Old-Same,

How do you fare?

It's been a long time since I've written. In coming home I've lost the lodestone of me. I'll find it again. We'll have more to say. Things not just whirling around. For the record, you and me, we're dancing around big topics. Spiritual things. Encounters. Tests. Tremors and upsets. Divides. Course setting things i feel- that will when we look back upon our letters be unwritten and the weight of the unwritten, oh my. That's where we betray ourselves. Or simply cannot find words to say. I understand. I've spent two months speaking, but I almost wonder if Jeju will ever come up again. It must? Rocksolid was the change. I tell people: it was a challenge. it was anxiety of the body divorced of the mind. I didn't feel safe. I meditated on the rocky shores almost every day for months and again and again the word - safe. I felt drawn to intimacy with Jesus. I understand, as John the Baptist did that he could die knowing that Jesus was the one who was to come- he didn't have to look for another. I wept at the thought. The time was about abandonment of self into God's hands. Walking the way of holiness. Coffee. One day being delivered into God's heart. Feeling encompassed. Feeling able to love fully the place He had put me. And then the journey and travel of it all- the rest. And then i came back. And everyday seemed much the same as a long time ago but different anxieties, looking peripherally at the job. Bothered but not that i don't own a pair of jeans. That i need a queen mattress. That there's nothing in my room but a bed and a tv. I don't have a cellphone, or a dayplanner. I don't even know if i can hold onto the things that have passed. past. And my nails are splitting. I'm drying out all over. I'm weirded out over the prospect of gaining weight. I don't know where the footholds are. Or where in the house I should be.

And between those things, I'll just mention for myself that I had an encounter with a lightening rod of God. (at the conference aut invited me to) I said to her, oh my, you're a lightening rod. She said, keep receiving unless you're driving. It built up till the next day and poured over for hours. I saw the heavens. There was an angel behind danica. I was in tears. After, taken up, tired and calm. The next day burning with God's love for you, for anyone I saw. And then there was the tea, and J speaking in tongues. And the church conflict- losing the building, the letters, the conversations and dipping back in. And now a womens retreat. And the dreams, the bridal magazine, the prophetic elementary school friend, and the same-sex debate trying to ruin my wedding (that dream). My husband to be, having issues with his top-hat. Not, defined. Oh and my birthday.

Lately I've found God wants me to continue to be relational. people over lists. worship over responsibility. I think He is patently rejecting my concept of projects, and bulldozing. I still don't even know if I'm at my full capacity. It doesn't seem like it as the only thing i got done was cleaning out a linen closet and doing laundry. With plenty of breaks. I've also found there's even less on Tv then there was when I left. I find myself most comfortable in front of the computer. When it's not crashing. I still dont have the cord for the laptop and indeed the lens and my camera are no longer speaking.

It all feels not myself and jumbled.

And my jaw is constantly clenched. Yoga helped a little bit this morning. But still i barely relaxed and even though i tried to close my eyes after battling sentient military ships via xbox... i just couldn't. I kept playing. Oh and meanwhile the house- kitchen cabinets mostly gone through, j's couch where the old one used to be and a middleages inspired bench where the stereocabinet was. My grandfathers navy chest where the sidetable used to be. So it comes, it goes- it's evolving. Soon what once was will be gone and what comes will be what is.

Ok, i'm off to pick popcorn out of my teeth and hydrate. Oh and watch ONCE. THe office is making me so angry. Just nevermind. I did see the end of AR by the way- but i just didn't know or care much about who to root for.

m.
-for later: postcards, the everyday.

i adore the green

The puppy lives. She laid around like a lump yesterday - what did they do to me? - and today she is back in action with her puppy jazz paws and incessant licking of Bender's overjoyed face. By overjoyed I mean snarling, obviously. But then there's this sheet that says, keep puppy calm and relatively inactive for a week while she heals. Mm-hmm.

J.Lo called the principal again and allegedly K.Lo's assigned bus seat will be changed. Right. So maybe no car riding for the rest of the year and beyond? We'll see. Slacker school and their ineffectual lice takedown.

I have a long to-do list this weekend and my brain can't hold any of it. I mean obviously I'll write it down. But my brain is too full to do any accomplishing. This includes our assignment, and two freelance articles, and finishing the babyshower invitations and mailing them, and some other crap I've forgotten already. See? Effing hormones. Debilitating!

And reading. I haven't read from an actual book in, like, two weeks.
And yoga. I feel like some of these circulatory issues would be helped by picking up yoga again. Right?

This morning is t-ball, preceded by the farmer's market, where apparently CSA veggies await us. I love the randomness. Don't pick up for two weeks - except wait, come by the farmer's market, I have stuff for you! Love the farmer.

