buggin

Here in the southeast, there is a bug for every season, I recently shared with M--a literal bug. Spring is the season for tick-abundance, and like freckle posers or ends-of-sentences they appear on your skin as if they can escape your constantly editing eye. Or else they burrow in the dogs and have a feast, dislodge themselves and waddle away, brainless and dumb, off to provide a feast for birds or, in a decidedly lesser contribution to the circle of life, a horrifying squish experience for your bare foot.

Summer is mosquitoes, wasps and, toward the end, deer flies. Itchy, oppressive and mean as the heat itself. You fight them with toxic sprays and swatting hands and running feet, but ultimately you just have to endure their existence until the cool arrives, providing them an expiration date and you a sigh of relief.

Fall brings the stink bugs, brown and shield-shaped, and seeking a warm home. In spite of their unfortunate name, I have yet to encounter the actual stink, perhaps because my research came to me in advance of any encounter and I know better than to kill them. I simply ferry them from their place on the curtains and walls and window screens back outside. To me, these are the least offensive of all the bugs, because they are just there. Hanging out solo or in groups. Minding their own business, not attacking, and maybe more importantly, not scurrying.

Which brings me to winter and the bugs that are not bugs - mice. Every year we have at least two, appearing for the same reason as their predecessors (warmth), but these I cannot abide. Perhaps they tap into my deep-seated anxiety toward balloons and biscuit cans: the element of suspense, surprise. Or else I'm intimidated by a cleverness and physicality that can lead them, in spite of blindness, toward the darkened depths not in, but behind, a dishwasher.

Are these creatures questionable mascots for each season, a reason to wish the time away? Or are they simply what is there, a defining attribute or buggy backdrop to the scene...

lao-tong

i more than disagree- if disagree means "no". what i feel about equating what i've spent the last 5 years of my life doing with a demonic and/or occasionally hoax like farcical practice that is the ouiji board, can be more accurately described as slightly offended with a main course of that hurts my heart. granted you're not out right telling me to fuckoff, and i appreciate the honesty which is why how can i possibly rail- that's where you're at. it's what you're feeling. i mean yes, i would remind you that the words my mom got and prayed for you weren't demonic, or made up or entirely hers, and they seemed at the time to minister to you- but maybe i misunderstood. i mean leave me out of it entirely and I know God will continue to minister and care for you, but it is a way to cultivate a deeper relationship with God, and it's true i have to resist control, but let me just acknowledge the divide it creates, and the disappointment over something that can't be shared and infact in an instant is being rejected. It hurts. Also though it may not seem like it- since i am seen as a usually very forceful person- sharing something like that with you, and trying to open the door to a large part of my life and going so far as to practice it with you was me being vulnerable-- and excited and expectant.

And that's my own balloon, and the air escaping it and whining out. So I have to take responsibility for it. And that's not yours. But as you sit with your anxiety and worry over the unnamed things. I sit with mine as well for you, on your behalf, along with my ownbags on the curb. And that is not just entirely yours.  I see the trapped and fluttering distressed thing. I share it with you because I love and care for you. Our stories are never are own. They reach out beyond us. As they should. They are not for us. We cannot accurately see ourselves anyway. We are all entwined. And that speaks just as much to covenant and community too. A book apparently i am already a chapter behind on.

Currently, unrelated, i managed to make a necklace. I take this as major breakthrough, and I hope tricia likes it. Besides we are being assailed with hot weather. I'm drinking an unpleasant blackberry jasmine tea or some such and i'm going to go watch the end of miss marple's 'a murder announced', and just the other night a giant raccoon snuck in the backdoor to eat the cat food. The nerve. I wonder if he's what's killing our lawn. A giant spreading patch.

Otherwise the bedframe is 1/2 stained. The room is 1/2 done along with everything else everywhere. But it seems like it's getting on. With every hedge i trim, and angel trumpet i manage to plant. Seems like something is happening. The peaches are delicious. And the abandoned bags of grapefruit in my car make it smell really good. And i did almost cry when danica wondered where all my dresses had got to, but i can only assume God has ones that fit me in store for me. Or he doesn't- and i'll have to make do.

Good night dear friend. Goodnight.
m.



 

allo allo

Welcome to the summery days of little peace. Last night K.Lo had a sleepover and I was smart this time about ending it early today on a good note, rather than dragging it out to the point of (my) insanity. They always wake up a little off-kilter and before you know it, not only is the puppy across the street with her eff-you-I-can't-hear-you ears on, but one child is being bopped by another with an inner tube and screaming ensues. Be kind, people, be kind. And wear shoes while bike-riding, and a helmet too. 

