to tula

- and her missed presence, her web-spun perfection. The made-up but delightful word "carcai." To lost things and spring, may they one day be found again.

Is blogging, then, where the details live? I wonder. And it's a strong argument for returning full-fledged (me, you, us, everyone, the whole world even), though in the socially-networked, smartphoned-out world we've built up, we've managed to create a series of daylong energy zappers, or diverters, as the case may be. And so maybe it's quality, not quantity we should strive for, hence smaller lists of the close friends or whatever we choose to label them. But I find myself creeping back to the bigger list, the wider circle, for whatever reason. And then quickly becoming aggravated by the clutter, or bored with the excess of details I never wanted or asked for within this wider circle, and left wanting more and/or wondering when and if to give more to and from the smaller circle.

Blogging is better, I think it can be solidly concluded. But then Facebook is where everyone now lives. Ooo - sidenote - is personal blogging now effectively counter-cultural? Almost. Oh, how quickly this world, the vocabulary and the constructs, evolves!

It does present a conundrum of creative energy and social energy and how and where and when to spend it. Or is it not a conundrum and it's really a simple thing.

I do hate, as I mentioned to a friend (camping buddy) on our recent adventure, how everything is scattered across so many different platforms. Pictures, words, thoughts, memories, explanations. Tula would not approve of this way-tangled web. Our online lives' content is sprinkled and scattered and inconsistent and I wish there were a way to scrape it all together and keep it in one spot, at very minimum. At best, shape into something coherent, cohesive and tangible.

We spent New Year's in the woods, the sky super-clear and way more expressive even than what I see here, from our own front yard. This cabin camping trip was a good 'un and I think it will be replicated in the future. Good company, good food, good locale and good scotchy scotch scotch. One excruciating detail is the sole of my shoe, which I rested on the metal fire ring and effectively melted, shredded. I felt it happening but ignored it until we came home. And m, I can't even. Those shoes. My favorite, favorite shoes (Docs), which I wore everysingleday in the colder months. I buried them in the closet and won't even reexamine or document the damage in picture form. Literally it makes me shudder just thinking about their being wrecked.

The shoe repair place here is closed for whatever reason, and there's this online place that I called today for resoling estimate: $79. Plus $12 shipping. That's nearly the cost of a new pair! Which I could, but can't. I really can't justify that. So I've been looking around on ebay but then I accidentally bid on the wrong size and had to ask for bid retraction and consequently cut myself off from ebay for the rest of the night.

There's a few days left of break for myself and the children. Somehow every night I dream of work, either mundane events with the children - maybe my subconscious is worried about a few because FB tells me they've been sick? or sometimes it's weird events that make little sense. Last night on the other hand, a preschool dream evolved into one where J.Lo insisted that, given perfect sky conditions, he could and would fly me in a plane to closely observe the moon.

I'm resolving - no, readying - to conquer or at least surpass the winter's doldrums. I do love that about a school year, the predictable, traditional, month-by-month way it unfolds. And in teaching, how you become responsible for that unfolding, creating and carrying each month's meaning. It's kind of a beautiful anchor. January for my group is all about hibernating. Bear-hunting and such. (EEJ, your birthday party of yore is inspiring an entire classroom setup!)

There is always something to look forward to. Even in this natural time of loss-and-sorrow. (Man, I hate that Param died, right then.) This coming-down from the excitement and glory of Christmas.

There are children to teach, a K.Lo party to plan, walls to paint! And countless other good things.

My resolutions, if they exist, are as such: to create more. What, it does not matter - words, foods, crafts. Now that AA must have received her ninja(?), I can freely blog about how this Christmas season, my absolute favorite thing in the day-by-day madness was hand-making these felty bookmarks and ornaments. With stitching and all. The end results were quirky, personalized and from the penelope-heart. I feel like next year I could start even sooner, but this brings me to my second resolution which is -

to reconnect with serendipity. It's something I feel like the highly sophisticated and awesomely accessible intrawebs has somewhat destroyed, but no - it has simply evolved. Serendipity through FB allowed us in a single random thread to reconnect with old friends and set up that great camping trip. Serendipity through Pinterest landed me on those felty creations, however late in the season. Serendipity still exists, and I want to embrace it.

Also, not a resolution but a conclusion for 2013. Something I almost posted on the FBs and then retracted five thousand times in my mind, but will place here as A Detail: There is no "getting better." I'm done waiting for that, after nearly a year of having suspected LD, journeying to figure out WTF it was and attempting to treat it and then still having symptoms, everysingleday. Every single day, I will probably feel something wrong with me, the weak arm or the achy joints or the not remembering shit moment to moment. Mixing up word context and being only vaguely aware of it after the sentence has been spoken. And other weird or disconcerting randoms. But I can't let the excuse of it overwhelm me into lump-dom, into putting xyz off indefinitely. There is rest and self-caring, yes. But also continuing to live a life, and attempting to make it a good life.

I suppose this a stopping point for now. TBB (to be blogged) is a list of my random pet peeves, to which I couldn't manage to naturally segue here, including the recent trendy word and related phrase, "gut" and "gut health." And I look forward to the Hallmark Channel post.

love to you across the miles,
pen

Ether,

Sometimes I suppose we forget where we are in the chapter of our own lives. I decided to take my laptop into my room, dreaming one day of a queen sized bed to stretch out in, and admire my newly painted door- glorious- and put on some bon iver. And it was this familiar feeling, like I'd done this and written it before, but it felt so new and novel- what do you mean turn off the noise of tv and retreat to a calm space. And the last thing I'd been listening to was the last chapters of Something Wicked This Way Comes. I hadn't remembered. How quick things fly in and out.

