lots of broken glass, rock, brick, wood splinters end up on the floor and the ground outside. Back then, I had a backpack stuffed with essentials, and my hiking boots tied to it, sitting by the front door.

Why do I always laugh and procrastinate when it comes to such vital work? Because, I'm in denial! I'll be in denial until I'm sitting in the middle of a room that has been tossed by a quake. Maybe even then I won't believe it. I'll be denial when I realize I have run out of my insulin and all the pharmacies are closed because of no electricity. Then I'm screwed.

I'll be in denial until it all falls apart and I realize I've got one gallon of gas in the car. For years after the LP quake, I made sure to fill 'er up when I got to half a tank. I got caught with little gas before, and all the gas stations were closed because there was no power for a couple of days.

Will I actually DO something tomorrow? Like prepare? Stay tuned.

Friday Musings

I have to admit, I was never an avid fan of the Grateful Dead. I know ppppllllleeeeenty of folks who were, though. I recognize what a cultural force they were, and continue to be. My friends who were Dead Heads followed this group around in their VW buses, Volvo station wagons and Chevy Novas. Most, but not all, were also fans of LSD and marijuana. I went to one show at the Monterey County Fairgrounds in Watsonville, CA. It was fun, the music nice, but still, I didn't 'get it.' Oh well. Apologies to Annie.

UMass Amherst launched a course this fall entitled "How Does the Song Go? The Grateful Dead as a Window into American Culture," a class that uses the popular band as an analytical prism for society. Do you think any other bands/artists could be the basis of an entire course?

Well, Dylan without a doubt, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen. The course at UMass provides a window into the political, cultural, historical ramifications of the times. I think it's a great 'hook' to bring 18 & 19 year olds into their education.

Friday Musings

The wind is really kicking up here on the coast. Dry leaves and dirt are scraping across the parking lot as I make my way up the hill to work. My sinuses ache from the debris. The browns and oranges of autumn are fully present all around me...the duff from the pine trees is piled high and there is that pungent, distinctive seasonal scent in the air. How did it get to be October?

This is a memorable month for me: I had a significant miscarriage in October way back when. I remember sitting in the back yard holding a hot water bottle to my aching abdomen, tears in my eyes, looking around at the bright blue sky against my white house, wondering how the world could appear unchanged when of course everything had just changed. My then husband coming home, finding me outside, and handing me an abundant bouquet of flowers with tears in his own eyes.

It was October many years and a baby later that I moved out of my husband's house, knowing in my bones that we were not suited for one another. Two days later the Loma Prieta earthquake hit, making me ask if this was a sign from God that I had made a mistake. Nope, just a natural disaster that brought people together and allowed us to see the goodness in each other. The air was still and warm, the sky an unusually bright blue, as is customary here in October.

Five years forward in yet another October I had a commitment ceremony with my girlfriend. A lavish affair complete with white dresses, dripping pearls, and flower girls throwing rose petals in our path. It was outside in the hills, and so windy that our arch almost blew away. It took some strong friends to hold it in place for the remainder of the ceremony. In pictures they appear to be secret service men guarding the sweet lil' lesbians in white. I had long hair, and had put enough hair spray in it to choke a horse, and despite the wind, it stayed in place. My clothes were blowing all over my body, hugging my shape in ways I'd rather it didn't, but damn, the hair stayed in place.

October. Again. I'm in a completely different place and situation. Baby grown, commitment ceremony girl gone, somewhat, ah, older. A different wife, and a stepdaughter, a bedroom painted butter yellow and a house across the road from Monterey bay. I can walk across and sink my toes into the sand any time I want to. Mostly I watch the surfers come and go, washing their seawater bodies with bottles of fresh water after peeling off their wet suits. Wrapping their toned butts in a beach towel while standing in my front yard. My two brave dogs bark and growl at the encroachment, and the surfers bark right back.

October. Again.

Friday Musings

Empty-hearted in society,
How deeply moved I am
By the snipe calling
In the evening marsh.

-Saigyo.