I feel like it's been forever since my last correspondence, although I continue to write you letters in my mind and wonder why you don't receive them. Have we not worked out all the bugs in our telepathy program yet? They keep landing in your eyes, I think! The dead ant was horrifying, by the way, and the whole peach-picking attack. What an insult! Kind of like the epic battle with fruit flies I've been fighting in both the kitchen and my car, not to mention the miniscule ants and that terrible winged thing I saw by the sink this morning. Oh, July. 

I'd say it's my least favorite month, and maybe it is, but not really. There' are always silver linings, such as an almost anonymous ninja's visit! Which rocked. Although I hope we weren't too grumpy for her. J.Lo's sciatic nerve is fully pinched and its pain and inconvenience continue to radiate through all of us. However, we all enjoyed a lot of downtime and some driveway fireworks along with water balloon target practice. And some mini-tours through town. 

The white and purple calla lilies are blooming and the brown-eyed susans have unfurled. But don't clip those and arrange in a pitcher, as they will soon become wilty and sad. Not unlike myself in the humid-blanket-like heat. We're drawing straws on who gets to mow the front yard (I think I lost). I'll be taking care of that at dusk. 

Also my shipment of succulents (THANK YOUUUUU!!!) has taken up temporary home on the back pork, where they're growing roots before planting. I have a location all picked out, on the previously overlooked side-porch, although I might have to play puppy police there for awhile. Because some furry creatures have destructive agendas toward new plantings. Their names rhyme with Loafie, even though she is anything but. 

I haven't been Listening. I know. I'm not sure it's for me, like I can't help feeling like I'm playing on a Ouija board, though I know you'd completely disagree. But my mind just can't accommodate its possibilities at the moment. Too full. Too worried. To which you'd say, duh, it's the perfect time then. But I have to go about it in my own way, right now. (Uh-oh, I can already hear you railing in response!) 

But I do feel like, in spite of my resistance to the marriage book, I'm learning some things or absorbing some ideas anyway, about love. The daily work of love-as-action, in spite of what you're feeling. Important not only as a spouse, but as parent, friend, teacher. And yet sometimes so hard to execute... 

I hope you spot your fish soon, little pelican. Let's phone-chat soon! 

xoxox

pen

poor smurfy,

Talk about a mental fog. Today is the first day in a long while (as far as I know, snarf) that mine feels relatively lifted. And like my body is my own again, not some drained, feeble, tingling thing. So. Weird. Why all of a sudden, why today. Will it return? What did it all mean. I barely feel like overanalyzing it (for now).

I forgot to mention that the other day I was stuck in a K.Lo closet, the book-nook one, while she cleaned her room (overseeing is sometimes required) and I decided to read the 50 States book. Put together in '96, it listed the Oklahoma City bombings as the worst terrorist act on record and then for NY, there was the WTC, still intact. Aside from that surreality, it was like ah, fact book. I mean obviously it only gives you the bare-bones basics of each state and it's a kids' thing, but at the same time it was kind of nice to present one's brain with a finite amount of information. Like I could go on a webpage and traverse ads and fact after fact after fact, not to mention a million rabbit holes I would surely fall into, as this fact made me think of that fact, and what else could I look up. It's an awesome thing. But then, ah, fact book. So nice and simple. And possibly much more memorable, and therefore meaningful.

Does Lifetime really stream? I must investigate. Bravo does not, so I just assumed I'd be sol for ProRun, just like Top Chef, which is attainable by J.Lo for sure, but it does require reminding and prodding and transferring of files - so labor intensive! is all I'm saying. Not that it's not worth it, for those few elusive but adored shows.

Today was more crafty assistance; I really like this years' decorations. Not that I didn't last year, it's just somehow they're coming together better this year, with less turmoil, and are so bright and almost splashy. A faux marble wall lined with paper torches! An entryway sign shaped like the Parthenon! And things like that.

Here is the type of thing Sophie does. Wii Remote on Back Porch, a still life.

This was from last week on a day when it was wicked hot. I felt very melty that day; so did the dogs. 

The garden snack bar fare. I think the peas will be done soon, but total success for them! Last year we literally had two peapods. This year we had plenty for snacking and enough for a stirfry. Next up, cucumbers and some okra, which I still have to replant after the puppy attack. (Notice the theme here.)

This is how the planterbox looks lately! The morning glories are creeping up a trellis, as well as a hummingbird plant of some sort. Notorious fungus gnats (result of initial overwatering) have been slayed by cinnamon. Also nearby, cilantro has sprouted. 

Lastly, Sophie the rainbow-sword warrior. 

Holy Hell,

I'm in a mental fog.

