Penofmylife,

I don't think i can communicate enough the magnificence of such a dream. It taps very much into my secret desires to do exactly that, or squirrel away and be a hermit or come under someones teaching and take on my destiny. Perhaps its a warning that I shouldn't neglect you when I do. Remind me. I probably suggested you stay. That would've been grand. Next time your dream takes us on such a voyage, remember to stay with me- no matter what I say. It's clear there's some sort of key to the comings and goings of me. But apparently I do frustratingly thwart and deviate the path. I had a dream the night before, my mom reminded me, that involved me touring in a bus, in foreign lands and at one point of a bathroom stop i was barefoot, and I was wondering why didn't I put on my shoes and my mom was yelling at someone because the bathroom was so dirty, and I just remember it being impossible for me to go in there. Obviously according to you, I made it to my next stop. Last night I may or may not have been ziplining and rockclimbing in this gym, which was strangely after celebrating someones birthday who had the same birthday as jesus. And there were at least 5 other people celebrating birthdays and I was like, whoops i forgot to ask for candles, as we already had the cake, and the waitress brought them.

But anyway, oh I got our book we're going to read. I thought it would be thinner somehow but let me know when you're ready for it. I'm also reading this book called "scandalous risks"... I'm not sure how scandalous it is so far but we;ll see. I need to read today as yesterday I spent 10 hours watching tv. I did sort of work on the jewelry but mwah i'm feeling thwarted by materials, my vision, my lack of knowledge about jewelry construction and what if its not good enough? What if the materials break? What if its inferior to what i envisioned? Ach.

So let me tell you about my first ever, quite possibly, visual migraine... the pic is sideways but mom and i came in from touring the garden, where the other day we picked all of these beauties. It is the first of the spring harvest as we've been steadily picking bouquets since then. It always makes it hard to imagine there will be summer flowers to harvest. Ok, but anyway, I come in and i'm sitting down and i thought i'd stared into the light outside too long, so i blinked thinking it would go away. But no it extended out from to the right of my right eye like vibrating pixcelating piano keys in iridescent staccato. Like a scythe. It didn't matter which eye was open. There it was. Then after that I'd read things and there was a smudge in the way. The little one in the pic, the same color as the other one in the middle of my vision distorting only part of the words i was reading. And then the scythe came back a little closer in to the right side of my field of vision extending out and fluttering and finally sometime around closing my eyes (where it still appeared but was less distracting against a black background), taking aleve, lying down and listening to kill bill 1. it finally went away. WTF. Mom seemed to enjoy the camaraderie as she has visual migraines from time to time but anything new and possibly debilitating is so not cool with me right now. As my eyes were tired after, slightly headachy to boot and I can't say I feel particularly plucky this morning- even though there are places I can go, things to be crossed off the list.

In other news I've fully embraced quinoa as an awesome hearty grain, preparing it in vegetable broth is very tasty and so is mixing it with feta and cucumber- and dill and greens. The banana bread recipe hits the spot and now the only thing if we could have another thing is a scone recipe. There is still the waffle recipe and the pancake recipe to try also.

I will try not to make more cryptic references to "the letter" as I cannot possibly explain it here. But Pen you can explain however much you'd like to Andria. And this is a perfect segway to give props to callie who gets a total award for sending me a card that says exactly thee most perfect thing ever. Not that mom doesn't give me props for the chocolate attilla the bunny card from easter, but still. Cards do sometimes say it all. I'd lost faith, and yet there it is.

In other news before I go out to read in the sun, properly sprayed down for sun protection, i wanted to show you a pic of my innocent looking cat marley and then how if you scroll down i finally caught on camera the vicious attack he levied on my golden retriever. Bodo seemed to be glad of the attention, kind of? But still.

And in the sum of things, besides the migraine these are all good and true things, despite the nebulous, non productive week i've had.

see you in your dreams,

m.

m of my dreams,

Last night, N.Lo woke up around 3:30, convinced that his blankies were “all dirty.” Just a dream. (Funny, though, that dirty blankies are his nightmare.)