Nothing is stable in this newly painted space.

Walking and low body temperatures and lists that go on and on and never end - staring at spots, just like before but with things that suddenly remind you of a distance. You aren't the same anymore. And that door newly painted with the shiny brass nob- that was 16 years of waiting and that hallway door maybe 40. Perhaps it will do nothing to quiet the place but they were a beautiful thing to imagine into being.

But there is so much you want and desire. Where do I begin?

He said to dream with him, and worship him with my hands...

more later,
m.



 

making the starbucks is a genius blog-name

Hello old-same,

#firstworldproblems: So I've also been behind on blogging LoCo and yesterday said, Today is the Day, Going to Get it Done, but then ran into all sorts of technological roadblocks that are making me bitter. Like why does it have to be so hard, considering how "easy" it's all become. Or probably I'm making it too complicated, but ALL I WANT TO DO is a) upload photos b) arrange them in the order I want and c) caption them adequately, so as to tell enough of the story. And yet. Five hours later and I've gotten nowhere with Wordpress and its crapola setup. I could blame this all on my geriatrically slow PC, but even then, I'm finding the whole platform inadequate, and Blogger's hardly better.

But it also could be my impatient/restless/slightly bitchy about everything mood.

Which will pass in a few days or so.

They're cutting down more trees up the street, which is going to change my landscape again. DareIsay ruin the view, again, but obviously I'll eventually get used to it. I just hope that in fact our property line does extend into the trees, because whoever the tree-chopper is, they seem reckless and voracious and hellbent on total destruction. I suppose it makes them a lot of money. Or actually, this tree-chopper up the street may be completely different than the other neighborhood tree-chopper, who is in it solely for the wood-money, whereas this person could just be clearing land to build another home. Because they're aren't like 10 for sale already? There are. Ugh. People.

The fish tank and I came to a head in our long-standing passive aggressive battle yesterday, wherein I've failed to periodically clear its filter buildup and also may have scooted it too close to the wall or something, because it looked like it was sticking out too far, randomly, and the thing leaked onto the wall and onto some books and well, now I'll really have to paint the living room in the fall, if it weren't already on the list. And I put the books out to dry in the sun, and then forgot to bring them in when it started raining. "Carrie" has taken the worst hit, and all three are mass media paperbacks that are highly accessible at used book sales, so I'm not overly sad about it, but still. D'oh. Duh. It's like when I took some ibuprofen from the bottle this weekend and apparently failed to replace the top and inadvertently booby-trapped the thing for the next person, who spilled hundreds of pills everywhere. And I have no recollection of doing that, whatsoever. But it doesn't seem out of line with my recently very flaky character. And I haven't been particularly offended by this personal shortcoming, either, is the funny thing. I'm like - oh, I did that? Hum. Really? it does sound right... oops. I'm sorry, J.Lo. Shrug! And then I just move on to forgetting the next thing.

The west coast succulents all seem happy in their various new containers, but it's only been two days and who knows. However, I will say the succulents in the Easter Garden thrived the most, possibly on neglect. Although some magical person has been taking care of it regularly - but low light and little water and indoor living, they seem to love. And generally, less attention.

I've had a few weird recent dreams, surely media inspired, as Orange is the New Black - which is yes, occasionally uplifting but also raw and funny and dark and light - and its intense prison narrative seemed to have led to a scene in the Chicago dorms lobby, wherein a resident argued with the security desk, and the disagreement culminated in a microwave cooked roast being flung while the resident screamed. I have no idea. And then the escape from Pakistan dream, but clearly that was influenced by watching Argo, which was Iran, but still.

Today so far has been: Kindergarten screening for N.Lo, who wore his new red sneakers and "did AWESOME," in his own words. And the rest of the day holds: catchup to you and Cath on our book and our notes, more notes on my Giant Book of Parameters, some cleanup here and there, possibly some handbells (or maybe I'll just skip and go Wednesday), some pondering of life and taking in the delightful breeze. And a pie. Maybe it's time to make PIE.

xoxox
penelaotang

dear m-and-cath,

How you ladies persevere! over the strife of bad hotels and tourist ripoffs (the French are the same way about napkin usage - wtf people?) and somanystairs. Mostly it sounds like you're both rolling with the hot and the sweat and embracing the ride, vanbreakdowns and all. I love hearing about candy-making and random snake-handling and tour guides addicted to Facebook. Also, let's not overlook the fact of a guide named Cornelius, which makes me think of the Rudolph special and Yukon Cornelius checking his pickaxe for gold. (There's an old-school Christmas special reference in EVERYTHING.)

It's been two weeks with Sophie and after her morning bout of Puppy Crazies, she's resting in my lap. Aw, puppy. She's a good one. Loved and loving. Smart and so far an oddly good little puppy student, although there's of course the obligatory streak of stubbornness and spite, with a dash of punk. Would things be interesting otherwise. And Bender, dare-I-say, is making a full recovery with YuckBattle 2013. One would think canned food and meds would be a giant pain in the ass, but that she's a heedless wolfer-downer-of-mushy-food, this has all been mercifully easy. So Bender lives a little while more. ThankyouGod for that. Because she's a spaz, that one, but need I emphasize my love for the creature.