Except a few hours later - I'm back from the game and the market - the farmer didn't recognize me? Which is fine, he's only met me twice and not in the context of the busy market. But then even after hearing the name, he was like, oh yeah - that's Penelope. And then proceeded to pack a bag with everything Penelope likes, but as though Penelope wasn't there. I was instead the Penelope Produce Ambassador? It was so weird! And I was too confused to correct him? Agggh. WhatEVer. I'm blaming the whole scene on hormones, too. And will attempt not to let it taint my bokchoysoup.

I did take some pictures on my solitary walk from the market to the ball field. Which was chilly. But filled with fantastic things like green, non-ProRunPatricia trees, baby ducklings and hissing geese. Who doesn't love hissing geese...

I'll be needing to hear more about the birthday tea, thanks in advance!
xoxox

Mornin',

So i've made some of my first home pressed coffee by Peets. How long do you let it steep normally? The taste is all right. I wouldn't say resplendent- but good if I double the recipe. Like 4 scoops instead of 2. Is that excessive? I can't help it. I have allergies. Thee breathing smelling/taste thing? My eyes are red and I'm snarfing and hacking. Which makes me think I need to eat more honey if that does in fact work. I'm eating an apple and've had an egg and 2 ezekial bread toasts which would be better if there were nuts baked into the bread but anyway. And i'm watching the office- I'm not sure if it needed to be 40minutes long especially since Jim's sacrifice continued throughout the episode to make Pam seem like a selfish deluded hosebeast who had hopefully no one on her side- as it seemed as the episode progressed that there really is NO going back. Even for fictional characters. Am I right? And then when Andy was like... blah blah blah follow your dreams and Jim didn't even catch the correlation? Or was he just putting on a brave face? I do love davidwallace. And oscar and angela and the bit with stanley and phyllis at the end. Nice. I think the heavy actor issue of whether andy would be a success or not was a bit irritating-  especially since he is already "successful"- it would've been much better to have a discourse about inital fame and then what do you do "after"...

Meanwhile it's suppose to be blazing today which i'm not happy about because my body finally adjusted and i'm no longer freezing so that 95 is actually really hot and wilting- yesterday i attempted to do something and i was like ugh no. I do continue to move my parents a few boxes at a time. Progress is being made I have to believe. Though it doesn't really seem like it. Which messes with my productivity meter. But really bit by bit. Here we go on down the lane. Like my dad came over yesterday and was like blah blah LATER. As if the time was not now. Me being back is NOW. I am the ball in motion. Be the ball. Roll. You can do it. You're almost there.

The other day i rounded the corner to my bathroom and i was suddenly struck by my feeling 'old'/er now staunchly in my late 30's. And my drivers appointment made on the 8th (a bit late) so i can take that new picture- the one that hopefully will show a benchmark on the way down the lane. And who really knows what to do with myself. And there's a bump on my chin that was a blemish once and i think officially scarred? And is now a permanent discolored bump which drives me nuts. It's like if i were to make an analogy about Stanley from pro/run finally making it after a 3rd try out and then being so completely off his game that it was disasterous... and patricia and her trees? are you serious? I'm with Nina- wacky, whimsy but cohesion and sophistication- come on. Worst season of pro-run ever. Though i did love that zak guy. I guess I am in the right place to be the person I am. LA.

What else... oh puppy spaying and my cats all have fleas. Which they do and are now medicated on the necks waiting it out. Oh corruptable nature. with its nits, fleas, bedbugs (ambers apt complex), lice and cockroaches and ants and mites and whatever else... you just have to shake your head at. And thank a tidy 1st world order that eradicates such things.

Allright, let me go beeee productive. Or think about being productive? It's hard to say. Maybe i'll just stare at stuff and watch the day go by. Decisions, decisions.

m.


ps. for bruckner i think i'd actually ... hmm i could google image it and guess the address. that might be fun.



 

good morning,

It's cold. My hand(s)/arm(s) are still intermittently asleep. And sometimes my right foot toes? And this morning it occurred to me that I've been wearing the night arm brace thingy upside down for five days. Egad, penelope - brilliant! Not the only ridiculous mistake I"ve made this week however. Am fighting the urge to close the porch door and turn on the heat already. Not that I'm really complaining, because this is spring! I'm glad we haven't jumped with both feet straight into summer. I need time, transition.