K.Lo dreamed about fairies, which is good, because she loves fairies.

And I dreamed… well granted, we can blame a) American Shaolin, which is about an American writer learning kungfu in China, b) The Amazing Race, which had a challenge this week related to noodles, and c) America’s Next Top Model, which I can only watch on hulu now, since direct tv does not have CW – I realize the girls went to New Zealand this week, but somehow my dream translated to Thailand. Because, you know, they once went to Thailand. Also, d) Survivor plays a small role, and possibly e) allergy medicine.

So we (you and me) are part of this travel group that may or may not related to modeling or picture taking. I don’t know. I just know there’s travel, and we’re running late, possibly not unlike Alaysia, who always runs late on Top Model. But we make it to our transportation in time, which is a long row of cars, and when I say long row, it’s like 5 cars lined up side by side, but they travel as one. Which gets hairy in a certain section of town, but we make it. They take us to the airport and then we head to Thailand, which may or may not be called New Zealand by the rest of us. I can’t confirm. But if it’s one of the countries, it’s definitely Thailand. Because of both the architecture and the fact that we’re fixated on a noodle shop across the street from our location (which suffers either a minor earthquake or a giant gust of wind just prior to our leaving), and those noodles are famous. They go for a dollar a cup. I say that I’ll buy us each a cup. So I go to do that, and you disappear. When I finally find you, you’re in this building (right next door to and possibly connected to the noodle shop) where you’re learning kungfu. The building is like a labyrinth inside and there you are, learning kungfu. Like flying and fighting and shit. I can’t tear you away, so I go eat my noodles. And then I have either more noodles and/or tea with some of the kungfu masters and the kitchen staff, and make you some. And you finally come to eat, and you’re like, all starry-eyed about learning the kungfu. Apparently you learned a certain style, and clicked with it, and you’ve decided to stay. STAY! Again you’re leaving me in a foreign country. It can’t be possible. I have to move on with the tour, and you’re staying behind because you believe it’s your destiny to learn this certain form of kungfu, which involves flying, twirling kicks. I should also mention that Ozzie, from a past season of Survivor, is there, and he’s like a national Kungfu star, or prodigy, or something. It’s a very strange background element that doesn’t play a large part, but there he is.

So anyway, I’m befuddled that you’re staying, and you’re so calm about it, and I'm just supposed to move on without you. I keep saying something – and now I can’t remember the line, but it was either really brilliant or really random. I say, “Your staying here is just like – x.” I can’t remember what x is, but whatever it was, you remained unmoved by the argument. And I was really concerned for some reason what would happen when I got home, like I wouldn’t have anywhere to stay, or something, and we had projects to finish together, but I can’t say what they were.

I cannot make this shit up. Where is your dream manual??

-pen

Penquint,

I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. So the letter you know, and the lady is like, what, i never said such and such, and this is all very standard such and such. And i see it completely differently and blah blah. It's like those scenes in those horror/suspense flicks where suddenly- the heroine reads the letter, (horrified, confused expression on her face), cut to a flashback of the scene, and you find out either that what the heroine thought was all a lie and that she is in fact doomed to the nuthouse- or once its confirmed she's crazy and she gives up then you realize after everyone has given up on her and the plot has turned toward the worse that she was in fact right all along and it was all these evil plot to get her to give up and stop fighting and investigating. Koo-Koo for Cocoa puffs!!

That's how i feel right now!
Ah well whatever, we'll see how it all plays out. Perhaps if i were to ascertain events I may take a pro/con column to see if I'm in a romantic comedy or a tragedy. My lack of a love interest indicates the latter. But we'll be pluckily optimistic for now. Which is so comedic of me to be. Maybe I'll wear something eccentric. But if i go out to pick flowers right now, which way is it going to lean. I'll have to pick my next steps very carefully.

m.

m-dacious,

I freakin’ love the snowball flowers. Here’s how our garden grows.