Oh, I feel like I traveled to you last night in my dreams! Like I did some high-five with Cath as she left, and I appeared, and who knows what country we were even in or going to, but it all made sense in the dream. I met M, I feel like? And some other K teachers? There were boats and hotels and sunsets. Cityscape. Lots of glass and water. And it seemed improbable even within the context of the dream that I was there, but somehow there I was and you were like, here's where we are going, come along with me.

Bells was not as epic-long as I had expected, because I'm not in fact playing Sunday (the next Sunday instead), but tonight shall be some silliness in which our director will pretend to be very arrogant, direct us badly, get fed up, direct a recorded performance instead, during which we walk out - then we play for real (hopefully well) without his help, but then he takes a bow for our performance, taking credit. And gets a cream pie to the face. For realsies.

J.Lo has The Snarfle now, adding a high-maintenance wrinkle to weekend events, but whatevs. I think he'll still rally and participate as penelope requires. He did build me the awesome planter box after all, complete with wheels. And I've been gathering Easter Garden supplies, although according to Mom I'm still on Wilmington time with my expectations of what the home improvement store should have available this time of year. Slim pickings, but I'll make do. Yesterday I harvested moss from the yard(!) (will it live!), made a cross from string and sticks, purchased a $4 clay, stone-esque pot MADE IN VIETNAM that will serve as a tomb. Rocks from the yard have been collected. Today I buy dirt, and drainage rocks, and pansies and some succulents. And take it all to the church in the Starship Lo.Co.

My. However will it all be executed. And I'm still in my pj's. But to be fair, I've already baked the dessert for tonight's churchsupper (that I should have baked yesterday) and K.Lo was operating on a 2-hour delay for school. Because that's what we do every time a snowflake falls somewhere in the county (which is the size of Rhode Island! and therefore increases chances of snowflake delays). Also, I'm feeling all productive and hopeful about the second job I applied for, the envelope currently laying-in-wait in the mailbox, even though I feel like it will be a lucky break if they even glance at my application. But it's a library job, developing youth programs, and that would be kind of awesome, right?

Eventually employment will happen, according to the laws of odds, or so I keep telling myself. Will I be a Hardee's biscuit maker, or something more? it's out of my hands...

Coming soon: the blogpost about gremlin caterpillars.
love to you both across the seas,
penelope

it's an undercurrent.

That's the feeling i get. It's always there. You just lose bouyancy and it catches you and you're swept up by it. To me there's a sense that there's some judgment that pulls you under, maybe some lack of worth of feeling you deserve to drown. I don't know. Is this too much for this august blog? Randomly, unrelated i had a dream my dad was withdrawing a large sum of money from an atm and then was followed back to the house and robbed. The young black guy was apologetic but still was going to do it. And so i emailed mom and she's like your father is going to the atm on monday to pay the electrician.

I know right?

Anyway, back to the pondering. I'm with you about the tension we live in- that potential vs. kinetic energy. And I think we must have both. We should float to rest after go go go but then we turn to self condemning? I hope for that balance in the next job. It feels good to work hard but for me is it the labor that satisfies, should it? Or is it just work? To me this is tied to very finely but not directly related to the swings we're talking about- which i think don't have to be so high and low. You're not letting go of something. Is there something down there in the current you're trying to hold on to? Discover? Or are you trying to bury it before your pulled further down stream? Staying down longer than you should?

I get what you mean about having both but it's like in that sense why would you want to play with the poisonous snake just to prove that it exists and is dangerous ... is more like a person who thinks they'll never be rid of the snake so they think they owe it some familiarity so as to come to terms with it? Which maybe we won't- to some degree be ever rid of it... But i think there is a further freedom to seek. And that i see the dark as that active agent very deliberately trying to extinguish your light. I think yes, those battle are inevitable- but not so long or hard or lifelasting maybe... there's some defense in the wall that's been breached, a wound that needs to be guarded and healed up- is how i would see it, and you need to bring stones, barriers and such to guard it so that the bridge isn't underminded. In the last folletnovel they talked about how the spacing btw the bridge points had to be wide apart so the current would be slower/the more narrow the stronger and more corrosive the current, and then in order to help the problem, the pile of rocks had to be around the pilings otherwise the current would undermine them at the bases even if it was moving slowly... which is what happened in the book of course and why the bridge, even the 2nd stone one almost collapsed. Bcs they just drove the pillars down and didn't put the loose rocks around the base because it seemed pointless but it totally wasn't. And though we can't see them they were important to the strutuctural integrity of what's seen on top. So my fish friend there is something to that NOT weak thought- it's what God calls us to... we were not meant to dwell in the dark or entertain it... and we know the light isn't effervescent bubbles- that's not quite what we mean...but you know. I had a dream about you too- the same night as my dads. We were in a house i often dream about in a room. I didn't tell you what was in the room, but it was something i had wanted you to see or notice. It wasn't a good thing... it reminded me of our ghostwalk... you and i. and the knowing and the seeing of things. and the choices we make.

Ok i'm going to go swimming and come back.
Also i'm eating a vitamin water popsicle... it's ok but not nearly as satisfying as the oj.

The swimming was an effort to make my mornings feel more expansive. I think they do a bit. And i said i'd avoid the coffee shop today but mwah... will i?

