couldn't have said it better myself.

this is a video of keith olbermann's comments on the defeat of NO on Prop8 in california.

there are a lot of commentaries on this defeat. celebrity and otherwise. there are protests in california and all across america.

i found olbermann's to be very clear and concise and heartfelt and really said all i was thinking much better that i could, and i thought i'd share it with you.

if you've got an extra 6 minutes give it a watch.

and if you can't access video links on your computer, the full text of it can be found here.

in other news, happy veterans day!! it's not just another day off of work, so if you know a veteran call them up and thank them for their service.

there's a new wine blog up also. sangiovese, mmmm.

x.

the glory that is wingman.

isn't that the cutest little snake you've ever seen? wingman took this picture the last time we were at the zoo.

anyway, living with wingman, as you might imagine, is quite an adventure. not only is he fully wingman on his own, he has the tendency to memorize things and pull them out at the best possbile moment. with material from others he's even more.....wingmanish.

he's got comedic timing, for sure. but i can also tell when he's od'ing on certain things.

like, for instance, when we were doing history the other day we were learning about the islamic calendar. did you know that their calendar starts in the year that muhammad made his journey from mecca to medina? the hegira, it's called. thus, their calendar is whatever the year is A.H., or After Hegira.

so we are learning this and i say by way of example,

"you know a.h.? like we have b.c. do you remember what b.c. stands for?"

"before comedy!"

too much spongebob i'm guessing.

or just this morning i remarked to the lord of the ring that circuit city is going bankrupt.

to which he replied absentmindedly

"not enough people are spending enough money"

to which wingman replied in a terribly snarky tone

"that's un-AMERICAN!"

too much rachael maddow and keith olberman i'm guessing.

or my favorite from the other night. i was tucking him into bed when he said

"i wish i was a regular kid"

and immmmmmmeeeeeeedddddiately, like any good mother, i started listing off in my head all the horrible wrongs i had foisted on him to cause him to say this. things that i thought would better his person, but really lessened his chance at normalcy, or being a "regular kid."

i looked at the prayer flags that ran the length of his ceiling, the ABC poster that shows, among other items, the word lesbian for the letter L, the stuffed animals tucked in around his shared with his brother room, the fact that i don't force him to cut his hair, that his favorite jammy shirt has a baby in utero inside the sun on it.

that papa and i are always around, that i make him chew omega3 capsules, that we don't shop at wal-mart on principle and he's DYING TO, that he's home schooled, that i nursed him until he was 3, that he didn't talk until 3 1/2, that he co-slept FOREVER and took to tagging the furniture the minute he could write his name.

what did i do!!!!?????!!!!! that made him wish he was a regular kid!!!!!????!!!

"um, what do you mean? what's a 'regular' kid?"

"you know, not brainy. i wish i wasn't so brainy"

um. okay. whaaaat?

"brainy? what do you mean by brainy?"

"duh! like i wish i wasn't so SMART. you know, brainy. i'm brainy"

and then a big old world weary sigh.

oh. indeed.

too much encyclopedia brown i'm guessing (he likes the word "brainy")

and there you have it. really, i must mine this while i can. because i have recently decided that by the age of 12 i will stop writing so much about, and in so much detail about each of my boys. at some point they have to have a reprive from me and my blog and i suppose adolescence is as good a time as any to give them that.

it's funny how at some point your children stop being "your children" and start being actual human beings with ideas and thoughts and desires of their own.

not to mention they stop being "yours" and become "themselves" and gain certain rights to privacy. which sucks because adolescence is probably going to be pretty interesting and i won't get to share it with you or make snarky comments about their behavior!!! what WILL we talk about!!!???

and AND we've only got like 6 more months of the duke so i'm sure hoping wingman can pick up the slack when the time comes!

x.

dear mr. president-elect.

dear barack obama,

this is what i woke up to the day after your historic win. it was hanging under our Early Warning Signs of Facism (which is basically just a timeline of the bush administration) and next to the poem/quote from pastor martin niemoller. you know the one,

First they came for the Communists,
and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Communist.
Then they came for the Social Democrats,
and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Social Democrat.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists,
and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up,
because I wasn't a Jew,
Then they came for me,
and by that time there was no one left to speak up for me.

and there it was. wingman's handmade poster celebrating your win.

by the way, congratulations!

i really appreciated your acceptance speech tuesday night. instead of some self congratulatory, we did it!, whip the crowd into a frenzy speech, i think you set the right tone for the slog ahead. and i think you let us all know that we're in this together. that this momentum is just that, momentum. you reminded us that this is still a journey and we're not there yet.

you understand your position. and for that, i am thankful and even more assured that you will do the very best job that you can.

the thing is, i don't write this to you for me. i write this to you for my children.

while i am the one who voted, they are your true constituents.

and while i am so ecstatic, and more importantly pop the champagne hopeful about your win, AND have been waiting all my voting life for someone like you, i can afford to be let down.

that must seem pessimistic, but hey! i'm a life long democrat! it's my default.

but my boys have something in you that i, and so many others in my generation, never did growing up. they have someone truly awe inspiring to look up to. a political hero, if you will. they have been shown the audacity to hope in action and they are transformed.

and that's what i don't want taken away.

i know you aren't perfect and i know you can't fix everything. but you have the faith of millions and millions of americans, and millions and millions in the rest of the world, and more importantly, in this house, the faith of two little boys that you will at least try.

and that's all i ask.

good luck and god speed.

x.

yes. we. can.

today.

today i am washing and folding and packing all the clothes the boybarians wore at about 4-5 years old. the jeans that are still in great condition, endless t-shirts that aren't faded or worn, hanna striped jammies worn every christmas, a land's end jacket that looks nearly new after two boys have been through it already.

i do this about once a year for my goddess son, le petit prince. i started with the baby stuff, moved up to 18-24 mos., 2T, 3T, and now the 4Ts. i've got bags in the closet ready to go as he grows.

as i fold each little t-shirt and shake out each pair of jeans i am reminded of my boys when they were small. well, smaller. they are still small. aren't they?

well, maybe not. but i suppose they will always be small to me.

also today i am researching all that i will need to homeschool the duke (and then wingman) through high school to ensure him the best possible chance at getting into the college of his choice, should he choose college after high school, while also ensuring that he's eligible for scholarships.

it seems early, but it isn't. it's never too early to plan ahead when it's your head that has to navigate them through.