Well first there’s the tree that was knocked down by high winds yesterday. It’s still there, looking just like this until J.Lo can procure a chainsaw. We all knew that sucker was diseased and wasn’t going to last forever, and in fact, once it broke, we saw that it was maybe 75% deadwood. Hanging on by a thread. But still, it’s tragic. Yard desperately needs so more trees now. I wasn’t prepared to lose the side yard curb appeal so soon, but thank you Baby Jesus, for not letting it land on my car. That was very nice of you.

In happier news, the lantana is starting to flower. Pretty, happy lantana.

I have an actual cabbage patch! What is that all about? You might, in fact, be responsible.

 

The roses, after some stupidly gloveless pruning last week, are starting to flower.

The spinach from seed isn’t really spinach. Huh! It’s basil, from last year. Crafty basil, I missed you.

And then of course, there’s the Incredible Hulklike zucchini, eggplant and tomatoes. Bordered by chive insanity.

It’s time for mulch. The planter box flowers persist and I may or may not be OCD about deadheading, which I guess is what you’re supposed to do, but I don’t maintain any other habit with such gusto, so you know. That’s good.

Pen-

hey you! i was totally going to post and then i got distracted by the letter. its totally tragic about the tree by the way. does your city have a free tree program? granted mine is shade trees. but that would be awesome and cut the expense down. get some more blossoming things, nothing that will timber in the storm. and thank you BABY jesus! for not hitting penelope's car. also i kinda love the cabbage bed and i hope you eat the lettuce cuz why not. and totally responsible for the awesome. i'll take it! so below, the long lost acu photos. sitting on them- for-ever.

so here is the awesome medicine chest he never gives me anything from. i think he suspects that i'm a westerner and not hip to his healing ways. though i secretly yearn for mysterious concoctions to take i will not complain about his massage or bone crackin' ways as they are awesome. the acupuncture itself is a mystery but let me tell you my knee feels so much better. i think i need a little more circulation from my mid back to my quadricep (as he says that's where the problem lies) and he himself has a pragmatic? is that a word? view of it, saying well- maybe you should wear a brace on your leg- as if he doesn't believe that after 4 sessions i'm not fixed then maybe never? silly doctor. no. its going to take time. and i'm going to go back after a while when i start to feel more tweeked. the sinus headaches ive had this week have given me pause so maybe its time? eh, not yet. lets not rush to healing shall we. also below you'll see i finally coped to wearing the gown, which i hate. something that makes me feel vulnerable and sick? actually sick? its bad. but anyway at one point i might as well have leeches on me. i think from the suction cups and the pin pricks he actually did bleed me? I can't say for sure. I just know that for $60 i get almost 2 hours of attention- chiro adjustment, time to 'relax'? and a doctor who sometimes tells me how the body is connected. It's win/win.

m.

Carenelope,

So after the shittiest interview ever and some impassioned talking I went out and picked all these snowball blossoms and stuck them in a big luxurious mess into a big white vase. I feel pretty good about it. They're happy even when they fall to the ground.

I'm listening to sirius xm 'coffee house' right now, and later after all these ballads, and acoustic guitaring i'm going to settle in and watch damages s2. I have a sinus headache also which is right at the base of my neck and in my brow. Swimming didn't help it, but I am happy to note i am now at 271.5. Rock. Its a gorgeous day and i do feel slightly remiss at rejecting a walk around huntington gardens, but next time. I sat in my yard and talked some more and ate a popsicle. And the head pressure makes me feel exhausted and cave seeking as well. I've decided to read a murdershewrote novel. Thats about my speed right now. Otherwise who knows. Its a flat line, static sort of day in my head maybe. Dreams of your strawberry rhubarbab and contemplations of the tender unspoken parts of me. My unconventional existence.

m,

Have you noticed our post titles each month now form a sidebar poem?

My strawberry-rhubarb jam turned out delicious, but decidedly un-jamlike. Which disappoints. It’s more like jam sauce. Lots of jars of jam sauce. J.Lo pointed out it could be used for sundaes and scones, and I could just eat it with a spoon, too. I’m seriously considering it.