Sorry for the dramatic tone shift. I should go. I missed the 1020 bus and now... i have a feeling the next ones not coming for 20minutes ... but do i know that for sure? No.

p.s.

I had very weird/some bad dreams last night and in one them, the local Aldi was inexplicably closed. Overnight. And it was tragic. I think I dreamed it because we discussed at bookclub how Kroger and HarrisTeeter were here onceuponatime and didn’t last. Which is crazy.

Anyway. Let’s not ever go there in reality, please and thankyou. Aldi forevs!

dear subconscious,

well I’m glad you’re listening at all times, really – and to so promptly field my complaint of “boring dreams” suggests the potential for exemplary customer service. I’ll put in a word with the Manager. But honestly, I could have done without last night’s series, in which:

• a friend threw me not one but two baby showers (aghhh. no.), two nights in a row. one for in-town friends, one for long-lost friends.
• a guest gifted me a set of spatulas at one said shower, and I’m still not sure whether she was confused about the occasion, or why no one advised her against the purchase, since they all had gone shopping together.
• we hosted a bbq at our house in which random guests appeared – our realtor, Chris K@ttan of SNL and The Middle fame
• Chris K@ttan cried about his life. he wore a red sweater. with a reindeer on it.
• we semi-stalked a gay neighbor couple on a walk one day and stopped by their house, pretending we were regular friends – because we liked their deck. which they were staining. with a giant airbrush-type contraption. and one of the guys new we were imposters but was perfectly fine with our company, but the other guy faked his way through the conversation, pretending that he did know us and that we were in fact long-time friends. but wasn’t mad when we later confessed we weren’t and just wanted to be their friends.
• we scoped their house for architectural inspiration
• we tried to return a pitcher and a cooler at the bbq, but no one would claim them
• it may or may not have been christmas, or a housewarming, at the bbq. I feel like it was both?
• I feel like we weren’t actually hosting a bbq – but ppl showed up
• I drove around on the highway in the town I grew up in. looking for…? taking in the scenery

It’s not that they were particularly stressful. Yet I’m perplexed and wouldn’t mind several more hours of sleep to recover.

xo,

penelope

These days,

Lately I'm reluctant to get out of bed at all. The tossing and turning though finally does me in and the thirst and the general haggardness so I do get up. I've never been one of those lingering types. Absolutely possessive of the 8or9 hours but otherwise. I wish i could read a book in bed in the morning, like those grab a cuppa and tuck back in sort of people. Or the kind of person who pulls off nightware really well opposed to looking like a tangled mess. I wonder if i had one of those sleep # beds if i'd be restful when i sleep. Granted the dreams don't help but i've always been rolling this way or that. I do the same thing in church- one hip, next hip... i wonder if the whole thing speaks of being bored with the process. I'm not sure. When mom asks me what I've done or am going to do with my day, I just whistle now, in that arching "annnnnnnd, hoooooow" as i wave goodbye sort of whistle. I'm sure it says almost everything. And most nights i conquer the mind chatter with some yogic deep breathing exercises.

As you know i've been having some vivid time in imagination land too. I also got new floss, and have been taking long soaking baths. Which taxes our septic tank horribly but my whole body longs for the heat and liquid warmth. It pulls me to it. I think about it all day and think, can I slip into the tub and let the water rise, yet? I've never used bathsalts and fragrances so much in my life. I'm also, currently reading "sweetness at the bottom of the pie" and the poems of wallace stevens. Scheduling time to get that BA notarized (pain in my ass). Ordering prints from the last 3 years from k)dak. So there's that. But whatelse- Cathy sent me money and it made me weep. And for her birthday i'm going to figure out how to make her a cameo. Also I have both Adele albums- 19,21. Have no idea how i got them or why they're on my itunes... It was sort of crazy. But now i can listen to the 3 songs i do like over and over again. Bonus.

So, Last night I dreamed of 7 kittens. [which can speak of gaining independence or?] There was a whole lot of business about the wrangling of them and where they came from, and what to do with them. It was definitely like we were keeping them, and the smallest and last discovered one was a brindle- rustredorange kitten, smaller than the rest, and we definitely decided to name her "Chloe"... which means "tender young shoot" or "verdent and blooming". As I said to Lauralee, "I am full of portent these days."

Oh and I finally embroidered the name of the quilt, and my mom and my name and the year into the quilt border- which given how sluggard i've been lately was quite an accomplishment. I almost wept. It was even better than finishing the hedge trimming, or taking that long walk on Monday but haven't repeated since. As i said to danica i've enjoyed too much being maudlin and licking the salt and grey from my fingers all day long to do much else. In the same breath though i can be glad of your long waited for grocery. The good things. They're coming aren't they. Ways are being made. Pushed forward and opened. I'm going to write a poem about us i think. What our condition might be. I think...

m--

and for records sake: a jumbled mess and not much meat.
portent aka a list of all the images in my mind right now:

It started with:

• The Ants: Everywhere, all around our house. Stealing resources. of friends. of mine. And the woman i asked for help said i should ask God to wake me up with a verse:
• John 2. The wedding at Cana. Mary notes that they've run out of wine. Jesus says it's not his time yet but he does provide anyway. Which I pondered whilst camping- Mary knows the shame that will come upon them. I wonder why she knew in the first place. Sometime later la-cat was praying for me and that led to the bathsalts, the contemplation of slow healing and the tension in my shoulders, and the may your body have hope, not just my soul, which led to:
• Psalms 16 "you hold my lot. the lines have fallen for me in pleasant places, indeed i have a beautiful inheritance."... which i didn't agree with. I wondered where it was. I asked. i went to the throne and said, but seriously am i missing something?
• Which led me to: What is pressing down on my shoulders? (my knee has been hurting again) A golden statue of an indian fell off my back, and was then pecked at by a vulture as if it were flesh. It spoke to me as if it was about stolen inheritance... was it mine? Was it someone elses? Where did it go? Why? I stopped meditating. I thought it was too much too see already with no answers yet.
• And then of course at the beach: The pelican and the 4 fishermen. I have often asked God, "Lord, where shall i cast my net today?"
• pelican: pinpoints the fish, locks on and plummets into the water to get it. i resolved that i would most like to be the pelican.
• the father: with his son, taking pictures and catches the fish, all experience and memory gathering.
• the expert: two massive poles, 3 hours, 8-10 fish, 1 baby shark, 1 stingray?, and every single one thrown back into the ocean. drew lots of attention and questions and seemed relentless. maybe it's all about the lures.
• the fly fisherman: endlessly casting and reeling back into a basket. river? why ocean? nothing caught. restless. exhausting to watch.
• the recreational hobbyists: two friends, moving down the beach. catching nothing but talking. almost aimless or planless anyway. and then prayer on sunday,
•    a baby in a crib, a roman soldier- the centurian luke 7he knows jesus can just heal his servant from where he was because his authority extends beyond him, everything is subject to it... then ps91... he will command his angels concerning you... (the passage i've been teaching the meditation classes on). jake prayed that over me coincidentally... jesus of course was tempted by the same phrase...
• and then the dreams: the woman, the child, the rasping choking, the "lord, give me my voice!", the nanorobots, the flying, the struggling, the man chasing me with a cat like face. the choking squeezing has stayed with me since.
• and now the kitten named chloe. the verdent bloom.

and here am i, on the brink. the slippery edge of understanding. i need to make columns. draw a diagram. the truth about jesus//the indian//the requests//the lack//the expectant future.

but perhaps instead i'll crawl under the couchchair cover like twist and sleep. if only i had an analyst on staff.

My darling,

It's late, and i've had unsettling dreams. One where I was on an elevator that reached the top and once it did it rotated top to bottom so that we wre all upside down. No one seemed to mind. Everyone seemed to think it was normal. And then another where i was covered in brine or some dried saltly pattern after a sprinkler system had gone off in a huge office building. It's probably the epsom salt soaks i've been doing lately. They're leeching into my dreams. And backing up the septic tank too.

 

And i've begun to watch korean soapoperas so i'll let you know when 'My lovely Sam Soon' and 'Vampire Prosecutor' start invading my dreams. I listened to the first part of pimsleur's korean and when they prompted i was able to recall the answers in french. Of course that's not at all what was required but i was amused. Je ne sais pas. Je ne comprend pas. Tu es connais ou' mon fbi bgcheck? which apparently is actually said savez-vous ou' mon cheque.... est? oh well. Nevermind.

 

More on meditation and the rhythmless days later.

penream,

I had this dream where i was leaving an apt and there was one open so i quick went in there to use their bathroom? And then i saw someone and i was like oh hey, yah, i'm a friend of joey's- and you're oh? right- lou? right? Nice to meet you...It was apparently very important to remember their names because I kept waking up to tell myself so. CUT TO: I'm at a party and we are passing small white pills to one another via our mouths. It was a fairly intense party. CUT TO: I've got Bodo and Twist walking along a street  and then am going up and downstairs/an Eshyer like labryinth looking for this guys apartment, then i'm in another place and find his apartment finally - it's number 5 and i just had to go back further to get to it, which opens up into a movie theatre and a guy offers me a job as the projectionist- before i can accept or decline something goes wrong with the picture and he jumps up to fix it. I fall asleep on the stairs waiting, and then the guy I was looking for realizes I was there, gets angry at the projectionist guy and starts getting into a fight because he thinks he's done something to me. He finally realizes I'm fine and comes over to me. and SCENE.

*joey means: He will enlarge/Hebrew
*lou means: Famous in battle

Anywhozille,
yes, that precipice of decision looms. I haven't heard back from the guy so we'll see what he eventually has to say. I love your shirt. It's pretty fantastic. Oh, and i was totally waiting till you picked up STP. I thought i warned you about it already? Hmm. Well Cathy had already relayed to me what happened at the beginning and i was like WTF!? The nerve really to go somewhere and ruin a perfectly good vacation for everyone. The nerve! No words really.

Anyway, ive got to go make breakfast. I'm all sorts of hungry. (24 days without a frap) AND the other night i had maybe less than 1/2 a tennis ball worth of prime rib and my body was like, hoooold on there sister! So you could say i'm still weening myself off the fast too. Not so bad though.

M.

brainstreams

I feel like it’s going to be another low-count month for blog posting. Which is sad. Because there’s so much to say! Right? I mean, my dreams could be their own blog. To recap for our reader(s), I had a dream where I was living in Vermont with J.Lo, and the couple next door convinced me to undergo a recreational embalming procedure. I know. I’m speechless, too. I obviously freaked out within the dream and reneged, but – ? I’m practically afraid to go to sleep again. What will that brain come up with next.

