anna pieka valentine

hoop love!

2010-07-11T21:34:00.003-04:00

Not too long ago, I saw this video on Boho's blog.

I'm in awe.

And yesterday a new friend taught me to hula with her homemade hoop. I was instantly hooked! I went to a couple of stores, but the cheap, flimsy hoops that I found were very sad. I couldn't get them to do what they're supposed to do... and for the first time ever, I blamed the hoop instead of my body.

So, I looked online and found DIY instructions. One trip to Lowe's, where I'm glad I hemmed and hawed instead of overspending, and then a trip to Mendard's, where I found just what I needed for about half as much money. It was easy and fun and very satisfying to make my own hoops, and I'm tellin' ya- these hoops are magic. Everyone's a natural.

transitioning (again?)

2010-05-17T21:11:00.003-04:00

It almost seems silly to say that I'm going through another transition~ it's sort of what I do. But I think this one is different...

Well, I DO.

It came out of that special brand of clarity that comes out of crisis, and I think there's something to it. Without getting too involved, I'll just say that a relationship came to a close and the current source of my salary was never meant to last forever. (And time really does pass quickly.) Once again, I had to decide: What Next?

I did some hemming. I did some hawing. I cried. I grumped. I created scenarios (including some really ridiculous ones) inside my head. And it all crystallized into these two Big Questions:

Where do I really want to live?
and
What do I really want to do?

There's a lot that I can't control. That's a lesson I've learned a thousand times over. But what I can do is listen as kindly as possible when my heart speaks up.

I don't want to move away. And the thing I've loved the very most is being a postpartum doula. That's what I want~ to stay here where I'm so at home, and to be a postpartum doula all the time.

I decided to tell someone.

It seems that I told the right person, because all of a sudden everything starting falling into my lap. I wanted to be more involved in the birth/doula/new family scene and three days later I was offered a teaching spot with an awesome local organization. I wanted to go to a DONA postpartum doula certification workshop, but the closest one was in Chicago, so I e-mailed the teacher and asked if she'd like to come here. She responded half an hour later, saying "Sure!" I didn't have to talk anyone into anything. And that's just how it's been going.

It's been like magic.

So here I am, surrounded by opportunity and hosting a hearty colony of bronchitis bugs. Maybe one day life will stop surprising me so completely, but it sure hasn't happened yet.

more fun with rocks

2010-03-13T14:12:00.004-05:00

The baby I've been taking care of is now 15 months old. (That whole thing about how quickly they grow up is cliche for good reason.) I've tried to stay connected with the girls I was with for the previous five years, and had a lunch date with the older one last weekend... but we weren't hungry.

I had brought along two painted rocks and a paint pen, so we sat outside in the sunshine and I explained how I had painted a bunch of rocks and that I had hidden one in a tree at the park. I suggested that we write on the rocks I'd brought and then hide them for people to find... She thought for a few seconds and said, "But what if they take them?" She seemed a bit perplexed when I said that that would be perfect. :)

Her idea for the purple rock was CAT. After a bit of carefully played discussion, we ended up with the cat's pajamas theme. With the creative juices flowing, her first suggestion for the yellow rock was much more elaborate... "How about you smell like a tomato?" And then, "what about you smell like a zucchini?" Oh, she's funny. (She really is an extraordinarily funny kid.) Then she suggested you smell sweet, which is how we ended up with the final product above. We placed the yellow rock on a shelf in the children's section at Borders, but I could tell she was having a hard time parting with the purple rock, so I offered her the option of taking it home. She graciously accepted.

A few weeks ago, I went to check on the Play! rock, and it was still there! It has been rained on and snowed on, so the paint is wonderfully peely and cracked. I hope that someone has seen it and just chose to leave it for other people to find.

*The same day that I went to check on the rock, we were walking around the park and saw a little Yorkie running around. She stopped and appeared to be getting ready to tinkle, but instead she lifted her hind legs off the ground.

We looked at her, looked at each other in disbelief, looked back at her, and LAUGHED. She just gave us this what?? kind of look and trotted off. We'd bring it up and giggle for the rest of the day. I just wish I'd had my camera ready.

guerilla art fairy, that's me

2009-12-11T11:29:00.006-05:00

I like to make stuff. I especially like to not make the *same* stuff all the time. One thing I'd been wanting to do for a while was to paint rocks, so I finally did.

I went to May's Greenhouse and picked out some nicely-shaped landscaping stones and brought them home and, well... they sat around for a while. (I'm really good at collecting supplies, but there is often a gap between the acquisition and the creating.)

The first day that I did anything with the rocks, Matt called just after I started in. He asked what I'd done so far that day, and was perhaps a bit less than impressed when I told him that I'd painted half a rock blue. "I could paint half a rock blue," he said.

Several rocks were painted (with a coat of gesso first, which makes the colors turn out better) and words were added with a paint pen (I HEART PAINT PENS) and suddenly I had a big jumble of inspiring, brightly-colored reminder stones. Silly me, though, things were so busy that I failed to take a photo of them all together. In any case, a few sold at the Holiday Market, two are in "my" bedroom at Matt's house, one is in my studio at Matt's, two are destined to be stocking stuffers, and one...

One was placed in a place, and has hopefully been found by now.

We went back to May's a few days ago and I gathered another armful of cold, smoothish, roundish stones. They've all had a coat of gesso, and one coat of color on one side, and I hope to commit some random acts of art on Sunday. Keep an eye out as you walk around town~ there may be little treasures here and there.

Southern Indiana is rather lovely.

2009-10-13T10:34:00.014-04:00

(I started writing this entry long ago, and am finally revisiting, revising, and posting it! Tah-dah!)

A few weeks ago, Matt and I took a little trip down to New Harmony~ I had been there twice before and wanted to show him around, but there were some fabulous surprises in store for both of us... New Harmony is lovely, but we also found two other spot just a little farther South that made us EXTRA-SPECIAL happy.

Matt had discovered a place called Twin Swamps a couple of years ago~ he just happened to stumble across an article written by a grad student, and was intrigued. It seems that the Northernmost stand of Bald Cypress trees is there. We found it, but it's in a spot that you'd miss if you weren't specifically looking for it. We walked along the trail, some of which is covered by a walkway because the ground is marshy (which is why the cypress trees are able to grow there) and it was magical~ we were the only ones there.

We were just far enough to the South that there were all sorts of things growing that can't grow here, and I was mesmerized by all the little treasures I was finding. Some of them were completely new to me, and others were just different versions of familiar doodads. (I'm easily amused.)

After exploring Twin Swamps, we stopped at Hovey Lake. We had passed it on our way and decided that it was imperative that we investigate. And OMG, as they say. It's one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Ever.

The trees at Twin Swamps were gorgeous, and it was really cool to be able to see the trunks and root formations up close. But there are many more in Hovey Lake, standing out in the water, and it's just WOW.

It was colder than average during our visit, so we were lucky enough to have the lake to ourselves, too. There are lots of water birds there, and I think we'll go back in the spring for a canoe adventure...

Well, I have more to share, but the baby is up from his nap and I don't want to set this post aside for another three weeks, so I'll just publish as is. Consider a visit to these spots!

preview...

2009-10-07T23:24:00.003-04:00

It's been so long since I've posted that someone finally gave me a little nudge. (Thanks!) Momentarily, I should be sleeping, but here's a place-holder to remind us both of my intentions:

This past weekend, my sweetie and I had a little Southern Indiana getaway, and let me assure you, it was lovely~ more to come. (Really!)

some things must be said

2009-08-13T14:39:00.007-04:00

The other day, I popped in to a popular blog that I read sometimes, and found that the most recent post had to do with "sleep training", which is essentially leaving a baby to cry itself to sleep.

I've heard all of the arguments for it, all of the justifications and rationalizations. I understand that sleep deprivation takes a serious toll on parents and that it can make you desperate and willing to try just about anything. I hear you.

However.

I cannot wrap my brain or my heart around the idea that parents who won't let their babies cry and scream alone in a crib until they finally give up and fall asleep are somehow weaker. How can the capacity to listen from the next room while your baby screams for you be considered a sign of strength?

The blogger I mentioned wrote that her baby stood in his crib, shaking the bars and screaming, for an hour and a half. And someone commented that she herself wasn't strong enough to do this with her own baby...

It breaks my heart. It breaks my heart for the babies, but also for the parents who are made to feel that if they were better or stronger, they would just let their babies cry. There are a number of books written by "experts" that promote this idea, and it makes me more than a little bit angry.

I'll leave it at that. I'm not trying to spark a debate~ I just want to support those mamas and papas who can't bring themselves to follow popular opinion in this arena. You are not weak for snuggling your babies to sleep.

and now it's july

2009-07-09T11:28:00.003-04:00

How I wish I could share photos and video clips of the baby here~ when I'm the mama, I will... it's just hard to be patient about it sometimes. I have the nanny version of "always a bridesmaid."

Anyhow, what I can and will share today is this sweet old summertime picture of me and my childhood friend Wendy, and my first dog, Minnie. Homemade grape juice popsicles. Claymont. What a magical place that was~ I'll have to write more about it some time soon.

I'm happy and busy and distracted and sleepy and twitterpated. Grateful for a very fun weekend, looking forward to ever more fun and spontaneity, dreaming up little getaways and parties and surprises and adventures...

And now I hear Mr. Sleepyhead waking up and making funny noises. Happy July, dearies.

what? it's the middle of what? june? THE MIDDLE OF JUNE?

2009-06-14T16:32:00.007-04:00

Not that this is news to anyone who knows me, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist/procrastinator. This here blog (this poor, neglected blog) is proof. I wait around for the muse, for something worthy of a post, but then a month has gone by... Sometimes pie is a good enough reason to post, but other days it all just strikes me as too mundane. Or too scandalous (or simply Not Mine to Share) for a public audience.

ANYHOWS.

I'm in the midst of domestic upheaval over here. Changing around my entire apartment to make it work for me. Negotiating a romance, or not. Loving my job, but noticing that on many days it leaves me with relatively little to say, aside from the tedious gushing about how much I adore the baby.

But! Last week something magical and rare did happen.

I was hanging out with That Baby I Love So Much, and happened to glance up at the bay window just as a vaguely bird-shaped something landed on a branch about four feet away. I hopped up as slowly as one can hop, intrigued, but not wanting to scare the Thing away. And it was an OWL. A very small and very cute OWL, at four in the afternoon. And it only gets better: there was a whole family of them. Eastern Screech Owls. Mama, Papa, and four babies, and they stayed all day, and the day after that.

Taking photos in low light, without a flash, and with a baby attached to my body, always makes me wish for a better camera. But here they are~

Helloooooooo, chocolate pie!

2009-05-17T18:45:00.011-04:00

I just made this pie.

You should pretty much make one, too.

It's obscenely rich and chocolately, and (believe it or not) I've already had my fill just from licking the mixing spoon and the inside of the blender. (How's that for a visual?)

It takes about five minutes, if you don't count those few painful minutes of waiting for some water to boil and some chocolate to melt. (And if you're feeling fancy, which I was not, you could make your own crust.)

So, here's the scoop:

All you need is a blender or food processor, a double boiler (makeshift is fine), a graham cracker crust, a 12 oz. bag of chocolate chips, some vanilla and maple syrup, and the magical secret ingredient...

That's right. It's chocolate tofu pie.

While the water in the double boiler heats up, smoosh the tofu around in a blenderish gadget. A food processor works better, but a blender is fine~ you'll just have to help out a bit more with a spoon. Add about a teaspoon of vanilla and about two tablespoons of maple syrup and give it another whirl. Melt the chocolate chips, add the melted chocolate to the tofu, and mix it all up until you can't stand it any more.

Pour the mixture into the crust and LICK THE SPOON.

I've made it with espresso chocolate chips, which was pretty good, but I don't recommend using milk chocolate. Semi-sweet is perfect. Almond extract is a nice addition, as is shredded coconut... And the tofu MUST be the firm SILKEN kind. Otherwise, the texture will detract from the flavor.

It needs at least a couple of hours in the fridge, and then you can top it with fruit and whipped cream or ice cream or whatever sounds most delicious.

Enjoy!

new fun things hooray

2009-04-28T20:35:00.007-04:00

The art fair season is officially under way, and I'm having fun with some new additions to my booth... mostly these! --->

I've only made a few, but as soon as my next order of glass tiles arrives, I'll be playing in the studio and making more of these pendants, using various images from my photographs.

I LOVE THEM.

They're fun to make~ very gratifying. And I really enjoy the process of playing around with different images. Some photos I'd planned on using turned out to look pretty dumb, and others surprised me in a very happy kind of way.

(A few are up in my Etsy shop! And I can make custom ones with kid pictures, pet pictures, etc. Snazzy!)

another springy favorite

2009-04-19T12:38:00.003-04:00

Here's another favorite, which I found in The Pooh Bedside Reader, but which is actually from The House at Pooh Corner:

Noise, by Pooh

Oh, the butterflies are flying,
Now the winter days are dying,
And the primroses are trying
To be seen.

And the turtle-doves are cooing,
And the woods are up and doing,
For the violets are blue-ing
In the green.

Oh, the honey-bees are gumming
On their little wings, and humming
That the summer, which is coming
Will be fun.

And the cows are almost cooing,
And the turtle-doves are mooing,
Which is why a Pooh is poohing
In the sun.

For the spring is really springing;
You can see a skylark singing,
And the blue-bells, which are ringing,
Can be heard.

And the cuckoo isn't cooing,
But he's cucking and he's ooing,
And a Pooh is simply poohing
Like a bird.