a special challenge is his desire to take part in a state program wherein the last two years of high school he can take college classes for both high school AND college credit.

so i wash and fold and pack away part of his youth as i navigate how to best see him successfully to young adulthood. at least academically wise. i haven't even begun to figure out how i'm going to actually parent a teenager, let alone two teenagers, let alone successfully.

you always think when they are still sleeping with you or peeing their pants or forgetting their jackets at preschool that it will be "easier" as they get older. that "less" will be required of you.

but folding those clothes today the feeling i had was not unlike folding those clothes and diapers getting ready for them to be born.

and i'll you in on a little secret, it wasn't any "easier."

and i suspect it won't get any "easier." and i suspect that so much more than i could ever imagine will be required of me.

and now because we all need it, and because i'm on a video roll (oh, yeah, it's a video with sound.)

yes we carve.

x.

free form friday. (yeah, i know it's monday)

while not completely random, we took another walk on friday and encountered this wonderful mushroom pictured above. cool, huh?

wingman was pretty enthralled with ALL the mushrooms we found, but at each one sniffed

"oh, but it's not a shaggy mane"

??

which only confirms my suspicions he does indeed have some secret life.

Coolness of the week!

(be advised, this is a news video link with sound. totally safe for work or kids, though)

click here.

if you can't access it, it's a story on how the pope just gave india their first female saint.

Random political bits for the week.

colin powell endorses obama, blasts own party.

palin HAS to go on SNL and sit for the roasting to try and gain points. sad and shameful.

poor joe the @#&$^%! plumber.

Food love of the week; Coke.

while coke is in NO WAY random, quite the opposite, it's my food love of the week and i'll tell you why.

i don't drink soda so i always forget this, BUT, when you've got that headache coming on and there's no coffee around and no pain reliever to be found, drink a coke. coke is always around. in vending machines, corner stores, gas stations, etc. even at the top of one of your area's highest peaks.

if coca cola needs to be bailed out by government then we really know the world has gone to shit.

i had a migraine on saturday, but recovered enough to go hiking on sunday. well, until one adds in a 90 minute car ride, not enough breakfast, and 5000+ feet up in oxygen thin country. by the time we got ready to go on the hike my head was pounding pretty good. no coffee, no advil, no amenities at the visitor's center.

but, they had a vending machine and that vending machine had coke.

the real miracle is that i actually had money in my wallet (which i NEVER do) AND the machine actually took my dollar without spitting it back out at me.

there are miracles afoot everywhere, people.

x.

touche.

i hope to have a free form friday for you later. in the meantime enjoy the conversation heard from the backseat yesterday.

wingman "i wish everybody in the world was bullet proof then john lennon would still be alive."

the duke "but then lots of ruthless leaders would still be alive, too."

w "but then abraham lincoln would never have been shot."

d "but then we'd never have the joke 'other than that, mrs. lincoln, how was the play?' "

x.

we took a walk yesterday.

we saw a waterfall.


isn't this tree amazing?


now, this is a bit fuzzy, but look at the "trunk" of that/those tree(s). doesn't it look like a sculpture? i see a female form towards the bottom wrapped around another taller human form towards the top. very isadora duncan.




we also saw some big ass leaves! very jurassic.




it's nice to see flowers blooming in the dark of the forest in october, isn't it?


there was a japanese garden.


and a zen garden.


and a reflecting garden. do you see that red dot at the far end? that's wingman. hi, wingman!


this handsome fellow was enjoying the attention. did you know that trumpeter swans mate for life?


and this was at the end. very merchant and ivory.

and that's the end of our walk. it was quiet and amazing and beautiful. a delightful way to spend the last of the perfect fall days.

speaking of delightful, new wine blog tonight and this time we're headed to australia. ACE!

x.

free form friday.

this was the bathroom in the hotel the lord of the ring and i stayed in in san francisco in 2006.

how random is that?

which is the perfect introduction to "free form friday."

a collection of randomness.

so this bathroom was mirrored all around. you see the television and phone? you could live in here! the weekend we stayed there i took two extra long baths complete with wine and cheesy television. it was heaven.

y'all be happy to know i did not use the phone. and considering it's placement, eeeww.

ring! ring!

"hello?"

"hi! what are you up to?"

"um....."

a book i read and LOVED this week;

The Year of Fog by Michelle Richmond

from amazon
In this spare page-turner, Richmond (Dream of the Blue Room) draws complex tensions from the set setup of a child gone missing. Photographer Abby Mason stops on San Francisco's Ocean Beach with her fiancé Jake's six-year-old daughter, Emma, to photograph a seal pup; by the time Abby looks up, Emma has disappeared. Abby delves into the bereft missing children subculture and into the vagaries of memory. The book is beautifully paced—one feels Abby's clarity of purpose from the first page. The sure-handed denouement reflects the focus and restraint that Richmond brings to bear throughout.

music i listened to and LOVED this week;

Rust Never Sleeps by Neil Young & Crazy Horse

on vinyl. yeah, baby. nothing gets the laundry folded faster. well, except paying your youngest boybarian to do it.

something i ate and LOVED this week;

Larrupin's Swedish Mustard Dill Sauce.

mmmmm. this comes from way way northern california and is good on so many things. i had it during our yom kippur breakfast for dinner fest last night on a bagel with cream cheese, sliced tomatoes, red onions, lox, with the mustard sauce on top. it really is so good.

happy friday!

x.

i should have put in an extra 50 cents to try for the patron saint of lost objects.

the following conversation took place this morning.

me: i did the dumbest thing i've ever done in my life today.

him: oh, i hardly think that's possible.

indeed.

there's always room for fucking up somewhere, right?

i think what he meant to say was supposed to be reassuring, like "oh, of course you didn't."

but it came out sounding different. and it's funnier to skew it this way anyway.

(note to all you singles out there. never go out with/date/partner/marry a writer. trust me)

anyway, at yoga i took my rings off. i wear two rings. my wedding ring and a ring that was a joint gift from the goddess mother and my sister after the duke was born. oh look. there it is above us. it's a carved face set in silver. it's beautiful. everyone who sees it loves it. i love it.

so my rings have been looser lately...okay. can i just stop here and repeat that. in bold. and caps.