My throat is dry. My clothes are lame. Ideas to make them more interesting swirl around my brain. The annual spiedie contest is next week, and this year I’m entering the homemade competition. I’ve got a secret ingredient and method in my back pocket. The dishes aren’t done, and I hate that. There’s too much dog hair in the air. The heat is ridiculous. But apparently it breaks here a lot sooner than, say, October. That sucked. I signed up on a church committee to help out at a fair-trade sale. I picked up some add’l BS freelance work. I’m editing or eventually going to be an editor for a friend’s online literary journal. But not yet. And that one doesn’t pay. But that’s totally okay. We had a playdate. I heart my bookclub. I heart my online friends. I wish you all lived next door. Except I’d probably still be a borderline recluse. We have one tomato from the plant outside. That will be it. But my mom gave us a lot of vegetables this year and some of them were heirloom tomatoes. Which I heart, because they are odd-shaped and pink and taste like tomatoes should. I learned to can. Next spring I’ll learn to make jam. With strawberries. I now own a giant spatula this size of quesadillas and pancakes. I cut my hair again, and J.Lo’s; scissor-wielding makes me feel slightly powerful. I don’t want my baby to go to off to school, but every day I can’t wait for her to go to school. I drank two white chocolate martinis tonight. We made spicy orange chicken for dinner. Someone tried to steal $2000 of my nonexistent money the other day and the fraud department called to say they have to cancel my debit card. Which I’m incredibly grateful for, but still it’s sort of vexing. Who does that kind of thing. And this all explains the last part of my dream about the creepers couple next door in Vermont, in which a fraud officer showed up to say that same couple overcharged us for previous services rendered (carpet cleaning was apparently their side business?) and also charged me in advance – $10K for the fluids and procedural work required in the recreational embalming. Which was so not part of the deal anyway.

I’m still freaking out about it a little. J.Lo is playing Borderlands and seems highly amused – that’s your game, right? And I need to do the dishes. And then lie in bed and read The Help. And hope for dreams that feature rainbows and lilypads.

xo

Hard Day Pen,

The forces are at work against my contentment. The heat is not helping. (and i didn't get to yoga) Sudden turnings and wanderings around gas expenditures, deducting from pay, and time, where is that going, 11 hours total and then what, bed by 10. And do it again. Last night i whacked my foot and kept myself mostly asleep. As the pain was radiating up my leg. I thought you could wake up or just process this all and keep sleeping. Apparently I drew blood and removed skin from a box i had on the shelf. What was I doing so close to it, and why was my leg getting grabsy with the shelves? I woke up and went ohhh, wait what!?

Which reminds me, I had a dream about you and scott and your house last night. Danica and I had come to visit. Klo was at first afraid and then ohhh, how did you get here kind of thing. And Danica went walking, because it was good for her to go without the kids, but it had gotten dark fast, so I drove back to get her and she'd said she'd gone out to far. I think we were all going to go eat BBQ together. And we were looking for where your magnolia sapling was. And I saw the overpass of a freeway going over to the left of your house, your house itself was on a bit of a hill, mountainy forest area, and i saw it growing in btw the two onramps, and i thought, what a silly place for a tree. Though it would provide shade eventually. I hope thats not the tree, i thought. It wasn't. Yours was placed near the center of the lawn, There were new leaves on your tree- and by all accounts it was going to be a lovely visit.

Must get less stalericecakes,
m.

Penolition!

As you may remember I started demo'ing the bathroom while the rents were away almost TWO (2) years to the day of this now final enterprise. My parents, lying in wait for revenge however, I came home one day to find drywall on 1 ONE wall only, with an unfinished line down the middle and none of my garbage bag art on the walls and the mold, still totally there. It sat there mocking me along with a shiny toilet paper holder- of things that could be, of things that would never come. And while 700 days have passed since that time, I was ready to turn the bathroom into an art installation- mapping out its story, literally came this .-. close to doing just that... The 1948 plaster. The 1980's rehab which stopped midsentence. The various paint jobs to make light of the apparent waiting repairs- while neglect and decay set in, and the roof and toilet replaced- telling the story of the leaky roof and the doorknob missing, and of the pipebursting. But apparently it was not to be. As I got a cryptic email about drywall being put up and demolition starting (green lit me). But as mom was soon to realize all or nothing - which i totally excel at- was exactly what this bathroom needed. Can't just put up new drywall without replacing the pipes, without replacing the ceiling, without putting in new electrical and insulation. And while we're waiting for some delays to come thru with the new house- guess which house gets attention!? This one. Though obviously the fact that my brother is coming after a 6 year absence was the inital spurning on of my mom. I while try to ignore the fact that the visiting grandchild warrents such sweeping change and yet we who live here do not- but as mom says- deadline pressure. Since they're coming on the 4th. By then- new pipes, new floor, new ceiling, rehabbed counter... WOuld you believe they coated the walls, the floor, and the kitchen sink, with almost 2"inch thick crazy solid concrete? You will note i got pretty far and then just decided to fuck it and let my dads guy Salvador do the rest, plus i may have put a chip in the bathtub. Whatevs. And i definitely didn't want to suck out the nasty attic insulation. Ugh. Arms itching already everywhere. So now as i sit here the bathroom is gutted, except for the floor which is next. And the tile debate btw mom and i is the next current, which way the bathroom is going to go- although i'm totally willing to keep the poor cabinet as long as we can make it pretty again is all i'm saying. But anyway, you must stay tuned to this most exciting!! development in the history of these here enterprises. It gives me hope! It gives me enthusiasm- a certain

special something for life and living again. I just don't know. It's like - it IS a dream come true. You will note the sleeping mountain lion. I'm going to miss him along with the sleeping curled up fox in his den and the mountain sheep. Goodbye lion! I love you!