I've tipped my frozen coffee upside down so that when it thaws i can mash it up in this big plastic cup.  A haze of maybe trying to digest meat, the curse, and the warmth out has me absolutely knackered. The other day, out of a need to be productive, i even gave myself bangs. The hair is in that weird notshortnotlong phase. And i had to stop myself from hacking it all off. Just to do something. I need to actually go for a long run or? wait, rephrase walk/jog or something. And stop watching reruns of Monk, gaining a pound losing a pound, and I'm on the last chapter of Gears. And I can't beat it yet. That's what I get for playing on "hardcore" mode. Oh life. I can fit into the ring my grandmother gave me. So there's that. (17 years later)

Otherwise I fixed the yellow streak problem so now its a blue streak problem with the floor, but we're going to leave it like the watery dream it is. I painted my nails, cleaned out a hutch and moved it into the car using a series of bells, whistles and levers. I stopped short of actually taking it over to the other house. And yet I daily accuse myself of doing and accomplishing nothing but that when i list things, like washed dishes, moved the silver and linens it seems something must've been done.  And yes, last night i checked the oven twice- twice mind you, literally to see if i left anything- and sure enough- the smurf. As my mom pointed out, I caught it right as it was collapsing and changing from a plastic to a liquid state- and yes, it smelled super awesome. For hours. And while I almost decided to continue cooking the pizza i decided plastic infused pizza was less stellar than i thought.

So you see shit like this can happen at anytime. Something to consider. But i understand you're being pushed to the edge, and i can feel it around me too when i think of the bills coming in July. Yes, I can charge them but I'd prefer God point the way to some employ. But the feeling is trapped, and it's terror, and it makes me not want to slow but keep going and GO. But there is something to staring at stuff until you can grab a thread and just pull, and the next thing breaks lose and unravels. Yes, indeed. And to worship. The things God has pointed the way for you to do. The things that you love to do. And then my next prayer, give me the desire to worship- when i just sit there and can't quite find the energy to do anything at all. Did i tell you the other day i was making iced tea into a pitcher and it cracked it right in lateral half. That was lame.

Oh about ProRun- jlo i assume knows about programs that keep people from spying on you- and you can go to either piratebay or isohunt- even if you dont have that thing it utilizes utorrent which you can download-- now if you don't want to go through all of that shenaniganism it's quite easy-- http://www.free-tv-video-online.me/  now it's a pop-up minefield but once you navigate that you're home free friend. I think though even pro/run has a streaming thing on lifetime so you've got options.

Allright i'm going to go open a window and let the breeze in. Play some more and look for a thread to pull.

xo,m.

and my comp has crashed like 3x trying to load photos and post this. sob.

 

 

 

 

 

 

dear melter of smurfs,

Really, what on earth was that gak-like substance melted in your stove? Bet it smelled awesome!

Well so here I am. Right eye twitching and occasionally leaking out the far corner. It's Set Up for Vacation Bible School week. Which does tap into my crafty spirit, although the marble wall did thwart me. Yesterday we made a well out of a table wrapped in last year's paper brick wall, and I rimmed the top edge in sand and thinned-out glue.

I'm in that phase of feeling like Facebook is impossibly stupid, full of inconsequential drivel, so I either need to change whoever's showing up in my feed or stick to the short-short list (because I don't want to miss out on gak, that's the good stuff) or just not check it so much at all.

There's a very good chance I'll finish the book I'm reading, which is not even the usual fluff-fare. Amazing. I feel all bookish again. And I'm excited that we've picked another book to read together!

Three weeks without satellite dish and I miss it not at all. Hulu and Netflix together are more than adequate (I say until ProRun premieres. How did you access that??)

I've painted my toes two weeks in a row and have been wearing borderline cute clothes, maybe to make up for my complete lack of chutzpah. It's raining a lot, so as to invite children's loudness and puppy's boredom and also garden soil's fungus gnats. J.Lo is having an especially bullshit time at work, fixing an impossibly long list of broken things. And let's not forget that terrible daily puzzle of tingling limbs and lost words and whether or not I'm actually losing my mind. That'd be nice to solve. But right now I could really use some pretzels.

Over here in Left-Field,

The dulcet tones of Gears of War 3 on pause is playing the background. No really it's quite soothing. Like, aw, it's bedtime, or going up in a really classy non-musak elevator that leads you to some haunted desolate place of yore. Yesterday I played through a chapter where my character's BF dies. I totally started crying. It was all sorts of traumatic. The story was definitely pointing you in that direction but you just still hate to see it happen. You want them to make it. It's rough being a remnant of civilization still trying to hangon against these creatures... but you have a leering suspicion that the monster was you. It was you all along. It's a story long told- not unlike Forbidden Planet, and the Heart of Darkness-- the thing that we are fighting and the thing that is destroying us, from within and without the earth is our own creation. I also got to fight zombies- they added a twist like nuclear radiation type- that glow and explode. Good times.