I’m riding the wave, the Crazy wave. Cried briefly when stung by boiling water. (Because it was so insulting! more than anything.) Considered a thousand ways to ship away the children this afternoon, came up empty-handed. They’re quietly playing Play-Doh for the moment, but we all know it won’t last. And then it’s like every little problem ($, jobs, what to make for dinner at night, whether people really like me, whether I really like people, which life-path to choose, what *really* happens after we die, whether petitions are really effective/just part of the GAME, why I insist on checking Facebook even though it’s pointless, the need/lack of desire to exercise more, the fact that I’ve unsubscribed to half my junk email and still get like a thousand junk emails a day, and finally, my torn respect for Parvati’s craftiness on “Survivor” vs. my strong desire to see her voted out, pronto) culminates and pokes at me like a thousand tiny skewers against my uber-sensitive thin skin.

Also, I hate both books that I’m reading. I mean, I like them both. I just don’t want to read them anymore because they’re both too much work.

See, told you the quiet wouldn’t last.

I await a letter to

pen

Sundrelope,

this is a magnificent and old japanese magnolia tree, right at the height of its bloom and so fragrant. a fav hans hoffman in the new modern wing

cath cannot keep her eyes open.

ah, hello misty.

red clump tree? something.something?

train waiting.

pear blossoms? at the river.

infamous tulips everywhere

my walk along the lake.
adler and field museum in the distance. more blossoms in millenium park. what, more tulips?! headed to rockbottom. but cath looks good in that wine colored scarf.

and our henna exploits. which after the cool darkness end up orange later.

ooo m,

I can feel The Crazy creeping up on me. I feel compelled to wear gray shirts and jeans, like I just want to blend in. With grungy colors. And hugs from children sometimes incite claustrophobia. Not always, just sometimes. And I want to be a hermit, not go anywhere, even yoga. No.socialization. I’m allergic.

And I get annoyed by small, picky things, like Idol running over (gah – Idol) and truncating my recording of Glee, so that I (apparently) missed Like a Prayer or somesuch song at the end. Bastard Time Warner Cable. I won’t be sad to see you go.

Also, we missed an appointment this morning (chiro) that J.Lo and I went back and forth on rescheduling, for three days. No, you call. I don’t want to call, you call. You better call, because I’m not going to call! Well, no one called, so we ended up looking scatter-brained and rude. (And yet, part of me doesn’t care? Because of The Crazy. The Crazy shrugs off rude, pretends it never happened.)

I want my Red Tent, dammit. I mean, so we have to right to vote and indoor plumbing. I guess that’s the tradeoff for us modern women? Cheap.

It’s raining today, which I sort of love, not just because it matches my mood, but because the plants will all get a good soak. And because I myself won’t have to go out there and water. The Crazy approves.

We picked strawberries yesterday, and they’re so tasty and I love them for being them, but I’m vaguely annoyed that they were all a day or two past ripe, so they’re on the brink of rot. Which is unfortunate when you buy a bucket and a half. Anyway, I made a sloppy batch of chocolate-covered strawberries, and had some others sliced up on my granola, and if I can get my hands on some rhubarb in the next day or two, there will be pie. Oh, yes, there will be pie.

The limoncello has turned glowy yellow and smells all limony. Snicket.

It’s time for Mario Kart, Wiiiiiiii! Woohoo.

peace out

pen

Peneloblossoms,

Hello friend, Here are the pics of the mural work and other craftyness. I was overall wanting to do something more precise or graphic in nature and not so dappled, but its not that i'm not pleased with the effect if that makes sense.

Penelofoods,

this is an incomplete record of chicago deliciousness. oddly the best dishes are not pictured. most notably the mediterranean salad, vitnamese awesome, and skirtsteak wonderment. apparently too overcome to photograph the high moments, these are odd inbetweens.

rice pudding from artopolis. cath has bagged a lemon tart.


homemade scramble and smoothie goodness... the notnamed italian cafe- was pretty good despite everything.

almond bark... too much chocolate hangover

iced tea and the vision of all good friends and their futures...

post massage wanderings before i hydrated with water.

embracing the apple as big as my face. it took me a few hours though.

mahi tacos and caths gigantic taquitos quintessential chicago dog before i headed home.