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,

Is it the full moon that accounts for these wackadoodle dreams? Last night, you, me and a sunny day in NYC – escaping the authorities. Somehow you seemed quite knowledgeable on the subject, leading us toward Central Park, where we lost them in accordance with your plan.

Whatever we did to incite the chase remains a mystery. We stayed that evening in an expensive hotel with IKEA-esque decor. You seemed assured and even cheerful – like this was something you did every day, while I was a bit more internally frantic. And then K.Lo woke me up.

pen

Pentaloon,

HI, Its me.
Totally sorry for betraying you in said dream. I mean maybe I found out they killed dolphins and i just couldn't take it anymore. Hard to say.

I'm here with the thorne. So far the day is going fast. We had a lovely play time outside, now she's napping, as last time i may have gotten her down a little too late- but sometimes you just get locked on the course of the day but still feel compelled to go through with it even though you know its not the best for anyone. On a sidenote dans is very good at snacks. Cut orange bellpeppers, those addictive veggie strips, sparkling water. Total hostess points... but back to the playtime part. There were these squirrels, one small one at first eating nuts they dug up from the grass. And it only seemed to take a cautious look at us. And then a husky, must have been male came around, chasing the little one and it seemed straight out of that animated sword and the stone... if only there was a talking grump of an owl as our mascot. I almost feared for thornes safety at one point as she was standing btw them and them not 5ft from her. But i was ready. I would've dropped my phone to get to her in time. Because that's how much i care.

This is honestly not at all how i thought this post was going to go. But you know, why bring up japan. (Because its totally awkward to talk about). But can i complain, about ANTM for 2seconds. The only commercials are about cervical cancer... oh and soft skin commercials. It's killing the popcorn light fair is all i'm saying. I may have to do my nails or eat more veggie strips. Hmph. And thornes been sleeping for an hour already! Rock.

m.

m,

I had a dream last night we were traveling together in Japan (studying? what?) and you were filled with melancholy and eventually decided to leave the country without me. Gasp.

What gives?

pen

Dear Penelope,

Last night I dreamed there was this couple trying to escape the secret police. They were rich and were trying to be smuggled out. I don't think it worked. But I remember being her and spilling a suitcase and touching the fabrics like i was me, remarking on the silk blouse and raw silk of the dressing gown, the deep midnight blue of the colors and the dark mahogeny all over the place. Then I was at my house and apparently a mountain was close by which happened to be oozing lava... and I don't know why but I hadn't left yet and i could see a trickle of lava moving down the street- and it was that scenario of what should i grab? I remember I had an arm full of things, but thought next time i'll know how to do this effectively and grab as much as I can- all my books, my albums, because I'd left those behind, and anyway just as the lava was surrounding the house i took off in Lolly, and it was too late and i was racing around like it was a street chase trying to escape the lava, and dodge the obstacles, and there was an entrance luckily open to the 15 freeway which I got on just in time. And the shot pulled out like a supercrane shot from the scene so I could see that even on the freeway i was dodging vehicles and I finally stopped after narrowly missing something and then me and a random person from the police or fire department was talking to me... but it wasn't like i was going to be in trouble or anything- so that was refreshing even for the harrowing narrowly escaping lava part...

Glass in my Foot, by M

I spent some time meditating the other day. An hour actually. Which is a throwback to all those days in highschool i sat in the dark with candles lit, incense burning and a lethargic, melancholic posture as I contemplated existence. I had it down back then. Nowadays the most I normally do is look wistfully out my window. Or save it for yoga, or before sleep prayer. I do not these days often long for night swimming by REM or for somebody to love by Depeche Mode or even still those rainy days of Skid Row where everything is tinged with sadness and longing and awesome 80's hair. But I do a have rekindled love for Beethovens sonatas which i was in love with back then and his violin/cello suites with a dash of Grygorian chanting. Equally mysterious I think and ennui expressing but just a little bit different... but as it was those Cd's were in the car, so i chose another old throwback favorite, Enya's watermark.

And instead of pounding me down into the bottom of the sea as it used to I floated blissfully on top, dutifully lit the candles, burned the incense and wondered, how exactly does one meditate and on what exactly? I felt compelled to after my visit with the holistic chick. Wrote it down even, like an assignment. Meditate 1 hour. Which I always long to do, in the yard, with a long list of Bible verses at my side. I never do though. So to open up, and its often criticized, I flipped through the Bible and randomly landed at a passage. Normally Psalms. I am possibly hedging my bets that its going to be good but it usually is somehow shockingly theme appropriate. Here is the one from the other night:

Psalm 92
A psalm. A song. For the Sabbath day.
1 It is good to praise the LORD and make music to your name, O Most High, 2 to proclaim your love in the morning and your faithfulness at night, 3 to the music of the ten-stringed lyre and the melody of the harp. 4 For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands. 5 How great are your works, O LORD, how profound your thoughts! 6 The senseless man does not know, fools do not understand, 7 that though the wicked spring up like grass and all evildoers flourish, they will be forever destroyed. 8 But you, O LORD, are exalted forever.