------------------------------------------

I wonder if e.e. cummings and A.A. Milne read each other's work...

ode to spring

2009-04-04T20:44:00.004-04:00

I've been holding out until April to share this poem~ one of my favorite poems, by one of my favorite poets.

when faces called flowers float out of the ground
and breathing is wishing and wishing is having-
but keeping is downward and doubting and never
-it's april(yes,april;my darling)it's spring!
yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can fly
yes the little fish gambol as glad as can be
(yes the mountains are dancing together)

when every leaf opens without any sound
and wishing is having and having is giving-
but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense
-alive;we're alive,dear:it's(kiss me now)spring!
now the pretty birds hover so she and so he
now the little fish quiver so you and so i
(now the mountains are dancing,the mountains)

when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)

-e.e. cummings

Let the games begin!

2009-03-22T18:46:00.004-04:00

As of right this minute, I'm officially jumping into the art fair season with both feet! So far, I have seven art fairs in the next seven months. Hot diggity.

First up, Luna Festival~ this one is a women's art and business fair and will be held on Sunday, April 26th from 11am-4pm in the Showers Building.

And then, A Fair of the Arts! Whitney and I have been accepted for ALL SIX SHOWS. We are thrilled. We just started putting our work out there last year, and we did three FotA shows last season. This time around, I think we both kind of expected to be offered the same number of dates, but we're in every single show. Did I mention the part about us being thrilled? Because we ARE.

A Fair of the Arts takes place alongside the Farmer's Market in Showers Plaza, on the second Saturday of the month, from May through October. (Hooray for local food and local art!)

We'll be doing things a little bit differently, but will still be sharing a booth~ she makes amazing jewelry; I sell my greeting cards and prints of my photography, as well as a few other goodies. And there's a lot to do to get ready in the next few weeks!

Please stop in and say howdy! It's going to be super fantastic.

bird stalker

2009-03-17T20:09:00.003-04:00

There's a pair of pileated woodpeckers preparing to nest in the wooded area outside the house where I work. I watch for them whenever we pass by the bay window, pretending that we're standing there to greet the ficus, talking to the baby, "Good morning, friend plant! Hello, great outdoors!" I tell him about all of the edible fungus growing on the trees, all of the critters soaring or scampering by, all of the things we'll do together when he gets bigger... But all the while, I'm hoping for a pileated sighting.

Today was my Lucky Day. I saw both of them, and this one stayed for quite a while, working very diligently on what I assume will be their nesting cavity. The baby was patient while I took three thousand pictures. I put him in the sling and went outside to get a better view, and I'm pretty happy to have managed a couple of reasonably clear shots. We were pretty far away, and I had a wiggling person attached to my torso, so I can't complain.

These birds are interesting, and rather comical, to watch~ and it felt like an honor. I don't care if that sounds cheesy. We rarely see them, and it's usually a glimpse of red and then they vanish. They're huge, but not terribly confident when it comes to a human audience, so this was a treat~

oh, spring

2009-03-15T22:56:00.003-04:00

So nice to see you again, groovy green growing season.

I think that maybe spring is a better time for resolutions than January 1st. Time to stretch up tall and come out of hibernation. Time to turn our faces to the sun and wiggle our toes in the dirt.

I'm resolving (again, sure, but that's ok) to do more of what's good for me. Not as much of what's easy and comfortable, though there are times when that's inescapably attractive. But I'm shown consistently that certain things, lovely nourishing things that I desperately hide from and have to push myself to do, make my life exponentially better.

Motion and creation. Stepping outside the circle.

When I write, when I play with art supplies, when I move this body that I live in, when I leave home even though it feels like such hard work, good things happen. When I don't, I'm thinking that I should. And this takes more energy than the doing. Avoidance is exhausting. Stretching lets the light in~

grand finale

2009-02-14T16:01:00.007-05:00

This past week was the last regular week that I'll spend with 'my girls'.

The older one is six (we'll call her B, for big sister), and the younger one (L, for little sister) turned three on Thursday. I've spent approximately 5,000 hours with this family. It's mind-boggling if I think about it too much, so I'm just letting myself be happy about the big picture of where I am right now, and brainstorming fun ways to spend the precious two-hour mini-chunks of time I'll be spending with them in the near future.

Wednesday was the last full day that I spent with them, and it was a really good day.

In the morning, B was telling me about this kind of green worm that gets into all of the green foods you eat, and then you eat it without knowing. She was getting more and more animated as she talked about how creepy these worms are and how she didn't want to eat them. Then she went to find the book she'd seen them in, and when we finally found the picture, she was in full drama queen mode.

And I can't blame her: it was a bright green, highly-magnified tapeworm. It looked like a creature from a sci-fi movie, and anything but edible. So we talked about tapeworms for a long time. She asks pretty amazing questions and I tend to be determined to give her the answers she's looking for. We discussed all kinds of things, but I didn't have all the answers. These days, you can find pretty much anything online, but it's too easy to skip all opportunity for human interaction, so I suggested that we call a reference librarian. L is much more social than her sister, and liked the idea, so I dialed and told the librarian that I was handing her over to a three-year-old.

Imagine how much it would make your day if a little bitty voice called and said, "Um, do tapeworms wive in Indiana?"

They talked for a couple of minutes, and when I took the phone back, the librarian relayed the conversation. Tapeworms do live in Indiana, but you don't have to worry about it if you don't eat uncooked meat. She asked if L her mom cooks hamburger before L eats it. Her answer? "No." This cracked us up, and I said, "Well, that's probably because we don't eat hamburgers!" In any case, the girls were very happy to know that they weren't in danger of tapeworm infestation.

With that out of the way, we moved on to Valentine production. We were all sitting at the table with paper and markers and scissors and glue and things were relatively calm. When I heard the dryer buzz, I excused myself and went to rotate the laundry. And when I returned, I saw this:

The girls had scooted their chairs together and B had- with the ONE permanent marker out of the whole bunch- filled in L's lips, eye lids, finger nails, and toe nails, and was starting in on her own manicure and pedicure. She'd also drawn on a bracelet and necklace, but those were luckily done with washable markers.

Preschool Goth.

Sometimes it's nearly impossible to keep a straight face when you most need to. This was one of those times. I just stood there in shock for a minute. Then I had to take pictures, of course. (I wish I could show you the whole deal, but these aren't my children and I don't think their mom would be thrilled if I posted her kids' faces all over the internets. But if you know me in real life and would like to see the photos, let me know. They're hysterical.)

I have to say that I'm pretty impressed that I kept as much of my cool as I did. Once they were both in the tub, I reminded them that there are actual face paints that would be much better for this type of thing... (It mostly came off, but not easily!)

What a way to mark the end of an era! I'll love them forever.

foody weekend

2009-02-12T20:34:00.011-05:00

I've been reading Animal Vegetable Miracle, and it's making me freak out sometimes. There's so much information in that book. Really good stuff, but I'm having to reign myself in and consider what I can realistically do, and what will have to wait. I'm realizing, though, that there's more that I can do than I'd seriously considered.

You know what?

This is going to require its own post in the near future.

For now, I'll just tell you that I made bread this weekend. My gorgeous, hilarious, generous friend Lisa gave me the recipe and the bread flour and the yeast. It was DELICIOUS. Crusty and yeasty and bready. And the hardest part? The math of when to start it so that I'd be home when it finished the first rise and was ready to go into the oven. It had to rise for eighteen hours, then be fiddled with a bit, then another two hours of rising, and then it gets baked in a huge covered pot. And then... then you wish you'd made a double batch. (Which I will next time.)

After I started the bread, I was inspired to bring down my juicer from its lofty hideaway. I had carrots and apples and spinach languishing in the fridge, and I hope that the yumminess of the juice they yielded will remind me to lug out the juicer more often. (Spinach, however, may be better added in the blender after juicing the carrots and apples.)

I also made cheese this weekend, but the pictures aren't pretty. The recipe didn't specify whether the milk had to have a certain fat content, but I should have known. Whole milk would have unquestionably made better-tasting cheese than 1%, but the 1% was on sale and I was pretending to be healthy. Low-fat and organic. The road to bland, rubbery cheese is paved with good intentions.

(I'd also suggest ignoring that you have a microwave, if you do indeed have one. I think it'll come out better with the non-microwave instructions.)

I have so much more to share, but it's suddenly almost ten, and I must turn in... Stay tuned!

creative epiphany

2009-02-01T22:13:00.007-05:00

Ok, this may not sound like epiphany material, but to me it was.

Well, let me start by explaining something you may or may not already know about me:

I have to make stuff. I have to. Some people need to garden or run or cook or whatever, but for me, doing creative projects has always been one of the necessities in life. I'm one of those master of none folks. I like to try things and play and I'm not terribly interested in following patterns and instructions that require math and precision and expertise.

The problem, though, is that I tend to believe that I want to try everything, and even though I don't want to follow rules, there's a part of me that wants to Do Things Correctly. It can be boggling and prohibitive.

The other day, though, I realized that just because I want to try everything doesn't mean that I have to love everything. And more importantly, if I don't love something that I expected to love... I don't have to do it ever again!

This was a marvelous realization. And if I acquire supplies for something that I decide to never do again, someone else will be happy to take those supplies off my hands. Which means (bonus realization) that I don't have to worry so much about being wasteful!

This, along with the wonderful book, Wreck This Journal, by Keri Smith, has freed up some creative energy that had been kind of unfortunately stuck for some time.

Some of the many things I do love: photography, writing, crocheting, playing with raw wool (including dying it, as seen above, and carding it and needle-felting), drawing sketchily, unconventional watercoloring, paper-making, soap-making, baking alone, cooking with friends, sewing badly, mosaics, mixed media collage/painting, container gardening...

A few things it turns out I do not love: rolling felted wool beads, following knitting or crocheting patterns, trying to paint things that look real, being yelled at while baking cookies.

Now I'm really looking forward to finding out what else I do and don't want to do some more of!

(Starting tomorrow. It's past my bedtime.)

light and shadow

2009-01-28T14:36:00.005-05:00

The sweetness that I wrote about recently came quickly and unceremoniously to a halt. All that beauty? A bit smooshed and smudged at the moment. I'm standing knee-deep in sad and mad and confused, trying to keep some healthy perspective. You know how things that you really wanted, things that are shiny and new, can become so quickly mundane? As much as I try not to take my good fortune for granted, the blessings of physical comfort and security can't quite compensate for a bruised heart. It sucks, but it's true.

For some reason, I hesitate to say these things... but I find that telling (and hearing) what is actually true is the best way to go. And today, literally snowed in and stuck with myself, I'm also remembering that the more I can soften towards myself, the softer I feel about everyone and everything else.

open heart

2009-01-22T21:40:00.004-05:00

The things that re-opened my heart today: the new baby, who's bravely smiling and cooing his way through his first cold; the beautiful hawk that sat outside my mechanic's shop and stayed long enough to pose for some great photos; and good friends who love me out loud and hold my heart on good days and bad.

all this beauty*

2009-01-12T20:15:00.004-05:00

I'm in awe of my own life right now. It's a very sweet, very unfamiliar, very tenuous thing.

In the past two days, I've had two important conversations~ one with my best friend and one with my mama. The big theme right now is that I've been asking, whether silently or out loud, for what I actually need and want, and things have fallen into place. I suddenly have a life that I want, that I feel like I've created on purpose.

And the truth is, it's not sudden at all. It's been in the making for a long, long time.

My life hasn't been especially nice. There are amazing people in it, and I've had some wonderful experiences, but it's been punctuated by truly horrific things. I try not to think about it all at once, partly because it's too much, but also because I don't want to be weak or to seem like I'm feeling sorry for myself. I want my life to be good, and I want to be one of the good parts of other people's lives. I've been so afraid of burdening anyone, that I almost never let anyone too far in to the scary, ugly stuff. I sat alone with all of that for years.

But now...

There's a shift happening, one that's so wonderful and so terrifying, with so much momentum that my fear can't hold it back any longer.

And the question is: how do I let it be real? How do I give myself over to the truth that's right in front of me? The truth, the reality that I have what I've asked for... and that yes, it's ok. I'm worthy of it. How do I let it wash over my heart when I know that it could all fall away just as quickly?

Every time I've stumbled back to myself, something extraordinarily painful has happened and I've been sent spinning into the dark. And so now... it seems to be my challenge, and my honor, to step steadily and joyfully into the center of all this beauty, and to let it be my world for as long as it will...

(Lyrics from The Weepies' song, All This Beauty, keep running through my mind today~ All this beauty; you might have to close your eyes, and slowly open wide...)

finding my footing as the year comes to a close

2008-12-30T21:23:00.008-05:00

The title sums it up. That's where I am, in a really good way. Things got pretty whirlwindy for a bit, with moving and the election and the new job. All very good stuff, but I sort of got... lazy? Comfortable? Not having to worry about money or whether the neighbors will be keeping me awake all night, etc. makes things a bit softer around the edges, which is lovely, but now I'm backpedaling, trying to find the new balance point...

I'm absolutely in love with the new baby. I've been sick for a week, so I haven't seen him in a while, but he's perfect. I haven't been quite so smitten with a baby other than my brother and my nephew.

Today is my nephew's fourth birthday! That's him below, last year. He's magic. I miss him so much, but it's fun to talk to him on the phone. On Halloween, I sent a sugar skull and when I was talking to my sister on the phone, he hopped on the line to say, "I wanted to ask you: what is the day of the dead?" I explained, he was satisfied, and that was that. What a munchkin.

I seem to have been adopted by a stray kitty. She comes and goes, but she always shows up again, hungry and thirsty, meowing and honeydoubling, before too long. I've named her Nina von Kugel. Kugel is the German word for ball, and she likes to curl herself up into a ball, like a pillbug.

Other hopeful things are on the horizon, as well. Now I just have to get totally 100% unsick so that I can go out there and play...

Happy, happy 2009 to all!

a very important day!

2008-12-06T01:05:00.004-05:00

Because it's Gareth's birthday!

Let us sing to him.