Five or six library books are inexplicably overdue - why am I not getting timely notices of impending doom? Although it wasn't just me, with the blog-service shutdown. Their Facebook page is in an uproar, bloggers lamenting and railing over the thoughtless approach to disbandment. Like when Picnic shut down? They sent warning emails for six months. I wanted to pull my hair out by the end of - I KNOW. I GET IT. YOU'RE SHUTTING DOWN. But at least they gave ample warning. As they should!

Anyway, the blog about the children has been transferred. To the second choice platform, WP, but whatever. I've wasted enough time with tech hoops and other obstacles, and am sticking to it.

Right now I'm watching the ProRun season finale. Stanley sewing models into outfits like a madman. Whaaaat happened, Stanley. And why is Michelle's runway music on barbiturates. Although I love her collection. Aw, Patricia - dedicating the collection to trees. I like it. Maybe they're truffula trees, but that's all right?

But I'm ready for the next season already.

Puppy's spay-surgery is tomorrow. I'm hoping for a quiet weekend. Is it too much to ask? Three super-busy weekends in a row and I'm ready to crash. Not that said weekends weren't filled with goodness. Much goodness with friends, family and friends again. And finally seeing Duke Gardens, which is lovely! Clearly even more charming this time of year with unobnoxious temperatures and full flora. And pondering, if you could go there all the time, what would be "your spot." In the endless nooks and crannies. By the water? Next to stones? On a quiet bench or in the zen-ish garden. Maybe in a surreptitious pocket of woods, like the old man with a book.

Omg, Jewel is going to be in a Lifetime movie...what is happening.

Also, the heavy cloud/ton of bricks has descended. Oh hormones, how I loathe thee. That's all I can say about that right now.

Tell me what's going on in your world, m! And send poor Bruckner a postcard already. Via owl post if you must. They found Harry in the cupboard under the stairs, surely they can find Bruckner on the gravel road past the giant blue cactus across from the honey badger statue, or whatever that insane address was.
lovetoyou!

and then sometimes, too, you're all

encountering ants floating in your tea, attacking the cat food, crawling over-EVERY-THING. Just now on your arm as you try and type. Rude. And having dressed yourself, and cut those short pants to capri length- realizing the outfit is not appropriate for either working in the garden or doing yoga. The only two things you've set out to do today. And the stripped shirt has a hole in it anyway and a couple stains so you might as well junk it but who has the monetary funds to do that? And the pants, they work- they fit great. They were free. It was a gift. It was amazing.

I did edit a document last night for $20. That was nice and unexpected. It took too long. Did I change too much? Did he really like it? How about that ending though? He didn't say it was amazing but it really was, unless it was too  much? Was it too much? It was good though.

But then there's the - am i using too much butter? Am i eating too much healthy ezekial bread with that butter? Too much snacking right? Clearly. Not enough movement. But my foot. The snarfing. And these allergies. The popcorn though, and the fruit, and the hummus and crackers, am i back sliding? I'm not backsliding. What is that anyway. But down the ladder that's where I want to go. Not undo what was done. Because it's amazing. If i make it to october or november this size it'll have been a year. A cause for celebration and downward trending.

But nevermind, the day is partly cloudy. It's ticking by. The dishes can wait. This beating oscillating hemming and hawing, that can wait. Let me go pull weeds. Let me go do just the one thing. Among the blooming buzzing brilliance--- be, beauty, being, best...

m.


ps. I don't even have bruckners address- but if it's the same place its off LFB near Normandie... right oh or was that Franklin before LFB forms. Ok yes, i think that's it, on the left hand side- no right hand, i'm dyslexic--

and then sometimes

You buy a bag of mini powdered donuts and they're all wet. Ew.

Or you spend hours sorting through a bunch of outgrown clothes to consign online, at this place that seems really cool, and came recommended, and after setting your expectations super low (maybe I'll get a buck apiece - $20+? that'd be okay), they only give you $6.41. Man that pissed me off.

I am however SO EXCITED that Michael Kors will be judging the ProRun finale. In which I'm rooting for Michelle.

And excited to have picked up two delicious-looking YA books at the library yesterday evening. Maybe I'll even settle down enough read them.

I'm in desperate need of yoga for my ridiculous limbs. Aging is sooo overrated.

Last night of bells practice! Until the fall. Last Wed. night dinner, too. A small, only-handbells potluck.

Here are the vegetables.

And here is the puppy.

I love them both, but in different ways.

My ridiculous arthritic carpel tunnel hand is completely distracting me today.

I hand-wrote an invitation last night - I'm going for typewriter font, so I suppose my hand was crunched oddly - but still. One invitation. And my entire forearm and hand are still off-and-on asleep. Does this seem strange to anyone else? I wear a special glove for crafty activities and everything. I don't get it. I'm trying not to obsess. You can see that's working very well. 