It's the fall of man, and hard to be our own legislators of the good and designating what is of the bad. The game will just be silly if there's no redemption song. This whole thing makes me want to listen to Johnny Cash.

Nevermind.

Hours have past/passed. Like no longer exist. Like going by. Since this paragraph.

I'm alternating between water and coffee. It's the 2nd day in a row that i thought i'm too exhausted after THIS conversation to go to homedepot/tj's/and ralphs. Trifecta of shopping efficiency. Not that the conversations themselves were bad. But there was something taxing- like when you're fighting to articulate, to come to a common ground- to get them to see what you're saying.  And they're screaming sub-text at you. I told one person about the marriage things- keep in mind she's been married for a long long time- and she was like don't get your hopes up- or something horrible to that effect after i listed #7 for her- as if i was a. making this up or reading too much into it? or b. that it could mean anything. be about anything. I was like, well, clearly it's about marriage- As you know for the record my friend on Jeju sent this to me saying she loved it so much i had to read it- without knowing about #1-6. She said she had in mind to send this to me a couple months ago- and that further kerry said i was literally 4th in bringing up the book to her within 2 weeks. I explained it was not my fault. 

 

I guess i have more books to read now besides Parade's End. Which is rather bleak at the outset. Not knowing what's coming besides the war, which England was particularly heavily traumatized by, and bleak enough without illustrating the individual will struggling. And anyway, at least i have other friends whom are used to God working miraculously and are expectant, like I am, about what on earth God is up to- even if it doesn't end in me married. We're having fun over here in parts of LA about the humor and unmistakableness of SIGNS... i mean seriously. WHAT THE WHAT.

 

Other than that watching Thorne and Pippa just reminded me how horribly selfish i am and how i wanted to get back to my projects, though there was repeated mostly adorable behavior of these young human beings- for instance Pippa had a rough go at one point friday night, and was totally PTS about saturday night and Thorne came in exclaiming how loud she was, crying. I said, do you want to sing to her? Just as a suggest. And suddenly she started singing 'rock abye...' which by the way- totally bleak as a song- and i cut her off like a door slam and said, no sing that song you were singing all day- 'to God be the Glory- cuz every 4 1/2 year old goes around singing hymns and insisting on listening to songs that are "beautiful" like classical music!? so She starts singing and Pippa immediately stops, calms down, and within 1 minute was snoring on my shoulder. Thorne turned to leave and said, if she starts crying again, I'll come in and sing again, ok? OK.

 

In another letter i'll go on about the weekend blowbyblows. But for now, here are a few photos of more in progress nonsense-- 

oh ps #2



#5

 

carryON: Note the canvas to the left and paint box ready to go, the mantel will be totally cleared, and on the right Joanna's bench, the cross mom made me that she thought was "me" and my awesome statue of st. francis.

 here next to the couch is my grand-dads old navy chest. or rather army he was in- and the bottom is army green but now it's a navy chest. i dont understand. some old hiking clothes and shoes of his are in there too- and the original ship to, label.

 here we are with "teal forest"... i went with the green tint over a blue tint... then i'm going to intro black stone floor, a greenish stone shower stall and possibly a twist of ? for the counter top-- uncertain. the walls will be a moss color of some kind.

 ah the space to paint... literally moving each of these plants exhausted me and the roots of this one on the table were weaving through the wood planks...

 still not quite clear but close.

 before the powerwasher broke? uncertain-- but my what a difference.

 followed by a lovely teak oil SOAK. ah luxury. this bench above is now at the parents. the long bench is under the tv.

 

 

 

 

 

m.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

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. 

dearest,

You are transforming before our very eyes! A-mazing.

Camping was good. In spite of the following laundry list of Things That Happened:

*J.Lo threw out his back/shoulder.

*bug bites galore – nothing worked, not the homemade experiment of mine, not the laden-with-poison brand, not the anything in between.

*N.Lo scraped the bottoms of his toes while swimming and couldn’t walk for a day – by which I mean he screamed bloody murder if we so much glanced in the direction of his feet.

*late Sunday night I took K.Lo back to our tent for bed and a 4-foot black snack was crawling UP the entranceway mesh – I mean. yes. that really happened. I immediately dispatched a small crew to do away with thing, never thinking that it would end up dead, but apparently it got a little defensive and so that’s how it ended. 

Otherwise, no-yes, I do love camping. Saturday night was indeed packed full of campers, but the camping culture is basically chill and there’s something about meandering through the sites and the pop-ups with their little porch lights. and the stars and the campfires and the night sounds and everyone just doing their own thing. ah.