Happy birthday to yoooooooouuuuuu! Happy birthday tooooooooooooo yooooouuuuu! Happy biiiiirthdaaayyy dear Geeeeeezer! Happy birthday to yooooouuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Hooray! So happy that you exist!

overheard at naptime

2008-12-02T22:09:00.002-05:00

The little chickadee had a hard time going to sleep today. She's a little confused about what it means to be a Big Girl... she's two and a half and just finished potty training, and this is what I heard coming from her room when she was supposed to be sleeping:

(Be sure to imagine a very sleepy, whiny voice when you read the following statements.)

"But it's better to pway at naptime. I can't sweep because I'm a teeeeenager and I don't take naps."

it's official

2008-11-16T22:44:00.005-05:00

I really live here now! I had people over for dinner and we actually sat at a table while we ate. That wasn't an option in my old apartment, and this change makes me very happy.

We all know that the imminent arrival of company is one of the surest ways to get the homestead in order, and that's what it took for me to finish moving in. I wanted to finish, but it just wasn't too pressing until this weekend, which is half of why I invited people over. Or a third of why.

One third motivation; one third that I CAN now; one third Thank You Dinner for the folks that helped me move. It's a good thing I only had three significant helpers, because we were packed in like sardines. My table isn't quite meant for dining, and two of the chairs had to be wiped down and brought in from the patio. Swanky.

We had odd-shaped, tri-color pasta with the best pesto in the world, yummy salad with herbs and my unmeasured, never-exactly-the-same-as-last-time balsamic vinaigrette, and these tomatoes, sort of. I'm a little bit bad about following recipes sometimes, but I don't know that that was the problem here. They were ok, but they didn't turn out as amazingly as I was expecting them to.

For dessert, we had this fondue, which was so good that I now have a sugar headache. We dipped graham crackers, marshmallows, apples, and bananas into it. By golly, the bananas were the best.

And as you can see, I have been using my crock pot a good bit since I kicked things off last week with that soup. I got the soup recipe from the same blog, and I was right! It totally needed more fish sauce. And I probably should have heeded her advice and added some coconut extract, but I was cheap.

The last thing I made this week was apple butter! Oh fer YUM. I want to eat it with a spoon. Again, the crock pot was used, and the recipe came from the Crock Pot Goddess. I'm learning to listen to her wisdom, and I did indeed use less sugar, and it's still extremely sweet. I used apples from my mama's tree, and I think I still have enough for another batch. You want some? I'm serious. You can have some.

The last news before I konk out is this: I have been offered the new nanny position. I am thrilled. Not thrilled about the reality of what this means for my current family- we'll have a gentle, gradual transition over a two-month period, but it will be sad to leave- but I'm thrilled about having a full-time position, thrilled to know that I can afford my life.

Now I must sleep off all of that chocolateymarshmallowey delight. I'ma have a hangover tomorrow.

open letter

2008-11-10T23:12:00.001-05:00

Dear NaBloPoMo,

I quit.

Sincerely, Anna

the baby and the bathwater

2008-11-09T23:24:00.003-05:00

I found my framed copy of this photo in an old box tonight. It's one of my favorites, and one that my nephew will be mortified by in about ten years.

boxes of love

2008-11-08T23:37:00.002-05:00

One of the many lovely things about moving into a larger place is that I'm unpacking things I haven't seen in almost three years. I've been such a mush today, heartily greeting all kinds of little friends as I unwrap them. Some of the best ever ever ever are these:
Handmade for me by my parents decades ago. The bunny is made up of felted wool patchwork and has pink satin-lined pocket ears and a heart on its butt. See?

This is Nemo. Do you know him? These days children think that Nemo is a clown fish, but really he's this guy right here. He's a kid who has wild adventures in his dreams and falls out of bed every night. True to form, my mama gave him a heart pocket.
The babushka puppet probably had an actual name, but I'm sorry to say that I didn't appreciate her then as much as I do now, and I don't remember what she's really called.

My papa (I call my dad 'Papa') made the little bear. It's modeled from a Steiff bear, I'm sure, but it has a metal rod inside that lets you control the head through the tail. It's the YesNoBear, but we always just called it the NoBear, because it's easier to make it shake its head than nod. We'd ask it questions and have very brief conversations together.

The next Extra Super Love-full item is this:
My little brother (who was born when I was 17 and my mom was 46) dictated this message for the tag on his Christmas gift to me several years ago. Inside the box was a little raku pinch pot that he made at school, along with one of his beloved D&D minis.

Can you imagine the swooning when I found this today? Thank you for all your loving joy towards me...?! It's too much! He is too much! (He's 15 now, and the overwhelming LOVE just kills me every time I see him. Cutest boy in town, and still the sweetest.)

And here are some little fellows who are just so charming that I was forced to include them. After those years spent in a box, they deserve a little public adoration.
I wonder what I'll find tomorrow...

thwarted!

2008-11-08T23:33:00.004-05:00

I wrote a very lovey post. It took me a while to get the pictures and text lined up correctly. And now instead of Warm and Fuzzy I am feeling Very Unloving towards blogger. It is being excruciatingly dumb.

ETA: only moments later... I was magically able to post the post!

So the moral of the story, boys and girls, is that you will get what you want if you pout and complain! Awesome!

photo log

2008-11-07T00:00:00.015-05:00

Wednesday morning, everything glowed. I was glowing, the sun was glowing, the trees were glowing. The whole world was lighter and brighter.

We celebrated by making pumpkin muffins.While the muffins cooled, the girls gave me a fabulous hair do.
And then we made clothespin dolls.
Today was nice, too. I used my crockpot for the first time.
And then I went to the first craft night of the season at my lovely friend Martha's house. I have missed her So Very Much. Look at what she's doing to her old corduroy couch:Isn't it fantastic? She's had this couch for ever, and decided that the best thing to do was to love it up with patchwork. I sat on it. And I'd show you what I was working on while I sat there, but I can't. Because it's a gift for a person who looks at this blog. I'll show you once it's been gifted and we can oooh and aaahhhhhh.

I came home and my apartment (the new one that I'm starting to fall in love with) smelled a little bit good. Not as good as I'd dreamed, but sort of yummy and Thai. Sadly, the much-anticipated soup was rather bland. Needs more fish sauce probably.

And now I'm really going to bed!

(Hey, does this count as my post for day seven? Even though it's really not? Surely it could...)

under the wire

2008-11-06T23:35:00.002-05:00

Oh, time. You elusive and slippery teaser, you. It's going on midnight and I'm almost late for NaBloPoMo day six... I keep trying to think of interesting or amusing or inspiring things to post, but I'm distracted. Life is distracting. And I'm sort of flighty, so there's that, too. Flighty in an endearing creative kind of way, but still.

So, I'm posting this and then I'll be back with photos later. (Tomorrow, technically, if you want to get technical about it.) Unless I decide to go to bed.

thankful

2008-11-05T07:01:00.002-05:00

I am so happy. So so so so so so happy.

And I live in a blue state now. Imagine that. This is surreal and so so good.

(But I still have to go to work, so here I go.)

hopeful

2008-11-04T08:34:00.000-05:00

piggyback ride

2008-11-03T21:18:00.004-05:00

Ooooh, look at me. I am deviant a little bit.

It just occurred to me this evening that maybe I could pick up a wireless signal in my new apartment. And it turns out that YES.

I promise to post something interesting this month, but heck if my brain isn't full of moving and elections at the moment.

Tomorrow is a BIG DAY for the world. I'll be in line early.

Hmmmm, let's see... let me find a nice picture for you to look at...

Ah, here we go, nice and autumnal~ apples from my mama's tree. The most delicious apples ever.

Dia de los Muertos

2008-11-02T11:15:00.003-05:00

Today is one of my favorite days. Day of the Dead. I love that it's becoming more known in our culture, and I love the art and rituals that go along with it.

That skull up there is one I made a few years back~ I wish I still had it. I made some this year, but then I got kind of sidetracked...

Anyhow, I'm all crunchy from all the packing and moving, and sitting on the floor hunched over the laptop isn't helping. And of course, since I said I was doing NaBloPoMo, I'm going to be without internet access for a few days. Of course!

Oh well.

I'm too zonked to worry about it.

thus begins NaBloPoMo

2008-11-01T18:38:00.003-04:00

And the move is done! Over the past two days, I had four fabulous helpers at random times, and an hour of professional movers this morning. They were fantastic, and I called the owner today to tell him his guys were awesome. Too often, we only speak up when we're not satisfied with the quality of service, so I think it's really important to make a point of letting folks know when we're happy.

Tonight, I hope to take it easy and go to bed early. I'm beat. And then I'll spend the next two days unpacking and setting up the new place. Hooray. Big, big sigh of relief...

My interview went really well yesterday morning, so I'm feeling hopeful on that front, too.

More tomorrow, thanks to NaBloPoMo... Keep your dials tuned to WAPV, y'all!

it's yer birfday, heidi marie!

2008-10-30T17:49:00.004-04:00

The birthbug of October graciously agreed to help me wish you a happy birthday. Inny cute? So festive and Halloweeny! I hope you're having a lovely day, and I wish you were here so that we could have a floor picnic to celebrate. Love, love, love~

blargh

2008-10-26T16:31:00.002-04:00

Excuse me, but moving is very overwhelming.

happenings are happening

2008-10-23T11:34:00.003-04:00

I walked into the manager's office and said, "I'd like to move!" I told her my ideal situation... and the maintenance folks just happened to be working on just such a place. It had just become available, and I move in next weekend. Almost twice as much space, and quiet... No shared bedroom walls!

I knocked on the noisy neighbor's door and said, "I have good news!" Now we don't shoot daggers at each other any more.

My little apartment was perfect when I moved in~ tiny and cozy, with nice, quiet neighbors. But I'm So Very Ready to move now. I'm looking forward to not feeling cramped, and to sleeping soundly again. I'll have room to have people over! I used to have great parties (great, not crazy) and I've missed being able to do that.

I have an interview the morning that I start moving, and two other applications are awaiting responses...

New apartment, new job (enough money!), and then- please, oh please- new government! These are good developments.

Now, a few things have been back-seated because I'm suddenly moving, but it's ok. My internet also konked out the day I decided to move, so that's annoying. I wanted to do a bunch of Etsy stuff, but it'll just happen more slowly. Actually, here I go to post a few things right now~

changing with the season

2008-10-19T15:59:00.003-04:00

I think this is the fourth time I've changed the layout of this blog. I think that it helps me to shift gears outwardly... I keep trying different ways of pulling myself back, continuing to write without expectation.

(NaBloPoMo is starting again soon, and I'm planning to give it another whirl. I have a page in one of my notebooks with a long list of blog post ideas that have somehow never made it onto the virtual page.)

As we're transitioning into fall (lovely, glorious fall!) I'm actively seeking a transition in my work life and home life. I applied for a job a few weeks ago, and found myself more than a little bit disappointed when I wasn't offered the position. It seemed so perfect.

And it also made me realize that what I'm really craving right now is stability. Clarity. Security. I want to know that I'll be able to pay my bills every month. I want to know what to expect a little more than I do right now. I've decided not to renew my NAPO (National Association of Professional Organizers) membership, and I'm looking for full-time work. One job. The younger of the two girls I take care of will start preschool next August, which suddenly seems extremely soon, since at that point I'll no longer have a job. And as much as I love working as a post-partum doula, I just can't rely on it. I haven't had a doula client in two months.

So, I'm keeping my eyes and ears open, applying for things... I'm also going to be adding more to my etsy shop now that the summer art fairs are done. I have tons of cards and 8x10 prints and jewelry that need homes, and will be making more goodies all the time.

The other change I'm really ready for is a change in my living situation. This little apartment was perfect when I moved in just over two years ago. I loved the smallness, but now it feels cramped every single day. And I had quiet, friendly neighbors, and that's no longer the case, either. Now I wonder as I fall asleep, just how long I'll get to snooze before I'm rudely woken up. I need a little more space and a little more peace...

Now I'm going to work on etsy stuff! Lots of photos to take and edit for the listings. Happy trails to me! And to you. :)

don't leave home without it

2008-10-12T13:01:00.003-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, I was cramming myself into my car, carrying too much stuff. One of the stuffs was a coffee cup, a coffee cup which is not my usual green travel mug with the snap-shut lid... which led to my forgetting that one of the many things in my arms contained hot, spillable liquid... which led to actual spilling of hot liquid. All over me and my car and my bag.

Now don't worry about my arm skin! It's fine. The real tragedy is the bag. Covered in coffee, and they won't dry clean it, and it was the only bag that I can nicely fit all of my essentials into. I had a system, and it was built around the central and most essential feature: my camera. I can't go anywhere without my camera.

Today I had breakfast with my Papa, who is in town for a visit, and while I did bring my camera, I left it in the car. It's awkward to be carrying two bags, and I thought that I probably wouldn't need to take any pictures in the cafe. After all, I had my camera with me all day yesterday at the Farmer's Market art fair and didn't use it. I decided to push my boundaries and experiment with not having it readily available.

Of course, then my ginger peach tea dripped down into the saucer and made a Moomin. So I had to go back out to the car to get the camera and document the cuteness. Voila!

P.S. Best thing ever.

P.P.S. What can't *you* leave home without?

it's all about perspective

2008-09-24T08:40:00.004-04:00

I'm a tired girl. I wear myself out! And sometimes, like the past two days and nights, my darling little monster charges wear me out. Scenes like the one to your left are the best good parts of my job. And so I'm trying to focus on those.

Yesterday, I had the best little snippet of a conversation with the 2 1/2 year old. It went like this:

"When I gwo up to be a person? When I be a mom? What will my mom and dad be?"

"Well, they'll still be your mom and dad, but they'll also be your kids' grandma and grandpa."

"... and I'll wear tap shoes!"

amazing

2008-09-20T17:15:00.001-04:00

Do watch this~

(And if you know how I can embed it here directly, will you tell me?)