Perfect weather. I mean really. Other than the fine haze of yellow dust settled over ev.ery.thing. In fact I'm still wearing a sweatshirt, so it could be a little warmer, but as it is I am camped out on the back porch with the doors and windows wide open. Hello, spring. Here you are, after all. 

The CSA that I can barely afford at the moment is completely worth it - I don't know that I'll keep picking up directly at the farm, because it's kind of a haul, but it's flippin' adorable. The farmer who runs it! Love him! He doesn't say much, but he's super sweet. And last week loaded us up with a bunch of strange vegetables I wouldn't normally touch, but they've expanded our recipe horizons and so far there's been no complaints. From the people who actually it is, anyway.  

For our garden fare: there are sweet peas, which look way better than the sad few of last year. And the lettuce is sprouting, I think? Hard to tell with weeds that are also sprouting. And the whole thing needs more water, I know. Oh, and then, from the rotted pumpkin that was in the corner, there's a pumpkin patch that could take over the world . So I'll have to reign that in. But so far it's the winner, the first on the mat in this leg of the Amazing Race. 

Are you watching that this season? We're three eps behind. On that and everything. But all in due time. 

I'm completely antsy today. Damn hand. Haven't read a book in days. But maybe the library tomorrow. And the continued ponderance of summer break, which arrives shortly. I'm approaching it with not a shred of blind optimism; this year I'm aiming for full-fledged practicality. Like we can't afford camps every week, but maybe one or two? Or one camp and a class? Sprinkled in there to anticipate and maintain the momentum. Dare I dream. A camping trip? There's a cool-weather spot allegedly maybe 3 hours from here. An early June wedding. A possible late-summer road trip. A July ninja visit! Swimming lessons? A whole lot of uh, free time. And, you know, generally keeping everyone alive and relatively sane. Let us go forth with the least-favorite season and may we uncover any wonders it may hold. 

Hand: still asleep. Killing me. 

Go,

The oscillating is like this- moving fast, humming and vibrating but not matching my surroundings. Out of time. Responding as if the wall of physical space and time were still there. Finding in a certain sense others behaving the same. So much cultivation to do, reclaiming, and grooming, and re-inventing. The lists are so long. But,

I find myself here. Unable to think much or move. The updating and progress of my days comprised of conversations I can't seem to hold onto, a familiarity that dismisses the absence, of doing this and that, and staring into space. but then again... it's only been 23 days? But then in that amount of time in another context I'd moved every few days down the length of a country... but then my time here has been no less profound- its just masked. What i should be doing is writing postcards. Maybe that will help.

odd-ends

So it's spring break week for the children. Nothing like spring break to make you want a break? Holy shiz. I mean I'm hormonal, so life perspective is inherently skewed. But ho.ly.shiz.

Rather than one long blog-story, my recent life exists on bits of scrap paper ~

We tilled the garden-earth. Add moss and manure and it's already looking better than Year 1. Planted lettuce and peas and soon eggplant and tomatoes, courtesy of mom. Go garden go! That's my favorite day of the whole year possibly, fraught with sunshine and hope and possibility.

Directly before said gardening, the following occurred in the span of maybe 30 minutes: a tick crawled up my leg. a wasp dive-bombed my head. a black widow spider lurked in the soil. An omen of anything? Maybe the actual tick bite discovered later, which STILL ITCHES and I assume will continue to do so for three months, like they do.

No job for now. Maybe August. I mean it makes sense and I get it, but still feel whiny and tragic about the cold hard facts. Freelance filler in the meantime is just so unreliable. Friggin' ugh it stresses me out.

The Sophie has tripled in size during her 7 weeks here, weighing in at 21 pounds. Vet visit number three we took in our usual stride. Next month: last shots and spaying. At a reduced cost we hope.

Starship Lo.Co. allows us to do magical things like tote large objects places and so we finally got rid of that crappy front door sitting in our garage for a year and the stupid lawnmower that ran over a culvert last year. I don't know what that thing was thinking when it went all suicide bomber - had nothing whatsoever to do with its driver, I mean it. So anyway, we left this sign taped to its handlebars in case someone wanted to adopt it. And because we just could not help ourselves. 

On ep 2 of Jericho; it's scratching the Netflixitch for the moment. 

My hag-neighbor's husband has gone to the hospital/nursing home again. Which is a good thing as far as caretaking goes, in that she won't have to live that exhausting existence anymore and he'll have the care he needs. But also it means she's more available to suck one into a conversation, and I hate talking to her. Because as regularly mentioned and oft-noted, she is a hag. So I'm totally happy for her! but she still sucks. 