I like this campsite less than fairystone because the trails aren’t as awesome – or are they. We haven’t yet had a chance to explore, between swimming and whateverelsewedo. But the pet fee is sooo much less. Tradeoffs.

I’m reading (finished soul-selling, also another dishy YA, am onto a 9/11 book by my favoritest author EVER). I’m sewing – okay planning to sew. something. can’t decide? daydreaming about hammocks in the shade. avoiding FB bcs I’m in that phase of it’s-all-too-much, establishing my leadership with the new church council and attempting not to overthink it. which as you know for me is virtually impossible. and still dodging the phone number bullet, in spite of best efforts by the neighbor to lure us in to her drama. it’s one of those things that aggravates my “helping a neighbor” instinct – but no excessive drama allowed. like you know that line between someone who is in need and someone who really wants to be in need? I just can’t abide the latter and put up a wall to block it out. so when she comes a-knockin’ with her histrionics and asks J.Lo – who as we previously noted threw out his back – to help pick up her husband who fell, I’m more annoyed than sympathetic. which is sort of terrible and yet? gut instinct is that she’s clamoring for attention and not truly in need of help. gut instinct is that this is toxic and bullshit and a gateway to her calling in the middle of the night with worse “problems.”

so anyway it sort of delighted me that j.lo grumpily advised, “um, if you need to call an ambulance, call an ambulance.”

and did she? no. she found some other neighbors to drama-snare, and apparently everything was fine because not 10 minutes later she was walking her dog up the street. by herself. husband apparently inside and well.

gut instinct. just saying.

the garden is growing, including the encroaching and never-subsidable grass, as someone (me) forgot to layer newspaper below the mulch. need more tomatoes, some cucumbers and possibly corn. but where to put it all, hmm.

bookclub wants to read 50shades for july and I’m digging in my heels.

also. I’ve been fake-recycling since we’ve lived here? as discovered yesterday. and am still puzzling over why j.lo never mentioned that there’s no place to sort plastics, papers and glass.

I might have been enraged over this realization, briefly. or for a whole day.

um anyway. I need to freshen up the hummingbird sugar-water and boil up some weed killer. and sew another pair of shorts. or something? and other summertime things that i try not to loathe but just do.

love you,

pen

jesus almost lost his head, A Note From M

my parents came home at 11am and made lunch yesterday. they seemed to think it was perfectly ordinary. but true enough they didn't eat dinner until 6. and 7 hours seems too long to me between meals. i mean snacking could be regarded as evil but is it? i guess it depends. but whatever. i meant to tell you sooner but i received a few things in the mail. 2 postcards from cathy proving she was infact in boston. i don't remember her telling me about going to boston at all. it does explain her not returning my email all weekend previous and her subsequent text saying "i'm in portsmith"... but seriously she didn't tell me. and portsmith could've been a pub. and i was like hello, i miss you! even though it had only been 3 days.

and then i got a wee package from you. a little shoddily wrapped considering what was inside. ahem. i mean it IS a little icon of jesus. like you thought by merely putting it in plastic bubbles it would come to me unscathed but there's this ominous crack at his collar line. like 20 years from now you know it's going to fall or something and his head will go rolling and people will start screaming and i'll assure them it can be glued back on and that it's not some harbinger of doom. he is the awesomest little jesus ever. i'm sure he'll be fine. he is my absolute most favorite ever. and i'm so very glad he's here. next time you have to sign his foot though.

besides that i've been trying to jar myself out of lethargy. i've only managed to go walking 2x a week for the last 3wks which is an improvement from 0. i suppose now would be the time to try for 3x a week. yesterday i unsuccessfully wrote a blog and went to a 4th of july party to spend with my dear friend danica. as in reality i sat at my desk staring into space, almost took a nap which for me is a portent of low bloodsugar or serious illness. i did manage not to spend any money and tried to fend off the thought that i'll never find/look for/be hired for a job again. by the end of a marathon of watching damages on netflix and eating too many bingcherries i managed to finish a bracelet and redo my lenten necklace almost, oh and make sure no one set lolly on fire. of course mom was worried about the highly flammable eucalyptus being set on fire but they were fine. hispanic peeps love fire works. just like american peeps. but we 3rd and 4th generations feel more beholden to the law that says they are ILLEGAL here. which is a damn shame. where as even on christmas down in CENAM they were going off regularly...so you know the sort of light show i had not 2 houses down from me/all around me people thought spending money on explosives was the right thing to do. i have to agree even if marley and turtle spent most of the night in nervous combat crawl mode. mortimer to his streetcred' remained completely calm. so in the case with all the 1st and 2nd generation devil may care pyros the police can only do so much and that's a mostly good thing just this once.... God Bless America. 