I have been tagged!

2008-08-22T13:54:00.008-04:00

Ok. It's funny about tagging. I want it, because I like the love, and then I'm all, OhCrapWhoCanITagNow? But that's ok, because what the heck. The wonderful and endearing Esme has bestowed upon me the gift of Solicited Sharing of Random Personal Information.

Officially:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post these six rules on your blog.
3. Write 6 random things about yourself.
4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is posted.

Two down.

So now for the six random things.

1. I'm a huge winger of things. Haven't made sushi since that one time in 1997? Wing it! Even if it falls apart, it has SEAWEED in it! Haven't been in the back of a canoe since Challenger's Day Camp, circa 1985? Just tell your paddling partner that you're an excellent steerer, and then figure it out in the middle of the lake! What? You're spinning the canoe in circles? No worries! You'll get to shore eventually! Winging things is where it's at.

2. I'm squeamish. (I have scars to prove it. Scars from passing out.) And if I wasn't, I'd probably have a job that paid the bills. I might be a pediatrician or an obstetrician or something. Once in a while, some rather Neanderthal part of my brain gets fired up and I have a moment of being able to do something really gross and cool, like gutting a fish. But usually I'm more likely to be found talking to plants, or telling small children to please not smoosh the bugs.

3. My first diary was navy blue, with a silver unicorn embossed on the front cover. I bought it when I was eight*. The first entry says this: Dear Diary, I bought you because I love unacorns! Also because I think it will be neat to have a diary of my own! Love Anna I had crossed out the a in unacorns and fixed the spelling error. And the exclamation point had a little heart instead of a dot. At some point, I decided that my diary should have a name, which I thought would make it seem like I was writing letters to a friend. I named her Laramie. Lare for short. I got the name from Michael White's song, Moonrise on the Prairie. I could probably still sing it by heart. Am I already at six random things yet? Probably, but you sill get (at least!) three more. Lucky day!

4. *Every time I think of something that happened when I was a kid, I think that it happened when I was eight. Of course, some things really did happen that particular year, but it's actually a Mathematical Psychology thing. I lived in the Campbell House on Kirkwood for seven years when I was growing up. And eight is the average of the ages that I was during that time.

5. I often like the ideas of things much more than the reality of them.

6. I'm a small amount OCD. Sometimes it serves me well. (Some people pay me to be OCD.) And sometimes it's really annoying. (To me and to the people whose sugar dish I keep moving back to the edge of where the counter meets the wall. Or whose stuff I Must Label, even though they already know that those are mustard seeds and they are not going to forget that those are mustard seeds.)

There you have it!

And now for the hard part: Tagging Others. How about, because I like them:

Keely
Jennifer
Alexandra
Sara
Heidi
Beth

Ladies, you can play along or not. I'm just being a sheep. Feel no pressure! (But it's sort of fun. I like sheep.)

Happy weekend, my dears!

spaghetti painting!

2008-07-17T12:46:00.012-04:00

I don't remember where I saw this idea, but for literally years, I've wanted to try spaghetti painting. Vats of color, a big old wall, and blobs of cooked noodles. It's a very Patch Adams kind of endeavor. (That can wait for another post, though.)

So. My boyfriend bought an old house in May, and every room will eventually be redone. The trim is being pried from windows and doorways, walls knocked out... It's very cool. And since I knew that the wall in the "living room" would no longer exist in a couple of months, I presented this idea, with very little actual hope of being allowed to fling paint and pasta all over the place.

Sometimes, though! Sometimes we CAN have our way.

He didn't seem surprised, even, and the plans were instantly in the works. The best part is that when his friends delivered a couch last week, he said, "Well, I guess we'll need to cover the couch with something when we paint." I was puzzled, and explained that I was only going to be flinging things at two walls. He thought that I was going to be flinging things all over the entire room. And he was going to let me!

Ok. So, up there is the wall Before. With a plastic tablecloth to somewhat protect the floor. (Which is also going to be ripped up.)

And then:

Lots of cheap paint, old spinach containers, and a bucket full of spaghetti.

And then the craziness!

My stepmom was the only one who was quite as giddy as me about the whole thing.

But my dad was the funniest thing I'd ever seen.

We found out that small amounts of spaghetti and large amounts of paint, tossed gently rather than flung maniacally, create the most effective, um, effect.

And then you should really get your hands and feet into it.

I highly recommend that you plan such an afternoon yourself.

do try this at home

2008-06-07T19:24:00.007-04:00

I've been playing around today, finding endless inspiration online, and had to share one particular tidbit:

I wandered over to this blog (lovely writing and images) from this blog (an 'old' favorite) and discovered this (groovy photo editing tool)! I used it to make some of my photos even cooler.

Here are some of the images I altered:

The site is written mostly in an Asian font, so it's beautiful, but unreadable. You just select an image from your files, and then click on the button under the image link bar... and in a few seconds (longer depending on file size) you'll have a very different photo that you can copy into your desktop folder. Woo! Go forth and play!

handle with care

2008-05-25T10:44:00.003-04:00

Last night I went to see my friend Nell's improv show~ if you live in Bloomington, you should really treat yourself next weekend. She's amazing and honest and wild and rare.

I've known Nell since I was a little girl~ she and my mom were friends for years, and one of the YouTube clips linked on her site is an improv piece about my brother's birth.

(In related news, my brother graduated from Harmony middle school yesterday~ he's so extremely awesome. His graduation project centered around family recipes and he created a cookbook. It's perfect and funny. More about that soon.)

So, last night's performance was wonderful. If I had lots of money, I'd go to every one of her shows, because they're all different and unpredictable. Last night's theme was basically sex. Good theme. And because sex isn't really just about sex, there were all kinds of layers within the piece...

At one point, she was talking about her wedding day, about going to a fancy salon to have her hair done. The stylist was edgy and rough with her and after she'd not-very-gently washed her hair, Nell handed her a twenty and walked out. In the piece, she said, "I can't be handled on my wedding day." And a few minutes later~ "I cannot be handled this LIFE!"

And of everything that touched me or made me laugh or catch my breath, THAT was the thing that stayed with me the most last night.

I cannot be handled this life.

I've been feeling handled, handled poorly and carelessly- and I haven't known what to do with it. I have to wonder what it is about me that tells certain people that they can treat me that way, but I need to find a way to turn it around, to say wait a minute... It's not OK to push me around or talk to me like I'm stupid.

How do I make this clear without stepping over the same boundaries?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The other day at work, I propped the front door open.

The air was so clear and I wanted a cross-breeze whooshing through the house, so I opened the door wide. Miss K, two-years-old, was upstairs sleeping. Miss Z was at school, last day before summer. And I was in the kitchen, cleaning up old messes and making new ones~ and I heard a sound. A little tappity-bump.

Two little house finches had flown in together and were trying to convince the dining room window to let them out. I said quiet little somethings and walked very slowly toward them, frantic wings and eyes. One doubled back and flew away, right back out the front door. But the other stayed pressed to the glass pane, wing outstretched, eye on me. And then I was reaching out, scooping up her little feathered body, talking softly, and she let me.

I held her and walked slowly to the door, talking the whole time~ she didn't try to get away. She looked at me with her head cocked, but she was still. I could feel her little heart beating so fast against my palm. And then I let her go, and closed the door.

That's how I want to be handled, too. And I know that the world won't always cooperate, but I can keep those moments close to heart and try to be more clear, kindly so, about what I'll accept...

watermelon!

2008-04-20T11:48:00.006-04:00

Hopefully this will work...

Clicky click!

I love it. (It reminds me of one of my favorite Poi Dog Pondering songs, aptly named... The Watermelon Song.)

Enjoy!

angel

2008-04-13T15:45:00.004-04:00

I started going to the local UU about four years ago. My main distraction in life was, as usual, that I wanted to meet someone, but I decided that maybe what I really needed was something much bigger. So I decided to go to church. The least churchy church I could find.

For the longest time, I'd cry during every service. Something always got me right where it needed to, and I loved going and sitting alone and crying. And after a while, the crying pretty much stopped. It started to feel too political in there, and I'd find myself looking out the big, circular window in the front of the room, watching clouds and birds and planes pass by.

Every few weeks, the calendar and newsletter arrive in my mailbox, and I look to see what's scheduled, who's speaking, etc. Sometimes I'm intrigued and I make a point of showing up~ like this morning. Today the teenagers did the service. I couldn't miss that. And I'm glad I didn't.

They were so freaking cool and wise and funny and thoughtful and confident and humble and questioning and awesome. One of them, wearing a black hoodie and half-hiding behind the swoop of his bangs, led us in a meditation from Thich Nhat Hanh. As we started, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes...

And there was an angel there, just hanging out behind my eyelids.

You know how you see the negative silhouettes of things when you close your eyes? It was like that, but it was totally an angel. When I opened my eyes afterward, I tried to figure out what would have made that impression on my eyeballs, but the only part I could figure out was the head. But I don't even care! I don't want it to make perfect sense. I just want to hold that image for a while~

so many weeks

2008-03-30T17:12:00.004-04:00

It's been more than two months since I posted! Yikes, I think. Every time I'm online, I'm in a hurry, or at work and technically not allowed to do anything non-work-related. Yep, I'm now another person's part-time employee. And still 20 hours of nannying, and lots of 2-hour slots of time are filled in with organizing and doula clients, and then I do my extracurriculars whenever I can squeeze them in. It's kind of crazy~ I go for weeks without grocery shopping...

Today I'm so exhausted and over-extended that I went to the store without my shopping list. Before that, I went to the laundromat without my laundry soap. And while I was there, my back went into spasm. And now I'm supposed to be preparing the presentation that I have to give on Tuesday morning, but that's the last thing I want to think about! I want to be on vacation.

Yesterday was a fun thing, actually. I had a table at the Luna Expo~ promoting my organizing and doula stuff, and selling my cards and jewelry. People bought stuff! And I found out this week that I got a spot at the Fair of the Arts that happens once a month in conjunction with the Farmer's Market. I'm sharing the space with a friend, and we'll be there May 10th, August 9th, and October 11th. I know that most of you don't live around here, but if you do, swing by and say howdy!

A funny thing from the grocery store today~
I was walking past the land of ice cream and I thought that the label on one of the containers said Double Chin. It actually said Double Churn, but HA. Funny funny.

Well, I suppose it's time I went and did responsible things some more. Happy whatever, everybodies!

hello, strangers

2008-01-21T11:26:00.000-05:00

Life is other-worldly without the constant Internet service. I feel like I've lost everyone in my former cyber-world, but I might be adjusting. Maybe...

The past couple of weeks have been full of adjusting, really. As it turns out, I have Noisy New Nocturnal Neighbors. I had to rearrange my bedroom and bring out the white noise machine. After being woken up in the middle of the night for two weeks, I'm finally sleeping again. I like sleeping.

People have been amazing me with their inconsiderateness lately. Somehow I've been inundated all at once with inconsiderate people. It baffles.

And then there's Jazzercise. Oh! How silly I feel! And it's also fun. And I think my heart is happy. Part of the program involves keeping a food journal. It's weird. When I add everything up at the end of the day, I tend to find that I'm not eating enough. Cool, but again, weird.

I'm feeling so rushed that I don't even know what to tell you about. I have to leave in a few minutes to pick up my little chickadee and take her home for her nap. But how about this~ this poem keeps coming up, one of my favorites. I'll leave you with its sweetness.

The Dream Keeper

by Langston Hughes

Bring me all of your dreams, you dreamers

Bring me all of your heart-melodies

That I may wrap them in a blue cloud-cloth

Away from the too-rough fingers of the world.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

P.S. Pictured above is my pal Toothy. He's bossy and loud and I LOVE him.

in chapters

2008-01-03T16:04:00.000-05:00

Chapter 1: Disconnected

My neighbor moved out a few days ago. I wanted her not to~ I like knowing someone good is right next door. And then the aftershock... I finally know where I was getting my free wireless service. Oh, woe, I have it no mo.

At first I freaked out and kind of laughed maniacally for a few minutes. Then I tried to convince myself that it would be a blessing in disguise. Then I thought I just wouldn't be able to live. If I had a desk job and access at work during the day, I'd be fine. But this is very jarring.

So, until I discover whether my new neighbor will be unknowingly hooking me up, I'm schlepping my laptop to wireless hot-spots when I can. And it's not much. Until further notice, I'm only around sporadically, and for short periods of time. I'm guessing that I won't be commenting much, but I'll be reading y'all every chance I get.

At the moment, I'm freezing my stems off, sitting right by the door at the Bakehouse...

Chapter 2: Happy New Year!

New Year's Eve was really fun. I made the fantactickest salad! And one of my dinner cronies made very delicious and drinkable pomegranate martinis. Dinner and games and silliness and burning things. Since the majority of our small group had no one to kiss at the fateful midnight hour, we instead went outside and burned pieces of paper on which we'd written the things we'd like to be without in the year ahead.

I wore my awesome and Seussical outfit pictured in the last post~ much better in reality for a party than for embarrassing my teenage brother. Which leads me to...

Chapter 3: The Girlfriend

I did indeed meet my little brother's girlfriend. This is big, people! He's only 14. This is his first love. I remember my first love, and I remember how much it felt like the total center of the universe, like no one else could have ever felt like I did, no one could possibly understand.

I wore normal clothing and behaved relatively well. She's adorable. They are adorable. I want to make them matching hats.

Speaking of which...

Chapter 4: Obsessed

I had this gift card. It looked like a credit card. I could have used it anywhere. Like maybe to buy groceries. But I went to the craft store. And now my gift card has been obliterated, and I have a new obsession.

Dunt-da-dah! Meet the Knifty Knitter, y'all!

I may finally use up all the yarn I've had stashed away forever. All I pretty much want to do is use these silly things and make scarves and hats for yet-unknown recipients. I have another project I'm supposed to be working on, but I'm so intimidated by it. The Knifty Knitter is anything but intimidating. It makes me feel so very competent.