MY RINGS HAVE BEEN LOOSER LATELY!

i'd like to believe all this yoga is finally paying off. while i am doing it for health and peace of mind, there are some other pieces of me i'd like to see affected by it as well. the pieces that are more used to being affected by wine and cheeseburgers.

anyway, so i took my rings off because they bug me during yoga. and i always put them in the front part of my purse...okay. can i just stop right here a say i do not at all care for the word purse. when i think of myself i DO NOT think of myself as someone who would carry a purse. i don't know why. it just seems so girlie and moommyish.

not that i think of myself as the burly truck driver type, just something about the word purse.

anyway, so i took my rings off and put them in my purse. in one of the front flat pockets of my purse where i always put them.

then i had some sort of leave of senses, a fit of the idiotics if you will. i took them from my purse and had the brilliant idea to put them in my sweatshirt pocket with my keys. a small pocket. a pocket that's shallower than...okay can i just stop right here i so do not have time for a metaphor, just trust me when i say the pocket is shallow.

so of course after class i gather my things and put my sweatshirt on and head to my car. as i get to the car i pull out my keys and get in the front seat.

and right then, somewhere in the back of some conscious part of my brain i register a small sound. not a ping or a thud, just a sound. i'm aware and not aware of it at the same time. but i don't become aware of this at all until a minute or so later. make sense? no? read on, you'll see what i mean.

i start the car and i'm going to put it in reverse and then i remember my rings. i go to my purse to the pocket where i put them and they aren't there. i dig deeper and they aren't there. i check the other pocket and they aren't there.

panic. you all know panic. real abject fear. that one split second when you know you are not dreaming and it's only one split second more when you'll find the child, the wallet, the wedding ring or you won't. and everything after that one split second more will be cool or absolutely fucked up beyond all repair.

and in the next split second my rings weren't there. totally FUBAR.

my sweatshirt pocket! of course! now i remember!

i checked and they weren't there.

i get out of the car and look underneath and around and they aren't there. i get back in.

and then i remember the small sound. only right then do i become aware that i was aware and i remember that i registered some small sound. so i open the door and right there, right where i just looked, right there is my wedding ring. lying on the pavement. my beautiful ring that symbolizes so much, that means so much to me. just lying there.

how did i overlook it before? how did i not see this? maybe it wasn't there or maybe it was.

all i know is i picked it up and put it on and gave a sigh. of. relief. an upwards glance of thanks.

but my other ring? nowhere to be found. i searched again in and out and around the car. i went back in the building and got help looking and retraced my steps and it was nowhere. to. be. found.

and it's just a thing but the sense of loss was so profound. they are just things, sure, we can all tell ourselves this. just things, but they really can come to mean so much. even more when they are gone.

isn't that funny. how something means more when it's not right in front of us. now THAT is a sick cosmic joke. and a really really REALLY good lesson.

don't they usually go hand in hand? the sick comic jokes and the lessons learned?

where was i? oh, yeah. so i got back into the car, put the key in the ignition, and i'm about ready to go when right then, for some reason unbeknownst to me, right then i am compelled to look in my purse, in the main part, not the front pockets, and right there was my ring. staring up at me. right there.

now, like i said before, at yoga i never put my rings in the main part. just in the front flat pockets (when i'm not hit by a fit of the idiotics that is) and even though i had the flap up to look in the front pockets initially, so sure the main part was exposed, remember i ended up putting the rings in my pocket. not anywhere in my purse.

and yet, it there it was. right there on top. staring right up at me.

and there you have it. divine intervention on a random thursday in october.

and i'm sure there's a lot more to say about that but i think i'm good for now.

x.

in a pickle.

okay. this is a BAD picture. but if you look closely you will see that this is a gumball machine. only it's filled with little plastic figures. homies or saints.

well, i don't think i have to tell you i nearly peed my pants when i came upon this, right? we were on a road trip early in the summer and we stopped in this small town i hadn't much ever noticed in all the years driving by the exit on the freeway. i am SO glad we did!

you put your 50 cents in a give it a ride. and it gives you a homie or a saint. pretty cut and dried.

and therein lies the pickle.

do i keep dropping quarters in, ANY amount of quarters, in hopes of getting the saints i want and risk getting the homie with the roses kneeling by the gravestone, a tear falling under his sunglassed eyes AGAIN? (it turns out i got a lot of this guy)

or do i set a limit on my money and get what i get and that's it?

because this gumball machine was roughly 1000 miles, give or take a few, from my house. two states away. i'd never seen another like it. and i wanted those saints! do i risk what will easily amount to more than a few dollars to get them?

hmmm.

the duke is in a pickle, too. when he was at camp this summer he won the "fun" award. you may remember a few years ago he won the "honesty" award?

yes and then he went up on stage to accept it not a few weeks after he got in trouble for lying to me? a pickle indeed.

anyhow, they give the awards at camp during the summer, and then have a big ceremony in the city across the pond later in the fall.

if you're a camper it's a big deal.

so, the duke just got his invitation in the mail for the big awards ceremony and of course it's on the same day at the same time as his very last soccer game of the season.

of course.

he is loyal to his camp and says the "fun" award is a pretty big deal. they announce it last and make a lot of winning it.

he is also a loyal teammate. being there for his team is important to him. and it's the last game.

what to do?

a pickle indeed.

i told him to think about it a day or two and let me know. i'll respect any decision he makes.

sounds like iceland is in a pickle. on the verge of bankruptcy. you're ice-freakin'-land? how do you bounce back from THAT!?!

speaking of pickles, last night wingman asked me

"mama, do you think the soul looks like a pickle?"

and if there's anything more to say about that i just don't know what it is.

so what did i do about the homies and the saints machine? well, on the trip down when we stopped at the machine i only had a few quarters and i got what i got.

on the trip back up when we stopped at the machine (yes, we got off the freeway and drove into the town just to stop at the machine) i set a limit for myself.