in closing, you can tell by the picture taken last week that my posture hasn't changed much. though i did do laundry. and those are the canvases i'm suppose to be working on. but nevermind. i hope your weekend by the lake and waterbyways was splendid.

m.

notes from home,

i'm listening to a song by the cults called 'go outside' on satellite. i've finished my tea and chocolate and pondering another early bed, had too much fruit today and no greens... it is summer. blackberries with honey yogurt for breakfast, watermelon for lunch, pineapple for dinner, bing cherries, and yes fresh sun warmed plums in btw. i was about to say i resented the outside but now a song by bravery is playing called 'this is not the end'... it's hard to complain when song titles are drilling into the depth of your paralysis. when all the good things are there blooming in the sun, and even your lowered insurance premium of $644 is a breath of fresh air- even if you still can't afford it. even if i am still waiting for the ax to fall- for the now still continued insurance claim to say no sorry, your time has run out. but it miraculously hasn't. 2 1/2 years later. i wish i knew freedom in it, i wish it didn't suck me under in intervals. i pop back up with a renewed sense of resolve but the more time that passes, pen, the harder it gets to have courage of something else but what i know- which is interminable waiting. and yet change must come. and i think will i be ready for it. will it have beaten me after all and i'll have failed to look or see the escape hatch open. or failed to learn anything at all in the interim. i think Lord, given the state of things this is what the world will say about me- no, Lord, even, this is what I say about myself. what do you say?

the silversun pickups is playing 'the royal we'. and in the meantime what damage. is.

i'm reminded of that landscape i had from '05-'07 where i was floating in the stagnant waters of the amazon and now i'm in an overdone black victorian outfit, ok exquisite, and making my way down an endless flight of stairs with sheer cliffs and a black chasm to my right. presently, the world when i look out of my windows is a portal to heaven, but looking the other direction i just think of krietz in the jungle muttering, the horror, the horror. i know this is the common complaint of man. existing in the tension of being an immortal being on a mortal plane. of knowing hope and yet seeing despair so close.and as this old dude named dubay said, we are incarnate thirst. we grow slack and wane without beauty, companionship and light. dull-witted maybe, cavernous. i don't know what else he said about it because i haven't finished the cd yet, and yes in the meantime,

i'm too busy glossing my dry lips to scream much.

but that is what keeps occuring to me to do. but my soul as she descends is too busy with her footing and catching her hair in the breeze. my spirit maybe or is it my projected self, in the identical but gold outfit on the castle parapet- she knows, she's released doves in Gods direction. she asks from where does my help come from? she paces. she is relentless in her worry. she knows the supplies are low and she is mercilessly distracted. my actual self here and now- the last few days- is staring at the blue skies of paintings not yet completed. she is not sure how the days pass and all the flowers outside illuminate a world she is reminded, is just for her, but she won't go outside except to pick plums. there is nothing productive about her, but looking for things to throw away.

though i am trying to practice better handwriting. and maybe tomorrow i'll go for a walk. there is too much a war within to do ought else.

m.

Dear Penpace,

I have the restlessness of the recovering. Pacing the cage with no where definite to go or direction to set off in. A vague apprehension I've missed the planting season and won't have anything to yield come harvest. Thus assuring me doom. My interior castle took on water. There was a violent storm and the girl in gold has collapsed, luckily face up in the water. The other girl on the steep mountain had to come down to assure the one in gold she was going to be ok. But it's not clear on how much was understood since she was unconscious.

Besides strange dreams and landscapes, I've slept through the night the last few. The trajectory of the downslope- gross things about slightly pitted skin, scabs and copious amounts of ointment...not whincing and saying breath prayers for unconsciousness. And besides photographing the journey, I'm reading a historical romance- a monk forbidden love a girl named celia- centuries later the two come together again... to contrast i'm also reading a book on chaos theory. I've just got through the section on fractals and now we're talking fluid dynamics and the problem of turbulence. Reminds me of when i was in school and the constant exchange of ideas were swirling around me. Ah, nevermind. Let's not romanticize learning and school. Pshaw.

As a sidenote have you tried ear protection for when you vacuum? Or mow the lawn. Or even noise canceling headsets... I have a pair and it does make it all better. They really should make those things more stealth like. It's enough that my computer has a loud hum to it and when i leave my dvd player plugged in it cycles on and whirrs. Most annoying.