Chapter 5: I Resolve

It is, after all, a new year. And while I'm more a fan of the New Day or New Moment Resolution, I do have some intentions. The really great and scary and exciting thing is that I have other people intending with me.

You know how we're frighteningly overrun with reality shows? And how there's that one called The Biggest Loser. I kind of hate it all. But there's something similar happening here~ some health/exercise/life coaching folks are working with a group of folks, offering free classes and coaching and stuff. I applied and didn't get officially chosen, but they decided to expand their plans and I'm part of the second group they're going to work with. This is truly the most wonderful and terrifying thing.

Basically, I'll go to Jazzercise (cease to snicker, please!) and meet with a weight loss coach (someone I've known for most of my life and have wanted to see, but can't afford) and there's support and accountability, which are key. Six free months, and gifts at the end. I am on my way, folks.

My biggest hope is that this will help me to create some rhythm in my life and to live more intentionally. I've been so blanketed by fear for so many years, and it gets in my way all the time, in every area of my life...

Chapter 6: The Yessing and The K(no)wing

In church this past Sunday, we did cool things. The reverend (Bill Breeden!) read something from Wendell Berry, the gist of which was to think about what you're saying yes to. He talked a little bit about it, then turned the mic over to the rest of us~ people stood up and shared what they want to say yes to in the new year. Then we wrote down things we want to say no to~ we impaled the pieces of paper on long nails stuck into cross-sections of fallen logs. After the service, we went outside and burned the papers and they curled as they burned, creating ashen roses.

(That was the inspiration for the burning ritual we did at midnight as '07 became '08.)

I think it's a great and simple way to consider the little decisions we so often make without much thought. I've been thinking a lot about my yesses and nos this week. I even threw away a pair of holey underwear. No to falling apart clothes, see?

What do you want to say yes and no to?

Chapter 7: Again I Disappear

I've been sitting here freezing and taking up space for quite a while now. I'll be back as soon as I can, and I'll tell you about purses full of muffins and nipples that are not and photo cards that are.

Love and light to all~

now for the slowing down...

2007-12-28T00:51:00.001-05:00

Finally home! I love being home. But I can't go to bed~ too much buzzing around in my head...

This tends to be the situation when I get home from just about anywhere in the evening: it takes me an inordinate amount of time to settle in and wind down before I can put myself to bed. It doesn't matter that I'm exhausted or that I have a full day of work tomorrow or any of that. I just get all zoomy and wired and have to ride it out.

It's been an interesting day. That's for sure. Yesterday was great, Christmas was great. Today was sometimes good...ish... in a kind of a way. Sometimes kind of harder than I would have liked. Such is life, eh? Pretty great and pretty hard, at random intervals, without warning, woohoo!

All in all, I'm a lucky girl. I try my darndest to remember that.

In other news:

My brother would not love me to say this to the Internets, but he has a girlfriend, and I get to meet her next week. I'm looking forward to it, but I don't think he trusts me not to embarrass him.

I told him I was going to show up like this:

His response was to uninvite me. But I thought I looked pretty awesome. My up-do and my giant green earrings that you can't see in the picture make the ensemble truly and fabulously complete.

Ok, now I'm going to try to unwind the rest of the way and get a few winks before the fast-approaching rising of the sun...

merry christmas

2007-12-24T17:10:00.000-05:00

Happy everything to everyone!

I'm off to the magical Christmas Eve service at the UU~ I've been looking forward to it for a couple of weeks already. :)

Wishing you all rest and love and communion and joy~

return of the balloon head

2007-12-15T17:01:00.000-05:00

Two whole weeks with that whiny old post sitting at the top of the page. Sorry for that.

My trip to Colorado, mercifully, went by quickly. Not too quickly, though, for me to contract a wholloping sinus infection. I was so glad to be home, and have slept copiously over the past three days. Really, I could go to bed some more right now.

I have to say that Colorado was stunning. Such an odd thing to spend a positively mind-numbing week in such beautiful surroundings. Flying over the Colorado Rockies, I was amazed to find myself breathless, not just because of the gorgeousness, but also because of the newness. This country is so huge. There's so much to see...

I don't regret going on the trip, but it's not something I'd volunteer to do again. Unless there were things to do with a toddler, anyhow. An indoor playground or pool would have been much appreciated. As it was, there were three outdoor pools, two feet of snow, and lots of running up and down corridors and riding up and down elevators...

The most beautiful day was luckily the same day that I got a little break to go out and take pictures, some of which are posted on my Flickr page. And a very serendipitous thing happened during the birthday party we had for Z. She'll be five on Monday, but there was a party there in Snowmass, since everyone was together. We had the upstairs room of a little restaurant mostly to ourselves, save for one father and daughter at a table behind us. As it turned out the girl will be turning 11 on the same day that Z turns five~ magic! She and her father stayed for cake and ice cream and it made the whole night better for everyone.

Aside from trying to get well, I'm trying to get ready for Christmas, which seems sooner than possible. Today I decided that I'm going to skip my usual sending of photo-illustrated Christmas letters. I'm not sure what I'd say about this year, anyhow. Goodness.

I really enjoyed Jennifer's post about getting ready for Christmas, and I'm trying to ride that same wave...

I hope you're all well~ more soon.

the end

2007-11-30T22:20:00.000-05:00

Good riddance, NaBloPoMo! I have failed you. You asked too much of me. Fie.

I think I also expected too much in return. And I think that expectations are tricky things~ sometimes they're just necessary, and other times they screw things up. I wanted to be all wondrous, posting mesmerizing entries every day and making connections with more folks in the blogging world. I thought for sure that Pogo would inspire love, and even his fuzzy little snout failed to do any such thing.

I feel lonely here at the moment. I've read other bloggers' posts about this topic, and am only mustering the chutzpah to be honest about it because others have been honest before me. But, anyhow, yes, I'm feeling needy and neglected, which probably calls for a bit of deeper delving...

Other than that, I met with a new client today and felt very good about that. I've actually met about five people today who I'd like to know better. I imagine that there's some unwritten rule about not socializing with clients until after the project is finished, but it's nice to meet new people in this town where I sometimes feel like I already know everyone. Truthfully, I have a richer, fuller social circle than I ever have before, and it's sometimes challenging to keep up with the lovely friends I already have, but there are just so many magical folks around... I met some others at a birthday dinner tonight, and we're going to get together so I can teach them to knit and crochet and have a cozy little yarn party in my tiny little nest.

Another friend has started to have weekly craft nights at her house, and I went last night with a project that needed to be finished up and a project that needed a jump-start. Success! One finished, one started, and the people there were wonderful, too.

I also got mah hair did today. By a new person, and I really like her and I really like what she did to my hairs. After leaving the salon, I took my cute self shopping for Christmas gifts. I'm buying less this year, but I really love giving gifts, so it's not something I want to do less of, it's just necessary because of my current financial state. I love making gifts, too, but that still requires supplies, and TIME, and I leave for Colorado in less than a week. And then it'll be family visits and Christmas and New Year almost all at once! Oh, 2007, where hast thou gone?

meet pogo

2007-11-27T22:03:00.000-05:00

When I was growing up, we had some unconventional pets in our house. We had rodents: mice, gerbils, briefly a guinea pig. My sister's little gray mouse was named Fuzzy, and he was in the circus. We all were~ I was a trampoline and trapeze diva, my sister was a clown, and Fuzzy was her sidekick. He walked a tightrope and dazzled the masses without fail. It's true life! Before the High Flyers became serious, famous performers~ our very own Cirque du Soleil~ they put on a very home-grown show in the ringleader's back yard, and we were stars.

We had a juvenile delinquent crow named Binky for about two days~ he was messy and loud and fond of mulberries. He had to go elsewhere. We had a squirrel named Hickory~ our dog, Zipper, found baby Hickory in the woods on campus after a storm, and when my dad went to investigate, a teensy lost critter ran right up the leg of his corduroy pants. Hickory let all of us hold him when he was small, but pretty soon my dad was the only one who could handle him. He had his own little room, with branches and things, and my dad would hide food for him to forage. We thought he had epilepsy, but it turned out to be a case of Too Many Sunflower Seeds.

We had parakeets and newts and rabbits and toads. But mostly we had Pogo. Lucky Pogo Possum Guy. Someone found him in the road, a tiny little bean of a thing, separated from his marsupial mama~ she knew that we had fostered Hickory, so she brought us the wee lonely possum. He was my favorite. Unlike Hickory, he never unfriended me. He would fall asleep cupped in my hands, with his nose tucked in. He smelled like dog paws, which smell like corn chips. And he had those fabulous animal instincts that told him to act scary if need be~ I'd reach into his nest to scoop him up and he'd turn around and make his most frightening open-mouthed possum face... until he smelled that I was me, his friend, and then he would waddle up my arm, sit on my shoulder, and snuffle his nose in my ear.

I was so sad when we had to let him go. We had to let a real rehabber teach him about the great outdoors before he got too big, but I wanted to keep him forever. He was the Opossum O'Love and I'm glad my hippie parents let him stay with us for a while~

getting bettah

2007-11-26T22:15:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving was great~ the trip was actually better than any of us expected, despite the wind and rain and squeaky windshield wipers and people being sick and swapping lots of little airborne buggaboos.

I hope everyone had fun like me! I got to act like a goober with my sister and her sister-in-law (who is a good friend of mine) and spend time with my astoundingly awesome almost-three-year-old nephew and eat good food and swim in the hotel pool and sit in the really powerful hot tub and then jump back into the pool, which made us more understanding of the crazy Polar Bear Club folks. It feels really, really good.

And I'm supposed to be asleep now so that I can get up at 5:30 in the morning and also because I'm still not quite unsick, so I'll just give you this assignment and get ready for bed. (Do you notice a pattern? Of me not being in bed on time?) Ok, in the spirit of flu season and Getting Enough Vitamin C, I assign you to make and drink this very perfect stuff:

Lemon, Ginger, and Honey!

Boil about an inch of fresh ginger root in maybe two cups of water for probably five minutes or something. (This is not science.) Squeeze a lemon. Mix the lemon juice with the ginger water in your favorite giant mug. Now empty the contents of your honey bear into the mug. Breathe it and sip it until it reaches the perfect guzzling temperature and then guzzle. So, so good!

the 19th...

2007-11-19T20:27:00.000-05:00

Last night I forgot to post. I'm still sick, coughing like a smoker, with the gravelly bedroom voice and all. Tomorrow we head to Minnesota for Thanksgiving. It's not likely that I'll be able to post until I'm back~ so much for NaBloPoMo. I don't really mind, though. As with most things that I enjoy, as soon as it became an obligation, it wasn't so fun anymore. I've been wondering how my NaNoWriMo friends are doing... and now I almost think that would be a better project. Not so public. More room for sounding really dull.

I'm sort of ok, really. Hormonal and ill and stressed out, but ok. Tuning in to the light and the shadow, trying to allow more gently for the latter to have its place. S'pose I'll share this little Langston Hughes poem and go to bed~

Gather out of star-dust

Earth-dust,

Cloud-dust,

Storm-dust,

And splinters of hail,

One handful of dream-dust

Not for sale.

day seventeen

2007-11-17T22:57:00.000-05:00

Down to the wire almost, and I got nothin'. But thanks to Miss Heidi, here's something fun for you to play with. Now, play!

instant gratification!

2007-11-16T23:49:00.001-05:00

I did it! I am now a juicer user! Look at the color of this stuff. That is all.

to float away

2007-11-16T22:18:00.000-05:00

I'm having a bout of the Vagabond Blues, the Getmeouttaheres, Whiny Whiner Syndrome. I want to run away from everything, or maybe to be rescued. Yikes. I don't like it. But it's a pretty frequent feeling for me, nothing unusual, sadly, at all.

I have a recording of a speech that Jack Canfield gave last year. (He may be best known as the Chicken Soup for the Soul guy, but he's involved in all kinds of other stuff, including The Secret.) Anyhow, I think the speech is really great, and different things come back to me from time to time. Lately, it's the part where he talks about joy. I don't remember exactly what he said (the CD is currently on loan to a friend) but it's basically the idea that you can gauge the rightness of where you are by the level of joy in your life. If the joy is missing, something is out of line.

I'm mostly not feeling the joy. And I feel like I don't have time to go looking for it, whatever that would entail. And that's because I'm so scared about money. And that's so crappy!

I don't want to sound like a hypocrite or a split-personality or whatever~ with my happy "get to" philosophy right next to my hand-wringing, money-stumped, shakin'-in-my-boots joylessness. These are both very real parts of my humanness, the light and the shadow, and I'm just muddling along and trying to shift the balance and find the best answers for me.

In other news, not unrelated, I have made it to baby-step four with my juicer. I've owned the thing for two or three years, but hadn't even taken it out of the box until today. A long (LONG) time ago, I opened the box and set the accompanying audio tape by the stereo and read part of the recipe booklet. Last month, I pulled the box out from under the sink, listened to the tape and looked at the recipe booklet again and read part of the instruction manual. The box has been sitting out in the open since then, so that I see it every day. And today, today I took it OUT OF THE BOX and washed the washable parts and learned how it goes together and comes apart.

I have carrots, an apple, and some ginger root. I'm going to juice them. Right now! Maybe it will get the joy beans jumpin'...

the random

2007-11-15T20:21:00.000-05:00

I am sick. I think I've been pushing myself too hard recently and that, combined with general stress and the fact that all four children I take care of are sick, has finally taken its toll. I am steamrollered. I am squashed. I am under this cold, cold, blustery weather.

But look at that -----------------------------^

I didn't make it today, but it makes me happy to see it today. I'm inordinately proud of it. As you can see, if you read the fine print, it was inspired by a page out of the Klutz Hand Art book. See? His trunk is my thumb, and the bumpity belly ruffles are my knuckles. And doesn't he look just like a Blue Meanie? Yes!