PLUS, i had people in mind. so when i let the 50 cents ride each time, it was with someone particuluar in mind. and the last few 50 cents were for me. and i told myself even if the saint i wanted came out on another person's 50 cents i would honor it and give them the saint.

that seemed like a good way to eliminate the pickle and feel not so weird about dumping cold hard cash into a machine filled with cheap and badly painted mostly likely lead ridden plastic figures made by three year olds in china.

so i let all those quarters ride and GUESS WHAT!?!

i didn't get one freakin' saint i wanted. sigh.

i was bummed for sure. for awhile. much later i was so grateful and felt like the whole thing had a touch of the divine. if just a small touch.

because while i didn't get the saints i so desperately wanted, i did get the saints i needed. only i didn't know it at the time. isn't that how it usually works?

i got the saints who watched over travel, and children and animals, and who preached pure love.

and when we got home from that long and mostly at freeway speeds road trip we were all in one piece (i am thankful making it back from the store in one piece), the cat who had been missing the whole time we were gone came back, and i am finally all these months later really truly understanding what it means to give "pure love."

cue the rolling stones.

x.

p.s. there's a new wine blog up. mmmm, malbec.

regret.

the jewish high holy days of rosh hashanah and yom kippur are a time of reflection on regret and atonement. during the 10 day period starting with rosh hashanah, jews think about what they've done, who they've hurt, etc. and reflect on this and how they can do better in the next year. on yom kippur they ask for forgiveness.

so i was thinking about the concept of regret last week. mainly in regards to having to explain the concept to the boybarians in relation to the holiday.

so i was thinking about regret, driving along, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. it was so astonishing i nearly pulled over.

of all the things i've ever done, all the lines i've crossed and the boundaries i've squished or moved or obliterated, of all the people who might have one (or sadly, more) achey spot in their hearts with my name on it, i simply cannot regret any one thing i've ever done.

this is what nearly pulled me over. out of the blue. just like that.

whoa! this is new.

i can't. and it was as simple as that. and all those nights when i couldn't sleep, and of course that's when the dark thoughts come calling, all those nights i lay awake thinking about what a fucker i was to this person or how awful it was i did this thing, etc. all those nights and now i don't have to do it again. all those times i got that queasy feeling when a memory came up and squashed it because i didn't want to think about what an ass i had been or how stupidly i behaved, gone.

the thing is, to regret is to assume that what you did had no merit. that it was done with complete disregard to anything or anyone else and in total spite of what you know and who you are. which seems like a reasonable assumption to make, right? that you are 100% disregarding and 100% in spite of "knowing better." right?

but wait. to regret is to assume that at the time of the action you are working with 100% knowledge, firing on all cylinders, and that you were, in fact, at the time or at any time a whole and complete and perfect being with nothing left to learn, nothing left to know, nothing left to fail at.

while we all "should know better" sometimes we don't. sometimes we know but there's something else at work. for some reason there's room left to fail. and sometimes it's not clear until later. and sometimes we're just slow learners. A LOT OF THE TIMES we're just slow learners.

even if we're "smart" people. sometimes ESPECIALLY if we're "smart" people.

sometimes we have to go running over the same old ground what have we found the same old fears and shitty behaviors.

until we don't.

and isn't there merit in the finally getting it?

because how do we learn? how does a baby learn his first word? take her first step? that hot is pain? that biting is hurtful to someone else?

it's modeled, we practice till we don't fall, we hurt ourselves till we learn how to not, we hurt others until we learn what it means to actually hurt another person and then we stop.

it's no different as adults. young, middle aged, or otherwise.

we are all here for a reason. with our own path and our own timetable. if we miss a step or screw up the cosmic schedule, it's gonna come around again for another shot. the same step, the same moments. over and over and over until we. get. it.

a system that is at once totally awesome with the potential to be totally heartbreaking and shitty, too. at least until you. get. it.

and while others can be hurt by our cosmic schedules and missteps, they cannot dictate where we "should" be. they cannot hurry us along or shame us into "getting it." everyone gets there when they get there.

shit, it's a wonder anyone can "stay together" or have lifelong friendships or even come to like and continue to like a group of people (family) they never chose in the first place!

regret means the lesson hasn't been learned. regret functions simply to keep us down. you did this you are bad and now you must regret.

bullshit.

that's not how i taught my babies and that's not how i'll nurture my own self.

everyone makes mistakes. and mistakes are only mistakes until you correct them. then they are learning experiences.

regret impedes the learning.

now, that being said, i do not for one moment believe that i am exonerated completely for things i have done, people i have hurt, etc. that's not how it works. and that's not what this is about. because i don't beat myself up with regret doesn't mean the past is erased, and it doesn't automatically soothe the achey spot in someone's heart with my name on it.

that's a whole 'nother ball game that must be played in its own way.

as far as just the personal regret, when we keep ourselves from the lesson, from the getting it and moving forward, there is no way we can be "better" friends, partners, family. and by better i mean someone who got the lesson and knows enough to not squash the boundaries, to not cross the lines, to not bite.

so to all of you silly mortals out there, go easy on yourselves.

life was never meant to be lived in a day. because no matter what, there's always another day, one more chance to learn, and to get it, and to move on.

shanah tova!

x.

p.s. the tree up there is stainless steel. i don't know what that crow knows or doesn't know about that "tree", but he seemed pretty happy perched up there.

this is me giving the bird to your GOP MiG.

dear sarah palin,

i watched your debate on thursday.

i suppose you are pretty pleased with yourself.

that's the way to keep shattering that glass ceiling. by keeping the expectations so low you'll have no place to go but up. you go girl! you show your girls how it is DONE!

which just proves you are indeed a product of the american education system. you should be on a stamp.

during the debate, among the other noise emitted from your yap, i heard you talking about john mccain and what he knows and especially what he's learned. you said that a lot in prefacing your glowing remarks about him. what he's learned.

what have you learned, sarah palin? because you seem just as dumb as the box of hammers you were as dumb as five weeks ago. in five weeks of being coached and coddled and exaulted on high, what have you learned?

how to strap on the highest heels possible and be bitchy with a smile?

because where i come from that's called jr. high.

and one might have thought you'd be a bit farther along by now.

but, maybe like your pregnancies, it just takes longer for you to show than everyone else?

regardless, i think you are one of the worst things to happen to american politics.

and i lived through dan quayle and karl rove. and cheney more than once.

oh, yes, and let's not forget george w. bush. remember him? current sitting president? yeah, i keep forgetting about him, too.

and i actually miss old ronald regan.

/shudder.

i will never forgive you for forcing me to type that sentence above. never.

but what i will mostly never forgive you for, you and your little old man, is for RUINING the word maverick. for essentially making maverick a four letter word. because i loved the real maverick. loved him. and goose and iceman, too. i even loved jester.

hey, did you know tim robbins was in that movie? i know, weird, right? he played merlin. i always forget that. of course he wasn't the big star he is today.

oh, and he's a HUGE democrat so i just betcha he doesn't like you either.

i loved them all and even named my second born wingman because i love them so much. but especially maverick. loved him. and since you made maverick a dirty word he just seems, well, icky. and unlovable anymore.