For one, its a song for the sabbath, classic! day of rest, what am i doing? resting... listening. And with enya i've got the lyres and the harps sort of... so anyway then i thought the bed was too comfortable and so I got on the floor, (after about 50 min in i went to scratch my right thigh and found i couldn't feel it. Which was an odd sensation to arrive at. I wonder if it meant something)So I began, took deep breaths and meandered my way to the theme of the meditation which was my health and the main things that came to me were these,

first: Not my will but His will, not my struggle but His struggle, not my success but His success. Mainly in an act of giving it over to God, my body, which is His.

middle: As the holistic chick requested I phrase the term weightloss into a positive, which is something I often point out to other people. Negative thinking. Tsk. Lets turn that around and call it, I would like to be at my optimum weight which got me thinking, I would also like an optimum job and an optimum relationship and in an optimum place I would be traveling. And all of this thematically wound around being able to help people, being able to belong, and being able to serve.

2nd middle: Ask for help, Ask for healing. I am not good at being active in asking, deliberate or intentional in this area. Mostly because i'm a little obsessive and it plays like a loop until it breaks- this hurts, that aches, this frustrates, this annoys- i'm sure there's a request in there somewhere but they're often statements that need a little more recipe to them than that.

Last: I turned, with no deliberation, to where I am on my spiritual landscape. Since Nov 2007 I've been, first near a stream in dappled light looking toward a far off mountain, then walking toward the mountain with jesus, then a little further up, then sitting and waiting on a wheat strewn side of the mountain, (never mind that i eventually found myself on a volcano tour climbing a mountain and meeting god there) but on the mountain it is always warm and always pleasant looking out into the valley, where just once i saw a black tree grow and then was cut down, and then waiting at dawn/dusk on an outcropping of the mountain intermittently windy and calm, further up so that the sky was all that i saw, then the place got a little larger and flatter, like the waiting would be longer, and intermittently, lately there's been a small cabin surrounding me, sometimes there's a broom, other times not, and the minute i realize there's a roof and walls, it gets ripped off and sails, or is flung right off and out to the right of me and disappears into a bright blue sky. I can no longer see the valley below though I remember it.

So when I went there again, this is the first time it has ever been at night, I was dancing with someone on the wood of the cabin floor, no roof to be seen, but a few walls, and i was happy and had an exalted feeling, and as I turned to look down there was a piece of glass in my right foot, and I couldn't keep turning, and in my mind I kept trying to forward the image so that the glass was gone and the dancing could continue but in my image I just sat down and the man was holding my foot and sitting on a stool. And I sitting on a bench in low firelight.

And then Enya clicked off and my right thigh was waking up from its issues and I was left with pondering if, and this actually did happen when I was 3, what stepping on glass has to do with anything and is it me that put it there or was something more sinister involved. The actual incident was that my mom warned me not to play with the glass and I did anyway and the bottle broke and i stepped on it, then i had to get stitches and the doctor pretended to be santa claus and i was angry at the man for lying and i, to this day still have a very wide 2 stich x----x scar on the pad of my right foot. So that in my mental landscape I often find when I am in a dark place or feeling attacked, it is often by glass, either flying toward or raining down upon me or coming up from the ground. So that it seems significant that there appears to be glass in my foot in the last part of my meditation. Perhaps it is warning me against willfulness, or that there will be someone there to remove it finally, whatever wound this really is. I am curious about the answer.

While You Were Gone, by M

It rained. Which is crazy for the end of May into June. A cool rain, and 2 weeks of grey grey days. A reprieve for whatever comes what may. (the blazing heat of summer)(the tumbling down the empty reservoir into drought, perpetual in our arid climbs) and by rain i mean once every 3/4 hours for 5/10min at a time.

I had a dream that I was talking to people in a church and it was empty and i was high up in a balcony with wooden pews and then i was holding onto the side of a cliff as a waterfall shot out as wide as Niagara, to my right. And I craned out and twisted to try and get a better view of the most magnificent sight. As the water thundered, whales and dolphins leaped off the waterfall and out into the vast ocean, out to the horizon. Killer whales, and mammoth blue whales, and grey whales surging out to freedom. When it was over I told the nameless not seen people to help pull me in off the cliffs edge, as I probably better not test my hold for too much longer, as i threaded my hands into what felt like woven together paper. I had a last glance to what looked like a dolphin that didn't make it, and got hit on the rocks, but it was just a tree branch.

Last night I had a dream that I was in some sort of school, or small orphanage in a small faraway place. And whatever had happened none of the other students believed me, and the evil woman who was in charge had one upped me. So i had to run away. While everyone was out, I crawled around gathering my things. And found someone had bought me a new red duffel bag to replace the one I had. And there were notes in it from my friend Brigid, A yellow cross made like snowflakes are made, but on glossy paper, a note from Autumn, and a note from Sarah. I thought how sweet, but was somehow overwhelmed and concerned with bigger things. And then I woke up.

Tuesday I start an art department job on a low budget horror flick. My friends boyfriend Rob called me and I was like who is this rob guy- oooh ROB. Hey what's up? Heck yah i'll take it! Pays the same as this logging job i have now but is only 2.5 miles from my house.

I see a sliver of blue sky.