We're on a SuperMario kick here, in which mommy conquers new worlds and N.Lo thinks I'm wicked awesome. And he has that video game brain that daydreams and devises new plans. But hell if I can't conquer the volcanic hellfire that is World 8! I secretly want to play without an audience sometimes just to make some strides. 

I love church as usual but am currently maxed with it - in accordance with hormonalness - blah. Stupid leadership and bible study - don't. wanna - any of it. But I don't know. Potluck et al tonight could be a welcome distraction from springbreaking? If the brownie fairy would come and make some for me or whatever. 

Onward to another day with library, futile-freelance, puppy-play and not-killing the children!

xoxox

pen 

Ready-Set,

The journey back took longer than expected, but you can start sending me letters again.

Let me recall where I was. It was Laung Namtha. My roommate kept me up by asking me a full litany of questions about Christianity. We started with light topics like abortion, ran through the gammit with Jesus and forgiveness and ended with just a dusting on prophetic prayer. But by then it was past 1 and she had a bus to catch in the morning. So she left me, and I prayed that kind of thing about soil and truth taking root... more on that when i bring myself up to present day Easter.

The morning was nice. I don't remember anything pressing as I sat down to breakfast. The power had gone out. My laptop was being funny about charging- now we know why. I think the adapter died or got fried. Who can say. I had tea and tried to make the time pass, with nothing to do and an afternoon plane. Papaya salad. A bland pho. Then on the back of a caged truck to the airstrip. Twin engine plane sort of thing. A woman hacking behind me, setting my teeth on edge. Loud group chatting and laughing adding to the dissonance and discomfort, the slight nausea creeping in and the heat.

Touchdown.

I didn't want to bother the missionaries. So I let them be. I bravely, the 2nd time around walked out of the airport and caught a public tuk-tuk into town- the price difference being akin to something like .50c or $7. Nevermind the germans who just let me walk off and didn't even offer me a ride, and that's after I nudged them.

Anyway I met up with my Laung Prabang roomie Alex for some slight room savings, to commisserate and decompress with. I had some delicious fruit smoothies, overwalked through wats and the city heat sans my sun hat which i'd lost somewhere back wherever. I had a limp. The a/c barely worked and it got worse the 2nd night. We got a discount. I bought some paper umbrellas. I ate a stale croissant. I drank beer with my indian food. We got eaten by mosquitos. I got a skant amount of sleep. And then I was walking through the streets at dawn. I sent Alex off to get her photographs of monks on the backdrop of the Mekong Delta and i was determined to walk the 4km to the airport if I had to- but I didn't, and still paid too much or as expected, for my transport that I flagged down and at one point felt pretty sure I was being kidnapped but it led me through a neighborhood past saffron swathed holy men sitting in plastic chairs chatting with some men, your usual stray dogs, and a dissassembled manniquin stuffed under a circular picnic table, only to finally turn me back on course after dropping off cab passenger.

And then there I was in the Bangkok airport with 8+ hours to kill. I think I spent $20 on lunch and later, tea and chocolate cake. And almost came to tears as they wouldn't let me check in until 2. I read a magazine and a book, and took an hour nap on a traveler worn couch in the corner of the 3rd floor holding pen, and then on the way to taipei failed to sleep at all but watched something about marigolds and india. And then rather inocuously the next airport where i changed into another outfit and used my oliveoil infused cleansing wipes, and flossed, and took a 20minute nap in an empty waiting room themed all about the post office. After I slept a vomina pill induced 6 hours I watched two movies about skies falling and bravery. Both I felt lackluster and hardly earned sentiment, but then there it was, the plane was landing, and after hobbling to the customs line, 41 people ahead of me, my blue bag slowly chugging around, another line and a customs officer saying that I was braver than he was to have been where I have been for as long as I had been I skipped up the plank to see no one at all waiting for me as they eventually had fallen back and apparently were in a rapt conversation about the zombie apocalypse when I approached - and then they rather distractedly were like, hey! yea! welcome home! It was pretty funny.

I had really been craving fruit smoothies obviously and I found the weather freezing. But I ended up at in/out having a burger, finding my friends to be rather fatigued looking but happy to see me, Lolly detailed and cleaned, and then later balloons, a bouquet, my starbucks card with a little cash on it, and ribbon hanging here and there and everywhere. Param ran right up to me and followed me into my room. Twist fled. And marley took a bit to not be mad at me. I sat down later and played Portal which was another thing I really wanted to do with Amber. And then there it was. My first few hours back.

More on oscillating, and time warps later.
My love,
m.