(to be fair, it wasn't a far fall. what with the couch jumping, and the antics, and the overall i went off my meds but nobody can tell, tee hee! tee hee! behavior, it wasn't a far fall indeed.)

you are a smart girl, sarah, i'll give you that. a very smart girl indeed.

because you've somehow made your way into the very fabric of american culture AND on perez hilton *without* taking your clothes off or having to go on a reality show.

and i just betcha you could even be a guest host on regis and kelly now! or the view!

well played, sarah, well played.

x.

eagle, 1971.

so yesterday we went on a field trip to the outdoor sculpture park across the pond. i had arranged this trip awhile ago, and wouldn't you know it it was the first rain after weeks of beautiful weather?

the thing about the outdoor sculpture park is that it's so beautiful. you're there, you can see it from the street, but it's not until you get in there that you realize you haven't seen a thing. its hidden pockets of art, beautiful landscaping, thoughtful placement of pieces. it's really beautiful.

even in the rain. and the artwork is so inviting. looking at it from a distance is one thing. but actually getting up close with it right there and towering over you is incredible.

and you. can't. touch. a. thing.

even though it's outside and in the elements 24/7 you can't touch it. ever.

sooo, with a bunch of kids i was a little wary, but they did really really well. we walked through the towering serra, and paused in front of the intriguing pepper, and marveled at the "interesting" di suvero.

then we got to the calder that you see above you.

now, this kind of abstract art is not my thing. from afar it's interesting, i suppose. i could really take it or leave it.

but as we got closer and closer i got more interested in it. as it became more near than far, it took on a different look. less "abstract" more inviting. and when we got right to it the docent gathered all the kids underneath and was asking them their impressions and ideas about the sculpture.

do you see that it's an eagle?

yeah, me either. but that's abstract for you. like stacked fusion cuisine. or creepy pretentious cocktails in fussy glasses. not my thing.

anyway, so the parents are hanging back and kids are all excited to say what they think it looks like. then the docent starts to explain about the piece. that it's steel. that it's painted steel with a patented color. that this "red" (i think it looked orangeish up close, but what do i know?) can't be found anywhere else.

she went on about alexander calder, and this work in particular, and she mentioned that he sculpted this piece the year i was born. we are the same age, i thought. she went on and talked about how this piece represented calder's idea about the combination of pragmatism and poetry. she could be describing me, i thought.

and as i looked closer, and felt what it was really like being that close up to so much paint and steel, it reminded me of the golden gate bridge. the color similar, well, similar enough, and the idea that paint and steel, such ordinary and "pragmatic" things can be combined into something beautiful. "poetic" if you will.

and i remembered that day i walked across the golden gate bridge so long ago, and the feeling of awe and interest, of enormity, how i was scared and thrilled at the same time. how the drizzly windy day when i walked across that bridge was not unlike this day. how two separate experiences, a lifetime apart, had such a strong connection. and had made that connection known right inside of me. right here. right now.

and i was thinking about these things as i stood under this great sculpture.

and then i saw one rain drop running down the side. i watched it travel down this painted steel of the patented color and it seemed soft. not the raindrop, the steel. the whole sculpture felt big and strong and enormous, yet it felt like if you touched it it would be soft and yeilding.

pragmatic and poetic.

and before i knew it i reached out and touched that raindrop and began to trace it down the side.

"UH, NO! NO! remember, we can't touch the sculptures!"

and with a collective whip all eyes were on me. all the kids. all the moms. the docent. the docent with the pained smile.

and like coming out of a fog, i looked up and noticed i had my finger on the sculpture and pulled it down really fast.

i didn't look at the duke or wingman to see if they were completely mortified, i just mumbled an apology and the moment was over.

and that's it. i touched the calder. the 14 kids from 4 years old to 13 years old didn't touch the sculptures. but i did.

of course i did. sigh.

and i wasn't falsely accused like last time. and i have no excuse. no touching, and i touched.

and you know what?

it did feel soft and yielding. just like i thought it would.

x.

bon jour!

i found this heart shaped rock on a hike we took a few weeks ago. you hike down down down through the forest and then it opens up onto a cove on the water. it was very pretty. and then when you are done you hike up up up. and then up some more.

to the boybarians' credit i didn't hear a peep of complaint!

the thing is though, see all those rocks? not the heart shaped one but all the rest of them? well, as we approached the cove a part of the trail was flooded over with a running stream. so we shucked our shoes and waded through. and the cove was just about there so we hiked over these rocks, barefoot until we got there instead of putting our shoes back on wet and muddy feet.

only wingman's little tootsies gave out on the rocks and he could go no further.

so what's a mother to do? i hauled him up on my hip, all 45+ pounds of him, dense and tightly packed pounds i might add, and carried him barefoot over those little sharp rocks the rest of the way.

good times.

anyhow, today is the first full day of rosh hashanah! happy new year!

i have more to say on that later in the week.

but for now we are busy busy and have a jam packed afternoon if we can get through the morning.

in the meantime, i wanted to let you know that the duke started french yesterday. and he got 100% on his pronunciation the first day! i know i know, it's the first day, but still!

he has a head set with a microphone and the computer analyzes the accent. he did say he missed one or two and the computer let him know, then on the repeat he nailed it! so the final score was 100%

hey, accent is half the battle! i took five years of french and i know so very little and my accent is whack! so i'm very proud of him and hope he keeps up with it.

and along those lines, A NEW WINE BLOG TONIGHT!!! and in honor of the duke's early (and hopefully continued) success with french i will be reviewing a wine from the south of france!

woo! hoo!

or oui! oui!

enjoy your tuesday.

x.

reason # 39476 why i shouldn't leave the house.

i'm supposed to be working.

i'm supposed to be chopping and mixing and arranging for a party i agreed to do the food for tomorrow night. a party of 150 at a rented venue. a big party.

but i'm not.

and now i will tell you a story.

the other day i was at the store to gather some of what i needed for cooking today and to price out items to purchase a few days later.

so i needed 8 heads of napa cabbage. for a salad i'm making much like the one you see above you. like that big red solo cup of beer at the edge of the picture? good times.