What else? Well, I've (sort of) made it half-way through NaBloPoMo now. And, oh, here's something I wanted to say:

THANK YOU!

Thank you to the lovely commenters who say nice things and let me know that they (you) hear me. When I had my Livejournal blog, there was a convenient little button that allowed me to reply directly to each individual comment in a nice little format. I miss that button, and I don't respond directly as much as I used to. But I want to be sure that you know I'm appreciating you and not ignoring you in my heart, not one bit.

Now, I have to tell you the thing that I did today that was very unlike most days: I scolded someone. Ok, that might not be unusual. But I scolded an ADULT. An adult STRANGER. I had to.

I was behind his great big SUV in traffic and noticed that there was a child, maybe seven-years-old or so, standing up in the back seat. We were at a red light, but when the light turned green, he didn't sit down. He was walking back and forth and the guy was just driving along... and talking on his cell phone. At the next light, I ended up next to him and motioned and rolled down my window and hollered that I was concerned because I saw that he was talking on the phone and driving while his child was walking around in the back seat. I don't know if he really quite heard me. The light changed and we drove away. But I couldn't believe it. It makes me crazy when I see people acting all invincible and putting children's safety in jeopardy. So, I said something. Eeeek.

Now I'm going back to the couch. I've cancelled everything for the next three days so that I can be well for next week. Next week is going to be manic, and I need to be strong like ox.

where I'm from

2007-11-14T23:26:00.000-05:00

Tonight was the awe-inspiring public read-around that my writing class holds each semester. I feel so blessed to be part of that group! And I think I'll just go ahead and share the piece that I read tonight. It's an unaltered fast write that I did in class, and the form is based on a poem by George Ella Lyon.

************************************************************

I am from a welcoming womb.

From a dome in the woods in Virginia.

I am from the gooseberry bushes that always took too long to ripen.

I am from the gravel path, meandering from the barn to the pond to the cottage to the mansion and back, dotted with chamomile buds.

I am from a cardboard box, with a window cut out and a crystal in the doorway.

I am from the red brick house in the center of town, with the farmer’s market bustling in the backyard each Saturday morning, and the library two doors down, the library that was always open.

I am from choose your own adventure, girls who could fly, and girls who died, keeping my mother in tears on the old red couch.

I am from the bottom row, second aisle on the right- the boxes of penny candy in the Kirkwood Pharmacy.

I am from pink sweatsuits, hand-me-downs, shimmery feathery earrings, and K-Mart boots.

I am from a nest in a tree in a storm. Falling, falling, eyes barely open, snuffling black nose, suddenly safe.

I am from a parking lot in the dark, his father’s winter studio, a car parked carelessly sideways.

I am from words written large in the sand and sung loudly into the wind.

change your perspective...

2007-11-13T21:18:00.000-05:00

I'm exhausted. I'm constantly stressed out about money and all its cronies. And yet, I ate medjool dates today, and played outside with munchkins.

The simple thing is this: whenever you (I) find yourself (myself) feeling overwhlemed and overrun, complaining about all the things that you (I) have to do~

Change that "have to" to "get to."

I have to go to work.

I get to go to work. I get to talk to almost-five-year-olds about the golden retrievers they dream of. Today she told me that when she's eight and her sister is five, they'll get a golden retriever. When I asked her what she would name her dog, she thought for a minute and said, "Maybe... LOVE. Or maybe Anna!"

I have to clean my kitchen.

I get to clean my kitchen. I have a kitchen to clean! I have hot running water, dishes to dirty, food with which to dirty them. I remember a cafe in Oaxaca, Mexico where the kitchen was about a third of the size of mine, and my kitchen is pretty tiny by American standards.

It works for anything, really. We forget how fortunate we are, and even though happiness is relative, there's always value in gratitude and sharp focus.

And I'm grateful for the children who drive me nuts and poop in the bathtub and clobber each other when they're tired and hungry. Because they also snuggle and laugh and create and act silly with me.

I'm grateful for the mess in my kitchen, because someone loaned me a small appliance today so that I could make something delicious for an equally delicious gathering that will happen tomorrow evening. And here is the recipe, so that you can have a messy kitchen, a happy belly, and a grateful heart right beside me and mine.

*Raw Fudge

1.5 cups raw walnuts
12 fresh medjool dates (take the pits out! and do not skimp! sub-par dates will kill your fudge.)
a dash of salt
1/3 cup unsweetened (organic if possible) cocoa powder
1 tsp. vanilla
2 tsp. water, if needed
1/2 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut

You just mix each thing in the food processor in this order, adding as you go. It sort of balls up eventually and you can just smoosh it around with a spoon. You can play with ingredients~ leave out the coconut if you're not a fan, try a bit of almond or cherry extract... And when it's all nice and mixed up, blob it into a shallow container and smooth it out. Maybe 1/2-1 inch thick is good. Let it sit in the fridge and then cut it into squares. It's easier to cut and arrange the pieces if it's cold, but tastes best if it warms up a bit before you eat it.

Yum! You get to eat healthy fudge!

And I get to go to bed.

like Attila the Hun with a cinnamon bun

2007-11-11T22:39:00.000-05:00

It's just that I'm tired and this NaBloPoMo thing is getting on my nerves. Tomorrow there won't be so much as a blip. Not a quote, not a Nellie McKay lyric, not a photo of a chocolate-covered Brazil nut hamster. Tomorrow there will be no time. But then on Tuesday we will have something to look forward to, because on Tuesday I will write about a small-yet-profound sort of happy philosophy. In the meantime, make friends with Nellie. She's kind of a genius. And also marvel at the cuteness of that hamster. I made it by accident. It's really cute!

Mangia!

2007-11-10T18:36:00.000-05:00

I'm about to zip out to an Italian dinner party, and so I leave you on NaBloPoMo day ten with this wonderful piece from Brian Andreas:

"There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good."

Good night, lovelies~

the ninth

2007-11-09T20:16:00.000-05:00

It's been an odd day. I decided to stay home and rest, hoping to fend off the microbial gremlins that were trying to colonize in the back of my throat. I'd had two DVDs from Netflix that had been sitting around for ages, and finally took the time to watch them~ one was a documentary about Howard Zinn. I've wanted to read one of his books in particular, A People's History of the United States, and this documentary thoroughly renewed my interest. What a remarkable man, working with absolute dignity to bring buried truths to light.

The problem, though, is that I get so overwhelmed. Instead of just being inspired and grateful, like I imagine most people would be, I end up feeling like I've been punched in the gut. I see the images of war and hear the stories of oppression and deceit and corruption, and I'm disgusted by the world. I question everything I'm doing and feel like I'm wasting my time, and when I go there-when I get so recklessly dismal inside- I really can't do anything help anyone, myself included.

I started looking at Peace Corps and Heifer International and other stuff online~ the video clips on the Heifer site are so amazing, you should take a look. I love that organization so hard. I also had a good conversation with my sweet friend and watched this little Elizabeth Gilbert video and tried to just get centered and let myself be inspired instead of guilt-ridden and despondent. Good grief.

I know that we all have different ways of walking through the world, different gifts and passions and capacities, and as long as we do our various stuff with mindfulness, compassion, generosity, and (gosh darn it) joy, each contribution adds value to the whole. I believe this. I do. I just have to be reminded again and again and again to apply this belief to my own self.

Breathe, sleep, nourish. Allow, accept, move forward. Practice, practice, practice.

day eight, post five

2007-11-08T22:47:00.000-05:00

Life sure the heck is interesting. Good night.

behind- already and again

2007-11-07T18:18:00.000-05:00

To force myself to turn on the computer and post something when I finally got home last night would have been nothing short of an act of self-loathing, and I'm trying to mostly avoid those. Even so, my few short hours of sleep were painful. Physically painful. I painted a friend's room last night, wearing too-tight old jeans that are the only thing I don't care about getting paint on. And there was stuff in the room. In the small, crowded room. Where I was supposed to expertly wield brushes and rollers and an unruly drop-cloth and a chair to sometimes stand on. And all of that only after moving quite a few large and small items out of the room. My body is mad at me. My shoulder blades are stuck. My left SI joint thinks that it belongs to an octogenarian. I have painter's elbow. The arch in my left foot feels all delicate and needy.

But! I'm not actually complaining. It was fun, and the morning-after woes are just messages, little reminders that my body needs more practice at muscle-usage. I really should indulge my poor, neglected muscles and tendons and joints more often.

So I hobbled (I mean I literally hobbled) into work this morning, and my day progressed like a Ben Stiller movie, only less dumb and with more kids. It reminded me of a Baby Blues comic strip I saw years ago. It was so totally on the mark that it stuck with me forever. Basically, you have a full-time mom with a baby and a toddler and she's been home all day with the kids and dad comes home from work and their conversation goes approximately like this:

Dad: Hi, honey! What did you do today?
Mom: Well, I did two loads of laundry, played five rounds of hide and seek, ran the dishwasher, changed two poopy diapers, supervised a finger-painting project, and bathed the kids...
Dad: I don't know how you do it!
Mom: ...and then it was time to make breakfast.

Ha! It's ridiculous, and so very real. And now I really must go to bed, because tomorrow is looking just as harried as ever. And I'm going to love it, by gum.

creating family

2007-11-05T20:19:00.000-05:00

When other people bring thickly-iced sheet cakes, my mother brings raw "fudge" made with dates, walnuts, vanilla, and organic cocoa powder. They bring the karaoke machine, she brings her recorder. They bring board games, she brings paper and markers. And she weaves her little self into their hearts~ she just does.

One afternoon during our holiday, she had several women in the group sitting around the table, tracing their hands and making turkeys. She made a very snazzy one. And then she went and filled it with our names in hearts. The next day, she pulled a similar feat... I woke up from a nap to the sound of her recorder, her laughter, and everyone else applauding.

She's a bit radical, sweetly so~ she can give a speech about anything at any moment, using big words and swooping metaphors and concepts most people have never considered. She's had the life shaken right out of her, and somehow she manages to love and love and love. Having parents who are so not status quo can be hard sometimes, but I know how lucky I am...

There has been a recent flurry of reconnections, and new connections. Mostly with the women on both sides of the family, some related by blood and some by marriage. My mother has jumped with both feet into the work of creating extended family. And I've been tagging along, admittedly apprehensive some of the time. Now I'd say that I'm officially on board, and I'm so grateful to my mom for getting me to that point. It feels like we've moved to a whole new level now. (We were never very involved with the extended family when I was growing up~ there was too much hurt that had yet to be healed~ and so it's taken a lot of time and a lot of wading to finally feel safe and confident enough to take the plunge and get to know these other people.)

(I think I'm starting to ramble now, so bear with me, if you like.) I think that it's hard to come into a family that's already established, and to let them know who you really are. It's one thing to scandalize folks that you never have to see again, but when you're trying to become part of a family that wasn't always yours, it becomes a little more delicate. Telling the truth can be risky.

I was happy and relieved to learn that some of my values and truths are shared by some people I thought disagreed with me. And that everyone in the group loves each other, up to and including their differences. I need to learn that one over and over again. I can be my real self without alienating everyone forever. And I can find the beauty and goodness in them even if they believe certain things that I don't.

And sometimes karaoke and cake, or markers and "fudge", can be just enough to get us over any bumps in the road and bring us back home again.

NaBloPoMo 3-in-1

2007-11-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

On Friday morning, I woke up to this view. It was dark long before we arrived in Gatlinburg on Thursday night, so we missed some of the most beautiful scenery that day. Obviously, we were appeased. We stayed in a "chalet" on top of a mountain, 12 of us in all, ranging in age from 13 to 76. My family of origin didn't do things like this, so it was a little like visiting a foreign country...

I'm absolutely exhausted from the last four days of driving and wandering and visiting and eating and drinking and laughing and playing and singing and more driving. We played more rounds of Apples to Apples than anyone has probably played ever in the world. (Margaritas and pajamas make it even more fun than it already is.) And last night we sang really loud and obnoxious karaoke, which I'm sure the neighbors loved passionately.

My brain isn't functioning a lot right now. But it's day four, darn it, and I'm posting. I did write while I was away, even though I didn't have internet access. My mom found me tucked quietly away yesterday and said, in her Proud Parent Voice, "You are a writer." See?

So, even though I didn't BloPo for two days, I was productive. And even though I may be incoherent right this minute, there will be more quality postings to come.

hit the road

2007-11-01T12:46:00.000-04:00

This is very much an on-the-run post!

Today I'm off to Gatlinburg, Tennessee with my mom. We're meeting up with some of the women in my stepfather's family for a long weekend... I was looking at a map, and there are places down there with names like:

*Piney Butt Loop!

*Boogertown Road!

*Loafer's Glory Way!

My motivation has been bumped up a few notches because of those names. I'm easy.

Also, I'm posting because it's November 1st, and it's NaBloPoMo. No, that is not National Blow Pop Month. That is National Blog Posting Month. You post every day. Like NaNoWriMo before the steriods.

Of course, I may not have any internet access while I'm out of town for the next few days. But oh well oh kay. I'll do what I can~ maybe there will be wireless in the hotel...

Happy November!

we are stronger than we know...

2007-10-29T22:16:00.001-04:00

I'm amazed by how hard and then how good life can feel, all within such a smidgen of time. I'm so familiar with the roller-coaster riding by now, you might think I'd be better at remembering that another high is always around the bend... Those moments of plummeting are just so breath-taking, though. Such velocity. But here I am, chugging skyward. Standing, at the very least, at the top of a big pile of gravel.

My nephew, A, is pictured here on that very gravel pile. He got me to run/fumble up it with him and then sort of ski back down many, many, many, many, many times the other day. I only see my little sister and nephew a few times a year, so it's a very special treat to spend time with him. He's an amazing little person, and he's been awesome at having conversations for a pretty long time, considering that he's not yet three.