Well nevermind. I'm full from pineapple and am vaguely sympathetic about the fish situation and obviously at this moment sort of glad to be single. The whole thing sounds terrifying. And also speaking of animals Mortimer hasn't quite got the hang of the hunting thing. I mean he caught a mourning dove and it looked like it was bearing up under its death well but sort of humiliated by the presence of Marley who clearly thought Mortimer was bungling the job. Which he was-- trying to bite at it, while it was still quite alive and not finishing the bird off fast and efficiently. Feathers everywhere. All of it unsightly. And i feeling as if i'd come to late to be of any use but to shake my head at the whole state nature and the fall. I apologized to the bird all day.

m.

Pear, n.

I'm in my pajamas and the night is restless around me. It is perhaps the latte or the ricekrispie square coursing through me, or the buck moon, or the way the bubbles of air swirled in the water as my hand swept by while swimming. It is some summer night of yearning. A contemplation of nearly missed genius, or magic, or opportunity unrealized. But something hums within. And wants more. Maybe it is me in motion and everything static around me. It's not warm enough here for that. Perhaps I'm losing momentum. Or like an unfamiliar turn in the road that you travel all the time, you wonder at the last moment if you should turn. Also we have no fireflies.

Maybe I'll paint my nails or read. There were two netflix of note- max and mary which was awesome claymation of a really unlikely and poignant friendship and another called in one day- english, where not much happened but something definitely did happen. And episode 2 of s4 of 'the guild'. The girl mentions that she didn't know she was suppose to vacuum the inside of her computer and i laughed bcs that is exactly what i did for mine. It doesn't make loud noises now on start up. It's pretty amazing if I hadn't said. And this morning I bought a lightbulb for Lollys taillight. I feel accomplished- now if i can bring myself to find a small wrench to use I might even fix the problem completly.

I wish I got to see you soon. That's part of it. The days are slipping by. Week 2 come and gone of the job. The heel still hurts but not as bad. The shoulder still aches but not so nearly as before. And somewhere in btw all of these small things we'll come together. It's ok. We'll wait. I have the beadshow Thursday. The word europa to contemplate. Things to meditate. At least 3 lists. A prayer thing to go to on friday so i can get some shirts for my volunteers for the project on saturday at path. people/assisting/th/hmless. Now that I have 2 people signed up i don't want to drop the ball. Also i need to see the space. I have not. I don't even know what they need. I don't even know how i came to this moment. Also i'm trying not to hold a grudge against the person who stole the sunflower out of the churchlot by its roots. I hope they were drunk or high or happy and it was some light of Christ come carrying them home. And that they dropped to their knees and knew that the sunflower meant something entirely other. i wonder sometimes also, unrelated, about doing a blog on each prayerwalk, as they are seperate adventures that i maybe imagined over experienced. There's one tomorrow. And yoga to fit in. And the necklaces to ponder.

I've got to go.

m.

Dear Pen,

oh summer. pen. enclosed please find the last vestages before God's provision for me snatched me from the depths of what while looks completely blissful is really an undercurrent of complete pennilessness. i wanted to buy one of these are their the underskirts for the sari's... but we didn't. cuz the lady was all like, those you don't wear on top or whatever. pretty colors!

this is thorne trying something that danica reviled and i tolerated. this milky almond thing. yum says thorne. YUM.
a diversion took us by this giant auto man. it was totally worth it. here i am spending the last $8 i have on really tasty burger and fries. so content. so tasty.
ok i may have bought a frap too.
but really the staple of the summer :
and here's a random shot of me in clogs as the heel problem has driven me to their comfort.
and this is part of the great organization project that almost drove me to the brink. good thing i finished before my job. and the job saved me from doing the garage. so win/win.

here i am really optimistic on my first day of work... sort of? i mean i think i look slightly hopeful?
oh also i totally met the other ice cube guy! must tell you about him later!has anyone seen clockwatchers? this is the monkey. i found it in my cubicle.

oh tuesday, tuesday was hopeful. wednesday however... phew. was rough. and it was hot. and man... phew.thursday was a little bit better, calm through the storm... sort of thing. then i went to the prayer thing for reality LA and my dress was completely uh, too revealing- so i fashioned my tanktop into a scarf? i hear its the fashion. here i am owning my fashion...oh and here is my sunflower in the church lot. i went by today and it was gone. i really think somebody took it... but they left the other one that hadn't bloomed yet? i dont know. whatever. my fault for planting it too close to the street. pretty sunflower. you live on in pictures. here's me on friday... so as you can see summer to office life. . . pretty rivoting. i'll try to keep you abreast of the latest developments like meeting icecube guy and how i'm avoiding going to my cousins dads funeral... maybe. we'll see.

my love,
m.