anyway, where was i? oh yeah, so the store had just a few heads from what it looked like, and ON SALE, so i asked the produce guy if they would be getting more in. he checked and then came back and told me

"there is not more napa cabbage coming in in the near future, but maybe we'll get some."

huh? what does that even mean? the state of education in this country. i swear.

so now i had a dilemma. do i buy up what they have now and find room in my fridge for days on end until i needed them, or do i risk coming back in two days to see if they still had some or got some in? drive around town looking for 8 heads of napa cabbage at the sure to be more expensive stores? i doubted my budget or my recipe could deal with the gamble.

i called the lord of the ring to ask his opinion on this particular situation and it's just because he's a gentleman AND because i nearly died giving birth to his children, TWICE, that he didn't hang up on me and pretend the call dropped.

so i was on my own with this, and i pondered and decided to just buy up what they had now. just in case. so i ended up cleaning them out and got 7 heads of napa cabbage.

so i'm pushing my cart around the store pricing out some other ingredients. i was looking at olives when i felt something behind me. like a "presence." something disturbing in the fabric of the universe, yet there was no sound.

i slowly turned around and there was a gaggle of elderly asian women circling my cart.

uh. oh.

i walked over and one of them asked me but without "asking"

"where did you get all this chinese cabbage!"

"um, in the produce section."

"there's none left!"

"um, yeah, i cleaned them out."

how come i was feeling so nervous. like everything i said in the next five minutes was going to be measured and weighed and i better not screw it up. i started to sweat. they started to press in closer. i couldn't tell how many, it was all beginning to blur.

i didn't trust the one in the back in the knitted cap who kept pawing at my cabbages, i moved protectively in front of my cart.

"we came down here to buy chinese cabbage and you got here before us!"

"yeah. sorry."

"why do you need all this chinese cabbage!"

i explained about the party and the food i was making. all the while keeping my hand on the cart handle and my eye on the one in the knitted cap.

after awhile they seemed to be satisfied with my answer but no less irritated and begrudgingly let me go.

it felt oddly like being released that time on the border.

i waited until i was around the corner then i sprinted to the check out counter and hightailed it out of there before they changed their minds.

and for two days i've had 7 heads of napa cabbage waiting for my knife in the fridge. i didn't even bother to find another head just in case i ran into the elderly asian chinese cabbage cartel on the hunt.

so i'm off to chop!

enjoy your weekend!

x.

can i get a witness!

"My heart is singing for joy this morning. A miracle has happened! The light of understanding has shone upon my little pupil's mind, and behold, all things are changed." Anne Sullivan

we all like to think our children are smart, gifted, special.

and they all are.

but when you are their teacher and they are your student, well, it becomes a bit more dicey if they are "not."

and by "not", i mean just average. or heavens agast! below average.

which is NOT a bad thing. at. all. it is what it is.

except if you are the one responsible for their entire education.

get where i'm going with this?

i have never pushed my children academically. sure, we have a pretty stiff curriculum compared to some, and sure i don't allow slacking off of that just because we are home doing it, BUT i don't push.

they learn at their rate and to the best of their ability. and what they learn, well, it's their to own. i just provide the space and facilitate the process.

my kids aren't geniuses, nor do i want them to be.

and i am fully aware of the public vs. home school mystique regarding the myth of genius. i don't buy it. there are geniuses in public schools and average kids who are home schooled.

that being said, good lord when you look at your child and he's absorbed the very thing you've been attempting to teach him, THE VERY THING, well, it's a moment folks.

it's a treasured moment.

like when you let go of the bike seat and they don't notice and they don't topple. when they spend the whole night in a bed other than yours and continue to do so every night after.

and when they spend a whole night in said bed and wake up dry.

when they say mama, papa, or NO! and mean it for the first time.

the first time they laugh.

the first time you see them.

knowing that a concept is grasped, understood, and regurgitated in the necessary context, and that you. facilitated. this., well, it's a moment.

in other news i leave you with a quote from the duke on the mccain;

"boy, you can just hear him getting older every time he talks"

and just so you know, we've talked about age, ageism, and how people can be competent at ALL KINDS of ages, but why HE AT HIS AGE and with related issues (i.e. leaving us to be raised by palin like a bunch of red headed stepchild orphans from the wrong ass side of the brimstone) scares us so much.

he's a smart ass, that one. and i cannot for the life of me begin to imagine where he picked that up.

x.

just a little hello.

this little guy was at the butterfly house at the zoo. pretty, no?

and now a quote from wingman to carry you into your weekend.

"i LOVE group hugs! especially with other people!"

indeed.

and listen, as easy as it is, don't be afraid of what's happening in this country. don't lose sight of the goal by letting fear cloud your vision.

cognizant and aware, yes. afraid, no.

don't be scared. be productive.

get out the vote, and keep your chin up. find a way to take that fear and make it work for you, not against you.

it's easy to hold on, it's letting go that takes some doing.

let go of the fear and get to work. today.

the clock is ticking and it's that important.

x.

well, that was exhausting.

i watched all the democratic speeches and all the republican speeches and all the rhetoric and tabloidy news in between.

and i came away with more than a few things, but i've boiled it down and i'd like to share them with you.

the republicans scare me.

big surprise.

their whole message was one of attack. there was no policy and nothing about what they could do for the average american person. just attack attack attack.

i was sad to see giuliani being so bitchy. he's never been a favorite of mine, but i think he sunk to a new low in his speech.

palin is a mean girl. period.

she's smug and snarky. and not in a good way. and how dare she call out obama on anything. who in the hell does she think she is?

and that creepy smile and the way she crinkles her nose? plus she's a teeth licker. not to be trusted.

in fact, she reminds me of dolores umbridge from the harry potter books and movies.

i have a LOT more to say about her, but i think there isn't anything i can say that hasn't been said already. but i will say this, she scares me. she scares me because she thinks she has something that puts her in a special spot. that puts her in the "deserving" category. she scares me because she wants everyone to lay off her family, then she parades them in front of everyone and dares them to say a thing.

she's the girl that would leave her diary open on her bed and go to the kitchen to get you a snack and leave you alone in her room. she's the girl that would dare you to, lead you to it, and then rip you to shreds when you fall for it.

i know girls like her. and i don't like girls like her.

and i don't get this whole "oh, you're just afraid of a strong woman."

she's not a strong woman. she's a mean girl. she's no better than the 16 year old bitch in high school who everyone wants to be friends with but is secretly afraid of.