When we were all together the other day, my 14-year-old brother, M, was working on a writing assignment at the computer. He'd been given a character prompt: Tiny-foot Johnson. I thought that he should be a winner of sack-races at family reunions, but my brother thought that he should be a mafia boss in Chicago. He managed to find a particularly hideous image of a body builder on Google, and he stuck the image right into his document so that his teachers could fully appreciate what he had conjured up. When A saw the picture, he ran in to tell us about it. "That weird man on the computer has nurses!" Nurses = breasts. I am beside myself just thinking about it.

Today I was out in the palatial yard of some people I work for, playing with two of the cutest children you can imagine. The five-year-old takes on different characters every day~ Harry Potter, Pharaoh, King Tut, Buzz Lightyear, etc. Today she was Robinson Crusoe. She was swinging -her new favorite thing- and all of a sudden, she hollered, "King Tut is in my pocket!" I laughed and asked if he had shrunk. She gave me that grown-ups are ridiculous look and said, "No... he's really just a piece of mulch, but I'm pretending that the piece of mulch is King Tut." Ha!

Tonight there was a family-friendly Dia de los Muertos event. I made sugar skulls for the kids to decorate, and they were a huge hit. I ran out quickly, so now I know to make about four times as many next year. (Everyone was very groovy about the skull shortage, and we made clay skulls after the sugar ones ran out.) I adore this holiday and am thrilled that more and more people are celebrating it each year. Since I'm on a roll with the kids' comments, my favorite snippet from tonight was:

"Audrey licks pennies."

"I do not!"

I get so much energy from events like this that I have trouble winding down afterward... and I have an early, early start tomorrow, but I'm too buzzy to go to bed...

Before I go and try to be appropriately snoozy, there's one more random thing that I wanted to share. I was looking at Craft magazine at Borders (hooray for free looking, especially when a magazine costs $15) and this woman's dolls were featured. I am in love.

Happy everything to everyone~

*A*

picking up the pieces

2007-10-16T22:23:00.000-04:00

I've been spiraling downward, curling inward, losing my way. It's a desolate place I travel to sometimes, and I always tell myself I never want to go there again, but sometimes I just parachute right down into the center of it. And there I am, weary and teary and sitting on my butt in the middle of nowhere.

Things are not peachy right now.

I seem to have ended a relationship that was sweet and wonderful in so many ways. (Please, if you know us, help me to respect his privacy by keeping the lid on names and details.) The friendship won't end, ever I hope. And the romance is far from gone. But I finally had to accept that sometimes love doesn't conquer all. And that sucks.

So, I've been on the verge of tears a lot of the time, feeling like my whole life is dumb because I'm so dumb and everything I do turns out to be a great big neon mistake. Can't fall asleep, can't wake up. Wanting to be alone, to eat things that will ultimately just make me feel worse, to get really unhinged and run far, far away. But as away as I go, I'm still me, and my heart still has to mend itself. (I just had a little image in my head, of my big cartoon heart stitching itself up with a pink silk thread...)

Someone said something to me yesterday that shook my brain a little. Basically, depression.

Oh, who, me? Oh, no, I'm not depressed, no no not me no sir.

But what do I think it is? It's not just this relationship. I was feeling a lot of it before that. I've felt a lot of it at a lot of times. And maybe I'm too stubborn, too much my little virgo nanny goat self, to admit that I'm not all fixed and done. I want to be, but I'm not. Part of what I had to face is that, despite all of the work I have done and despite the fact that I'm much less deflated than I was a few years ago, I still have some big work to do before I can be truly healthy and grounded in a relationship.

So yesterday I was feeling very bad. I cried when people asked how I was. If they didn't ask, I could sort of pretend to function, but as soon as The Question was hanging in the air between us, I was sopping and furrowed and concave. And as soon as I was free from my obligations, I came home and watched TV until my butt was numb.

This morning during a business networking event, people started receiving text messages. Unsettling ones. We had a sniper in town. Our wonderful, magical oasis was under fire. I was immediately queasy, hating the windows all around us. But we finished the meeting and went on our separate ways. I was pissed. I didn't want to suddenly become more paranoid, questioning the safety of every formerly-friendly place around me.

And then something shifted, like magic. I thought of all the people all over the world who walk through their lives every single day in much more danger than I've ever had to face. And I felt lucky.

Then, this afternoon I was gifted with the funds for two visits to my therapist. I love my therapist, and haven't been able to afford her for quite a while. It wasn't much of an issue when things were going along like a nursery rhyme, but this week I really could use some extra care. When this gift was offered (by someone I cried in front of yesterday), I was humbled and grateful and speechless. And that alone created another shift. I moved into the next phase of my day feeling so much lighter.

And. Another gift tonight! At another networking meeting- a very different one- where I connected with wonderful people and opportunities... someone I was wishing I could have a session with gave each of us a certificate for a free session.

Ask, even in a whisper, or between sobs, and you may be given just exactly what you need.

words to live by

2007-10-09T20:50:00.000-04:00

"Have compassion for yourself when you write. There is no failure- just a big field to wander in."

~ Natalie Goldberg

in and of the world

2007-10-05T22:45:00.001-04:00

I went missing, eh? Not exactly intentional, but a month has slipped past. My life feels not my own at times, and I'm trying to correct that, as much as possible... At the same time, there are things I simply can't share~ because they're not really mine to share, and I have to respect the boundaries and privacy of other people in my life.

So what can I share that is mine enough to share?

Last weekend was Lotus Festival, a magical event that I look forward to each year. The colorful character to the right is a member of the first group we saw on Friday night~ The Dhoad Gypsies. They made bizarre and intriguing noises and did bizarre and intriguing things! In the photo, he is balancing a vessel full of water on top of two glasses on top of his head. He danced around, stood on nails and a sword with bare feet, bellowed fire... I had to look away a few times!

There's always so much running around at Lotus, skipping in and out of venues, trying to catch bits of as many acts as possible. Along with the Dhoad Gypsies, we saw Balkan Beat Box on Thursday night, and snippets (some more snippety than others) of MC Rai, 17 Hippies, Red Stick Ramblers, Amazones, March Fourth Marching Band, Golem, Javier Garcia, Chic Gamine, and Alasdair Fraser & Natalie Haas. (I'll add links later... I'm supposed to be asleep right now.)

So much wonderful music! And amazing performers. I think that my favorite actual music was from Chic Gamine. They have an album coming out in November, I think... I will be having a copy. Oh, yes.

The other really lovely thing about Lotus is all the people who come back to Bloomington for the festivities. I got to see so many people that I hadn't seen in too, too long. Amen and hallelujah to that!

Now, as noted, I need to vegetate. Tomorrow is another busy day, and I've been a sleepyhead of truly great proportions. I didn't manage to habeas my corpus out of bed until after noon today, and even then, I only got up because I had a 1:00 meeting to scram to. Tomorrow I have to be ready to leave at eleven. Can you imagine?! Woe to me, y'all. Woe to me. But it's all worthwhile~ it's my grandpa's 80th birthday, and he most certainly deserves to be celebrated. :)

So, here I go. I'll be back much sooner this time...

birthday eve

2007-09-08T15:45:00.000-04:00

I was doing some deep-cleaning and reorganization yesterday, and came across the album that my mother made to document my birth. As tomorrow is my 31st birthday, I thought I'd share her writing, and this photograph of her and my father sharing a quiet moment during the labor~

A note: I'm staying true to her account, so my name is Heather here. I was Heather at birth, and became Anna later on...

"We arrived at Ann's dome at about 8am after about three and a half hours of labor. She put on a pot of coffee for the five of us- I had a special tea instead- Squaw Vine tea- good for soothing labor. She and her family continued with their morning routine- undisturbed by my little "dance."

Giving birth is the hardest work we've ever done. It requires such close "inner listening." I can see now how it could be very painful if the parents are not well prepared to co-operate with nature by this close "listening."

Ann is a very gentle and poised midwife. We were lucky to find someone so fine.

We tried to provide a quiet and unhurried space for the new one to be brought into. Tho quiet and joy are usually not associated in our thinking- this is what we experienced that wonderful morning.

(This note accompanies the first pictures taken after I emerged.) Heather's first minutes with us. She was a little upset at first.

So that she would have something familiar after all the struggle of being born- we put her right back into body temperature water."

*There are beautiful black & white photos in the album, including a few from the first few months. It's a treasure. Somewhere, I have another album with the same photos, but with my father's writing and account. I can't find it... maybe next year I can share that one.

please continue to hold

2007-09-03T11:35:00.000-04:00

I'm trying to pay my (late) health insurance bill by phone. I've been on hold for an hour and a half. Muzak, muzak, muzak, automated voice reminding me that all of their representatives are still (still!) assisting other callers and asking me to please continue (continue!) to hold, muzak, muzak, muzak...

Maybe I should have known better than to call on a Monday morning? Maybe. But here I sit, kink in my neck and left elbow. I even tried going to the bathroom, thinking that surely someone would be ready to assist me at that very moment. It usually works. Yesterday, I just knew that my sweetie would call if I got in the shower. I was right.

I need to leave for work...

I'm on hold in a lot of areas of my life right now. I wish I had more control over the world. Ha!

I really do have to leave for work. More to come...

remember september

2007-09-01T12:13:00.000-04:00

I knew that September was coming. It always does, and I'm always glad- until this day actually arrives. September signals the end of summer, the none-too-soon blessing of cooler weather, the month of my favorite local festivals...

But this morning a friend called before I'd dragged myself out of bed, and when we said goodbye, I looked at the date as I closed my phone. "Oh. It's September." The tears came immediately, and I didn't even have the decency to be surprised at them.

Today I'll wander around the Fourth Street Festival. I adore this festival, everything about it. Everything but the fact that eight years ago, I was also enjoying Fourth Street, not knowing that my dear sweet friend had just killed himself in his father's winter studio in a Chicago suburb. Today is the anniversary of his death, and it's still harder than I want it to be.

September is an emotionally loaded month for me. Anniversaries of suicide and rape. Festivals. Birthdays. My 31st birthday is a week from tomorrow. My sister's birthday is three days later, and is also the anniversary of the rape. Thirteen years. September is a roller coaster. My brother's birthday. Several friends'. Lotus Festival. Highs and lows, in messy rows.

There's a sweet, sad song that my father taught my sister and me. Remember September, before she said goodbye~ she showed the youngest robins the way they ought to fly~ around the mountain's shoulders, she spread a gypsy shawl~ and sent a breeze among the trees to sing about the fall...

the value of discomfort

2007-08-26T19:37:00.000-04:00

I've been getting Lisa Hammond's e-mail newsletter for a pretty long time. (She's the founder of Femail Creations.) She shares some pretty great stuff sometimes, and in her last newsletter she mentioned a free teleconference thing this coming Monday~ it'll be a conversation between her and another woman named Ann Tardy, who is the founder of Life Moxie. (The number is 605-772-3500 and the passcode is 436877113#. It's at 6:00 PST/9:00 EST.)

So I looked at the Life Moxie website and signed up for their newsletter, as well. The first thing that popped up in my inbox was a "9 Strategies Cheat Sheet" and one of the strategies is to Be Uncomfortable. That one caught my attention more than the other eight.

The quest for comfort and safety has been my Holy Grail. I don't even know if that's a correct sentence, but I think y'all know what I mean. I spent years holed up in solitude, creating my own blobby version of comfort, and now I'm finding that what I needed then is rarely what I need now. And these Moxie folks are telling me to be uncomfortable on purpose!

It was Wednesday when I got the e-mail. There was a writing sampler that night, which I really wanted to go to, until it was actually time to go. And thank goodness for those instructions! I walked out the door with the intention of Being Uncomfortable, and the class was as wonderful as ever. I wrote some good stuff, a few lines of which had everyone laughing audibly, and I was only uncomfortable a little bit of the time. (The real class starts this coming Wednesday, and I'm SO GLAD.)

The next morning, my alarm went off at 5:00. I had been invited to a BNI meeting, and the group meets at 7:00, so I goed for the gusto; not only being uncomfortable, but also living (for that one day, at least) by another Moxie strategy: getting up early. Yes, it smacks of redundancy (getting up early = uncomfortable), but there we are. I was so nervous about that meeting, and had found reasons not to go the two weeks before. This time I went because I didn't want to. And of course, I was glad that I did. I know that networking and meeting people face-to-face is my best friend when it comes to finding clients...

So, I'm making a commitment to discomfort- the good kind of discomfort. I'm curious about others' experiences with this kind of thing... do share!

sing me a lullabye

2007-08-19T22:11:00.000-04:00

For anyone who suffers from phases of horrible sleep, you know that I'm not exaggerating when I say that it SUCKS. It does. After several nights of not being able to fall asleep or stay asleep, you get to the point where you're basically just too tired to sleep. That's where I seem to be. Dragging through the day, quasi-wide-awake in bed, but too much of a zombie if I try to get out of bed and actually do something.

I picked up a friend this evening for a writing date, and started to cry as soon as she got into my car and asked me how I was. I whined and boohooed about how tired I am and how much I'm a failure and how stupid everything is and how I sabotage myself and it's all my fault blah blah blah. She flung her hands toward the sky, palms up, and insisted that I wasn't a failure at all, that I hadn't ruined anything, that I didn't have to have all the answers right this minute... and that things would look different if I could just get some sleep. Just what I would tell a dear friend who was in my same situation. So wise!

How blessed it would be if my exhaustion were to blame for all of the dings in my person. It's certainly to blame for the giant bags under my eyes. (If I had any money, I could keep it in my eye bags!) Right now I'm stalling. I'm so tired, but I'm computing instead of brushing my teeth. Because I'm afraid to go to bed! I hate just scootching around not sleeping. It's less fun than ingrown toenails. It's less fun than cleaning out the back of the bottom of the refrigerator. It's less fun than having to share your popcorn. It's EVEN less fun than having a spider fall on your head in the shower... which actually happened to me the other day.