Penelope,

This week i'd been fighting off that, I don't have a job and have 5wks to make x amt of money, apprehension. (humming and bubbling right below the surface) Totally distracting and lame. Sometime around wednesday I also forgot to call into JuryDuty. So that as I was suppose to report on thursday and I failed to do so, and realized it only after i read staci's blog about how she was dutifully calling in to juryduty... Which means I now have to call on sunday, for monday... i don't know if that starts me to a whole new week? Or just the two days I lapsed on. I think that would be too optimistic. It sucks because i made it from friday last all the way till wed, then poof out of my head it went. Then yesterday beyond hope I got a 7wkgig@E! It is a lowly PA position most likely going nowhere in the middle of nofreewayland. But oddly not panic inducing. More like a great, lets go, sort of feeling. And now of course I may call to reschedule the jury thing till post gig. Besides that I did manage to get an etsyshopup after 4 years, but now what? Why has no one bought anything. Also shipping policies freak me out. (haven't done) But at least with the 7weekgig I can now pay my autoinsurance and afford the gas to go up to SB to collect more seaweed? And the $60 acu session i charged on tuesday... as that crick in my shoulder never abaited. Its sore but seems on the mend, but my heel of course, he said the muscle was twisting. Today i bought some sports tape. Tightness however is an artform i have not mastered, which induced a limping around hollywood and cutting of my circulation scene. And does that mean i should lay off the walking for a while? It seems to be one little thing after another. It has inspired me to wear my clogs, which aren't perfectly shaped like my holland clogs, but they'll do bean,they'll do. Maybe I could take a chisel and make them larger inside. Which is a benefit of wood shoes. Right now i'm eating a popsicle (or 2). Danica and i survived our prayerwalk through the city. But now no more outings unless we get up ridiculously early or stay out late. What to do. Summer plans laid to waste in an instant. We did find a cheap healthy food place and tried a judo something or other infusion taco truck off sunset, and stopped in for coffee at an independent place on vine. We also ran into a tour guide named vern we'd met from before. So if it be a last hurrah then it didn't go badly.

Besides that operation organize has tanked my energy. Normally I have an unflagging vigor in regards to such projects but this week its been pulling teeth. Where i stare at a box for an hour, come back later, move something, take another break, think about it all over again. It's agonizing. My trying not to look at the whole thing with a complete air of futility and yet still. But I must not be all or nothing. This will help in the end. This restructuring. Lately I've had a tiny bit of sympathy for mom in this ridiculously small house with no storage space. And dad having squeezed her out of the garage. Which must be bigger than our house proper. But why fight for space you don't want to live in. It's like my reluctance to live in the bathroom. Still haven't moved in by the way. (just now emptied a box in there while talking to cath) We don't necessarily need large spaces. My dream though is for an uncluttered one. And thank God for the space i do have. But must keep getting rid of things. Even if i won't part with variously silly things.

Also if i werent' selfabsorbed i'd make you a congrats for staying off FB for 5 hours postcard. But as it is i'm too wrapped up in my anxiety (farmtown playing) and worrying if all this summer food of grilled bbq chicken, corn and watermelon is going to catch up with me. (Probably not.) Oh and the bing cherries. My absolute favorite. And there was that earthquake and the strange overcast mornings in the middle of july. It's positively temperate. A curious summer. And that guy who puts flyers on peoples cars in their driveway. Is it wrong of me to want him chased of properties with a gun? As it is i almost hit him with my car as he seeming like he was about to pass out from the heat and effort staggered across my path with his stolen shopping cart. Which he was going to retrieve from my streetside parking space. He probably lamented that I had not arrived earlier, as he couldn't flyer my car.

I've got to get more to drink and advance onward to the laundry room. Which one day will house the vacuum cleaner, broom and have space for the ironing board. Should i ever own one. We do now but they're in ridiculous places and i wont talk about it. And tomorrow is the prayer people comin' on over. I have no ice. or bacon... but we'll cobble something together. I think.

m,out.

warm weather, a list

Good

greenery

garden

less layers for children, less time to get out the door

flip-flops

popsicles

outdoor play, lots of it

 

Bad

shorts

sun block (one more layer for children, more time to get out the door)

soon-to-be-oppressive heat

need a/c

bugs

snakes

water bill

Ugly

car becomes an oven

bug bites

inevitable rash from flip-flops

power bill

The Last of Summer Garden Review, M

we didn't have any pumpkin harvests this year or summer squash and our peach tree finally died after 20+years of service. overall it's been a lovely but offkilter summer. the garden looks great but i forgot to plant the zinnias and i let the weeding go something fierce. mom is valiantly battling snails but i just look out upon the unwieldy garden and sigh and think about tending to it in the fall maybe. i haven't even had the heart to mulch. but look at that dahlia! my it's glorious. and we have red ones too. not to mention the sunflowers- tried and true.