i say just keep letting out the rope and she'll eventually do herself in.

what saddened me most was john mccain. he's always been very reticent to even discuss his POW experience, much less trot it out for political gain. and yet, last night, he did just that.

in great detail and more than we had ever heard before, he packaged his most personal challenge for prime time and sold out right in front of us. and as he was speaking, telling the stories, reliving it for all of us, you could just see how much it cost him. how much he was giving away hoping for greater return.

it was truly heartbreaking to watch. he is not his own man anymore. last night was his "divorce" from the republican party in terms of where he's aligning his campaign, but it certainly doesn't mean he's in charge of his destination anymore.

someone convinced him that talking about his POW experience would be a "good idea" and that someone was wrong.

moving right along, i cried at all the democratic speeches because well, i cry at everything. and they're always so full of hope and a climb every mountain thread of rhetoric.

i like that. plus, again, i cry at everything.

bill clinton is still a great speaker. it was nice to hear from al gore, he's looking less bloated these days and is doing far better than everyone else from the old days is. of course i loved hillary's speech and i'm glad from all her color choices she chose the orange pantsuit. whew.

joe biden made me cry. i really like him, but then i would.

obama did less of the big old speech givin' and toned it down and layed down a lot of policy. i know some were dissapointed, they wanted the big old speech, but i suspect he did it the way he did to appeal to the undecided, the stubborn holdouts from the sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits, and the racists.

and now we wait.

in the meantime if you are not registered to vote for whatever reason, go register. or you've moved recently, or your county, state, city has changed voting rules, regulations, etc, check it out and make sure you're up on the changes and ready for election day.

don't let them tell you different, every. vote. counts.

and i don't give a rat's ass who you're gonna vote for (well, actually i do) just vote.

i'd really like to finally see what this country can do if the majority of us are putting in our 2 cents!

and that's my 2 cents.

i wish you all a fabulous weekend!

and now, here are some pretty boats.

x.

sarah palin is the new trainwreck. evil genius is the new black.

(i removed the photo because it occurred to me that not everyone would understand that it was a fake.)

okay, so i was hanging laundry, drinking wine, being irritated.

every day since i woke up friday morning to sarah palin i've gotten just a little bit more irritated.

why in the SAM HELL sarah palin!?!

there is so much wrong with her! SO MUCH!

AND someone we can't even campaign against!!!

with all the family stuff and the messiness and the woman thing and the this and that and then a bit more of this, NO ONE WILL TOUCH HER! NO ONE!

she's not ready to be VP let alone president. she says she threw out the good ol' boys in her state but she IS the good ol' boys. she has zero foreign policy, a belly full of pork, ethics investigations, and threatens people with their jobs if they don't side with her.

she once even threatened to fire a librarian because the librarian wouldn't remove the "obscene" books from the library. a librarian!

she is a trainwreck and she hasn't even left the station! she's her own walking advertisement of what NOT to do! does she not get that the information, ALL OF IT IS OUT THERE! does she not get that EVERY LAST skeleton, picture, and e-mail about her and her family will be available to EVERY LAST person in america! does she even care?

supporting bridge to nowhere and then misappropriating the funds and then spinning the whole thing when you get picked to run for VP = whatever government pork and flip flops are selling for that week.

selling your family down the river for political gain = priceless

why did he pick her!!!

aaaaannnnnnddddd, that's when i got it and could actually hear the greedy little hands rubbing together

"i love it when a plan comes together!"

fuckin' mccain picked THE ONE CANDIDATE that could rally some, abhor others, but is sssssssooooooo messy no one can go after her without looking like a hard assed bastard.

and mccain?

poooooor mccain! had NO idea his pick was so messy. NO idea of the family troubles. so LITTLE vetting. ppppoooor mccain couldn't have crazy old lieberman because the republican constituents wouldn't allow that in a million years, FORCED to pick someone else, so he did a "good thing", a "maverick thing" by picking palin and NOW JUST look at the mess he's in. ppppoooor mccain just. didn't. know.

BUT WAIT! he's standing by her. and so is his wife and this conservative group and that and on and on and on. they are all going on and on and on about what a great pick it was and how sarah palin will be a great thing for this country. oh yeah, and she has some issues. but who doesn't?

um. right. when you've got the "morality" at all costs driven conservatives not saying a word and telling everyone it's none of our business, and acting like we should be proud of her how she is handling it all, then you know it's bad.

and john mccain supports her 100% and stands by her record and defends her right to her family privacy, even though she's practically waving it in our faces just waiting for someone to say something.

what a guy! standing by the troubled girl!

and there you have it.

a manufactured cuckold arrangement for the sole sake of garnering votes.

and she's pretty. and can turn on a political dime to appease the masses and do it well. it doesn't matter she doesn't know what in the hell she's talking about.

she talks a good game and looks good doing it.

so noble to keep the chin up for her family. so noble to "withstand" so much of the "unfair" media scrutiny into her "private life." holding strong and steadfast for her family, for this nation.

john mccain, the upstanding guy who will "do the right thing" and sarah palin, the troubled girl with the heart of gold.

what a story!

unfortunately, john hughes did it first. i'm sure disney perfected it.

fortunately, the formula is already there and now all the republicans have to do is repackage it for the times.

all along we knew. all along there was the "they are evil but not stupid" sentiment, and now we know that's true.

no one can touch biden. his record, his life, his kids, his speaking abilities, his intellect, his EVERYMAN FROM THE WORKING CLASS persona, and he can debate with the best of them.

no one can touch him.

and now, the republicans, for the very worst reasons, have one of their own.

it's time for those 18 million glass cracks to come shattering down.

ENTER THE WOMAN WITH NOTHING TO LOSE WHO COULD USE A BOOST AND WHO IS FIGHTING MAD

i say hillary throws caution to the wind for once. takes down the road map that has so ultimately disappointed her in the end and has more importantly, not allowed her to EVER get angry, or get even, or have a lick of fun in the better part of three decades.

i say hillary throws off the pantsuit and gloves up. i say she takes this woman to task like no one else would.