But now, for my sake and yours, I'm going to brush and floss, remove the mascara that did nothing to help me look alive, wash my feet in the sink, and hang out in the dark. Long-distance lullabyes and sleeping spells are more than welcome!

my hero, and stuff

2007-08-09T23:39:00.000-04:00

One of the things my four-year-old charge especially loves to do for large chunks of time is COLORING. She just loves to color. (I do, too.) Today she announced that crayons are made of wax. Then she asked what kind of wax... she didn't miss a beat, and concisely answered her own question before I had a chance. "Well, not ear wax!"

This little conversation reminded me of the video that I thought I'd seen on Mister Rogers years ago. I could have sworn that he showed a visit to a crayon factory on Picture Picture, but I only found a Sesame Street version on YouTube. In any case, I did find some very wonderful clips about Mister Rogers. Oh, he was something else. Do take a few minutes and watch this one, where he speaks to the senate and saves the funding for CPB. He's just magic.

I saw the darlings of Found Magazine twice last summer, once in Alexandria, VA (along with Frank Warren from Post Secret!) and once in Portland, OR. So dang fun. Davy Rothbart is the magazine's founder, and he's also done quite a few stories for This American Life~ which have been compiled onto two CDs, which I bought. His interview with Mister Rogers is one of the best things I've ever heard EVER. (It's Act 1 in the Neighbors episode.)

I played it in the car for my dad, and it made him almost cry probably four times! It's that good. He actually says things like, "What a fine young man!" And he's pretty much a saint, but also profoundly and endearingly human.

So, yeah. That's all, I guess. Enjoy!

Oooh, but wait. That thing about ear wax. Until very recently, she thought that it was ear wacks- that it was the plural of ear wack. Other favorite mispronunciations include:

barbecube
pecause
renember
candy cap (as in, "you can't park there! that's a candy cap spot!")
pink tails (the hair-do, pig tails)
tummy egg (for tummy ache... it's tempting to let her say this for the rest of her life)

Good night for real now. I'm trying (for the bazillionth time) to institute a new schedule for myself. Tonight, I definitely failed. Ho hum.

inspiration from the uninspired

2007-08-07T22:00:00.000-04:00

The uninspired? That's me at the moment. Isn't it funny how one day we can feel all fruity and special, and then the next day our whole selves can suddenly morph into blobs of questions and furrowed brows and negative balances?

Oh, it's funny, alright! It's hilarious.

So, there's a pink chair over there. Someone put it out by the dumpster in my apartment complex, which made me wish at least a couple of things. Things like that people wouldn't put pink chairs in the garbage. Things like me having a workshop and some knowledge of furniture repair.

I really do wish those things. I've outgrown this little apartment, and most anything can make me long for more space. A new yard, so that I can have my dog back. More yard than that, so I can try out my dreams of being a small-scale goat and chicken and food farmer... you know, with the chicks and the eggs and the milk and cheese and soap and potatoes and tomatoes and all of that. A workshop (and a cool old truck) so that I can rescue things like the sad old chair. An uncarpeted room for at-home yoga practice. A pool, so I don't have to adhere to the public pool's hours of operation...

And then there's the whole piece of the equation called money. Of which I have less than none. It has happened, and I'm trying to be all zen or SARK about it. Trying very hard to trust that things will flow, that I'll always have what I really need... or at least the gumption to rustle it up!

Here, I like this:

Jump into the middle of things, get your hands dirty, fall flat on your face, and then reach for the stars~ (Joan L. Curcio)

please leave a message at the..... bwaaaahahahahaha!

2007-08-02T14:39:00.000-04:00

My first official ad for my business will be all over town within a few days. (I'm pretty nervous.) This morning, I decided that it was time to change my outgoing message on my answering machine, from a howdy-do! one to a more businessy one.

First of all, my answering machine is punchy, so I had to get out the manual to re-learn the proper button-pushing sequence, and then I had to stand on a chair, leaning my face over the machine, which is mounted on the wall, because otherwise it sounds like I'm standing across the room and talking into a fan.

So. There I am, perched above the machine, and I'm messing up, every time. And my messages sound like this...

"Thanks for calling The Happy House, sorry I can't take your call.... (long pause) ppppphhhbbbbbbbbbbttttttt! *click*"

"You've reached The Happy House, at 555... um... HAH! *click*"

"Hi! (long pause) pppppppphhhhhbbbbbttttttt! *click*"

And finally I had to get down off the chair and make some delicious pasta salad and try again later. It's ok now. I may do it over yet again, but at least I'm not honking with mirth in the middle of any sentences. Bonus of this, too:

After all the to-do, I was thinking about the implausible amount of fun I've had with phone messages over the years. When my best friend lived with me, we did one of those "when I say blah blah, you say blah! blah blah! BLAH! blah blah! BLAH!" things like cool rappers do at concerts, only not as cool, and creatively using our names, and OF COURSE messing up and laughing hysterically a thousand times, until it stopped being funny and we just wanted to be done, already.

Another time, I was Beulah Witch from Kukla, Fran, and Ollie. I (Beulah)was the secretary for myself (Anna) and informed callers that I wasn't home right now because I had to go to the hairdresser and get an estimate. Some people loved Beulah. Some did not.

And then there was the blinding bolt of inspiration that was delivered one day as I funneled bird seed into gallon jugs in the back room of Wild Birds Unlimited, where I worked (Certified Backyard Birdfeeding Specialist right here!) ten years ago. Perhaps my favorite outgoing message ever:

"Hi, this is Anna, at 555-5555. Please leave your height, weight, hair color, and sign of the zodiac, and I'll call you back as soon as I figure out who you are."

My mother howled every time she called. The first line of all her messages had to do with the extreme funniness of my very serious voice and very goofy request. Most people didn't actually do as they were asked, but once someone DID... and I never called her back! Because I couldn't figure out who she was!

a boat for what ails you

2007-07-31T15:06:00.000-04:00

My best friend and I went on a little canoe outing ths weekend, an evening adventure on still waters. I love boats, and it seems outrageous that I hadn't been canoeing in so long. (I learned to canoe many years ago at Challengers Day Camp. My number one favorite thing at camp was the horses. Number two was the canoe trips. And number three was making sassafras tea from actual baby sassafras tree roots.)

The water was so calm Sunday evening, and the air was light and cool. A group of friendly strangers gathered, trying on life jackets and standing around quietly, holding their heavy green plastic paddles like staffs, waiting to be told what to do.

When everyone was set, we started clambering into our chosen canoes, and although I thought that I knew exactly what I was doing, my body told me to chill out and pay attention... I pretty much only like to sit in the back, but this time I had to give up and let someone else steer. (There's something to ponder a bit more...) My kinked out neck was still complaining, and I wanted to be sure that we'd make it back to shore without too much trouble if my neck threw a giant tantrum in the middle of the lake. And I discovered that the other big benefit to sitting in front is the really great photos that can be captured!

Once we were gliding over the water, I felt right at home. The ripples on the surface of the lake, the sounds of bugs and frogs and birds, the changing colors and patterns in the darkening sky, the bats swooping silently overhead~ everything was just nice. A few times, I did think that a bat was going to have sonar failure and run into my paddle, but they can correct their angle of swoop with impressive speed and accuracy. It took everything in me to not start singing the Count's bat batty batty bat song from Sesame Street, but I decided that the rest of the boaters probably wouldn't have loved being subjected to it as much as I love singing it.

Here's something else that came up during this little excursion: I don't think of myself as a competitive person. But then, at random moments, I realize that I'm being completely competitive! I want to be the first boat under the bridge! The first ones to greet the gaggle of geese on the far bank! This has been happening more and more. I need to win the board game and to be the only person in town to have a business like mine, and blah blah honk. What's it all about, I wonder? Fodder for a future post, perhaps...

In any case, I think that there will be more water-top adventures in the near future. And I recommend it to really everyone! Ah, boats, such a good idea...

meow

2007-07-28T14:54:00.000-04:00

I miss my cat. (That's him over there.)

Jasper was the cat who renewed my faith in the potential goodness of the feline race. I loved cats once, many years ago, until I became convinced at the age of 14 that my black cat, Cricket, was possessed. He was under my bed, playing with a tiny mouse. I pushed a book at him in an attempt to distract him long enough that I could save the mouse, and he looked right at me and PUSHED IT BACK.

In the years that followed, many experiences proved to me that cats were not nice. I was afraid of them, and just plain didn't like them. There was the cat where I often house-sat, the old-lady one who sat on my lap wanting me to pet her... until she was suddenly and inexplicably so done with the petting that she would jump up and hiss at me with her claws all sticking out and then run off to feel royally victimized and plan her next ambush.

Then there was the declawed Garfield look-alike. Huge and fat and orange and cranky. He lived with some people I babysat for. When the adults of the house were around, he would honey-double around my feet and pretend to be a lump of love, simple and benign. But when they left, OH, look out. He was the Gigantic Clawless Hallway Prowler, Protector of Babies and Empty Rooms. One night I cowered by the baby's doorway after putting him to bed, paralyzed with fear. The cat stood in the Very Narrow Hallway, growling and totally ready to pounce. In a moment of brilliance, I backed up and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, and then dashed past the beast with the towel held up between us. He yowled in anger and tried to leap at me and scratch me with his non-existent claws. He was too fat to leap very high, and I ran past him and down the stairs and planted myself next to the monitor, praying feverishly that the baby wouldn't wake up...

Fast-forward to Jasper. I didn't really mean to get a cat. I meant to get a dog. For my dog. I was feeling badly about the time that she spent alone while I was in classes, so I did in fact get her a dog. But it went sour, as the new dog proved to be extremely neurotic and pushy and extremely good at getting out of the yard and extremely prone to stealing things from neighbors' yards. Like juicy bits of garbage, and inserts from inline skates. She went to live with a nice couple on a hundred-acre cattle farm, where she could run and run and catch varmints and eat them and then run some more.

And then a friend, who happens to be the president of all cat lovers, mentioned that a really special kitty had appeared at her house, and that he needed a home. I went to visit him. He wasn't scary. He came to live with us. And he was so completely wonderful. He loved my dog passionately, and would grab her giant head with both arms and shove his little face into her ears while she looked at me in resignation with big, patient eyes.

When I sold my house last year, I looked for people to take my sweet pets. Jasper had been going on outdoor adventures for a few months, simply because I was tired of fighting with him about it and because he was happier that way. (I know, maybe you think I'm a bit of a blasphemer right now, on two counts.) Well, the worst did happen, and one day Jasper had plumb disappeared. Maybe he knew I was leaving. Maybe not. But I have missed him ever since.

Lately, I've been having to talk myself out of getting another cat on at least a weekly basis. My apartment is so tiny, and I can't afford the extra monthly fee, but OH THE PANGS. I really just want my Jasper back. Next year, I plan to move into a bigger place again, and will get my sweetie pie dog back from my sweetie pie friends who have been taking such good care of her. And we'll find another angel kitty to be our friend... Until then, I'll ride the waves of missing and meouching and practice that good old patience thing.

One

2007-07-26T18:55:00.000-04:00

Starting something new always feels a bit scary, but then there's the sparkle, the excitement and possibility that makes us jump in, in spite if our fears. (Not in spite of ourselves, oh no. Just in spite of the fear.)

I'm a cautious jumper. I nose around and hem and haw and think and think and think. And THEN. Then I get tired of all that, and I stick a toe in. And eventually, a wave comes along and I'm just swept into the current. It takes a while, but it's good. Here I am.

I figure a proper introduction is in order.

As the column to your left will tell you, I'm Anna~ a 30-year-old someone, dabbling along, trying to shape a sweet life. This can mean different things on different days... (Today it means, in large part, trying to be productive without making myself squawk out in pain. I think I may have danced too crazily this weekend, and my neck was very kinked and ouchy when I woke up this morning.)

What else can I tell you? I have a tiny little apartment, which I squeezed nestily into after selling my much larger house last year so that I could travel for a few months and have some much-needed adventures. I have a wonderful family~ both parents are remarried to astonishingly wonderful people. I have a 26-year-old sister and a two-year-old nephew and a 13-year-old brother. I have a sweetheart with a very sweet heart, and my circle of friends is wider and richer than ever before. I'm lucky and grateful.

I got my degree a few years back in Human Development and Family Studies, mostly because I'm passionate about parenting and early childhood. I adore pregnant mamas and new families and babies, and have considered becoming a doula over the years. Being on call, though, I'm not sure that would agree with me!

I've been nannying for quite some time and currently have a four-and-a-half-year-old and a seventeen-month-old, sisters. They are so much work and so much fun, and YES, it's because I get to go home at the end of the day that I sound so happy and patient with them in the grocery store! (Someone recently made a comment after hearing me in the store with the girls... I could tell that she was being hard on herself, saying "I never sound like that with my kids in the bulk section!" and I said, "That's because I'm the nanny and I get to go home at the end of the day!" She was so relieved. Ha!)

I've always loved to create, but I've only recently started to experiment with saying OUT LOUD that I am a writer and a photographer. It feels good. :) It's such fun to play with different materials... as long as I can curb my perfectionism and let go of my redonkulous concerns about wasting things! Squishing the inner critic is a constant project...

In the midst of what already feels like a full life, I'm in the process of starting a business called The Happy House. (Oh boy!) It's the biggest and newest and scariest thing of the moment, and I really want to make it fly. I've found during these years of working in people's homes, that I really enjoy caring for the spaces themselves. I love to clean and organize other people's stuff! And I love to design and decorate spaces. So that's the idea... (Another oh boy! For effect!)

Signing off, feeling fresh and ouchy and hopeful for a magical disappearance of this wonky neck pain come morning~