SCREW the possible judicial seat, or diplomatic appointment, or whatever.

because we all know she's not getting shit. not now. not then. not ever.

and besides, it doesn't matter what you give her because she will never get what she really wanted and what she had to sacrifice and fight for all this time.

i say she says ENOUGH!!! and goes after the very idea of palin and the sheer stupidity of it as even a notion, the sheer lunacy of it all as even a notion, and exposes the party, their candidates, and their constituency for all they aren't worth.

she needs to shout from the rooftops, better yet the network couches, and let everyone know that the emperor is indeed not wearing a thing and anyone who says different is selling something and the people buying are a bunch of idiots.

someone has to say something.

because this is just too, too, much.

the only strength people like that have is in the rest of everybody else having too much fear to speak up. fear of back lash. fear of exposure.

fear of saying what every one else is thinking and too scared to say because it would be too easy.

and it would be mean. boo hoo.

and i think mccain and his campaign picked their vp based exactly on that premise.

evil genius is the new black.

sick hillary on her and let's finally get somewhere.

x.

building, um, bridges.

so mccain picked palin.

a knee jerk reaction to the democratic convention and the hillary/obama situation and not a wise choice in my opinion.

if he thinks he's going to get the hillary vote i think he's sadly mistaken.

hillary supporters were for hillary. not just *any* woman will do just because she's a woman.

it doesn't translate that easily. the sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits is a tougher nut to crack than that.

and sure, palin has her points going for her. unfortunately i think this is just a case of finding the body to fill the skirt. "progressive" as it is, she's still a republican. the sidekick to a flip flopping, bush loving, status quo supporter of all that is fucked up in this country. the sidekick to the guy who is running for a third bush/cheney term.

well when you put it like who in the hell cares that's she's a woman!?! who would sign up for that!

the feminist in me is not amused.

but, that dude is old. and not in the best of health. so perhaps the republican party could give us the first woman in the white house and perhaps the first female commander in chief.

stranger things...

it's at least, at the. very. least, somewhat of a bridge to the future. even if for the wrong reasons, it's a bridge.

fuck, poor hillary. damn if there's not always someone younger faster and prettier comin' up on her heels! everywhere she turns! and this latest one an actual beauty queen!

she just can't catch a break.

x.

i was wondering what he's been up to.

i assure you i am not having nearly as much fun as our commander in chief.

busy here. will be back. behave yourselves!

(you too, george)

x.

camping.

we've been away camping.

this is the view from our campsite.

pretty, no?

every year we camp on the san juan islands at this site with another family. there's a lot of fishing, both salt water and fresh, trips to town for ice cream and boat watching, and everybody gets along, has a total blast, and it's a lot of fun.

other than an end of summer all boy camp out in the back pasture in a few weeks this is the last big summer activity.

in other news, soccer starts next week for the duke. we've always had a one sport a year rule because i don't like the idea that each new season brings a wholesale schedule dedication to yet another sport and team.

but the duke has always wanted to play soccer so we decided to try it out this year.

truth be told, i found a pair of brand new totally terrific soccer cleats in his size for 4.99 at target and that's what sealed my decision.

god, i am so damned cheap. whatever gets you there, right?

BUT, i heard from a friend, who's totally tapped into the public school community, that she heard that the duke's coach is a "yeller." oy.

in the meantime, i've got laundry and unpacking and school to facilitate so i bid you adieu.

enjoy your wednesday!

x.

basketball jones.

so as you can see, i've taken another picture of my morning coffee. this is simply to illustrate something i recently found out about photography.

did you know that when you take a picture of coffee with cream, even a little cream, the color of the coffee ends up looking like watered down hot chocolate? which can be illustrated by yesterday's photo. which is my morning coffee with very little cream and no sugar.

so if you think about it, when you see pictures of coffee in a cup, they are nearly always of straight black coffee. which just looks better regardless of how you take your coffee and screams "cuppa joe!"

it's kinda like when i found out they use watered down glue for pouring milk shots in commercials because it looks more "milky" than regular milk.

and now lets all let out a collective "huh."

all right, moving right along. i'm supposed to be at yoga. but i hurt my shoulder playing basketball yesterday and have to take the day off. bummer. yoga, oddly enough, has become my "thing."

and when i say i was playing basketball what i mean is i was shooting hoops by myself. i try to "play" with the boybarians but inevitably the duke gets all agro and elbowy and grabby and shovey and then wingman gets goofy and the whole thing is just less like fun and exercise and more like another parenting challenge for the day.

and in case you are wondering, yes, i made the shot that hurt my shoulder. 3 points and a perfect swish, nothing but net. and no, it wasn't worth it.

so instead we started school early so we can leave the house at a reasonable time for some errands and visiting with friends before baseball tonight.

along those lines i will give you a "and this is why i love my job" moment from yesterday.

okay, i know i said we are just doing math and latin this month but it turns out wingman and i had some history to finish before we start the new book in september.

and yesterday we got to learn about siddhartha. and how he came to be buddha. and wingman was listening in his half interested half let's get this over with way until the end. until the end of the lesson when it is actually revealed that siddhartha is buddha when his eyes went wide and big and incredulous, and his head shot up from the arm rest of the couch.

"what? he's buddha? he was a guy? a real guy?"

and then he had that smile and that little chuckle he gets when he learns something new AND interesting and went to tell his papa all about it. just in case he didn't know. and then his brother. just in case he didn't know.

history coming to life is a priceless gift to a child. almost magical even.

and makes my job more than worth it.

x.

monday.

we made it through the first week of school and now we are on to our second.

it seems to be going well. there's been no breaking down in tears, hysterical fits, or running away.

and the boybarians seems to be doing okay also.

buh dump bump.

there's still plenty more summer to be had, but i definitely am more and more feeling the shift towards a new season.

it's so funny how we can't wait for summer! then we can't wait for fall! for christmas! for spring!

hurrying through the last, and sometimes best, bit of each season in favor of relishing the beginning of the next. shiny shiny! we love the shiny and new.

silly. mortals. indeed.

and it's a good thing this earth exists with seasons playing such a huge part in civilization. because imagine if there weren't any seasons? imagine the same day over and over only changed by how we are feeling that day. with absolutely no influence either positive, negative, or indifferent by the ever changing weather or the turning leaves or the sense of renewal and rebirth or conversely of the cold and the darkness, of closing up and looking in?

it would be like living in stasis.

or phoenix.

x.

the apple. the tree. not a far fall.

so on monday when the duke was starting his new latin book he encountered a review based on the vocabulary he learned in the two previous books.

"hey! this is a review and i have never seen this word before in my life!"

"maybe you've just forgotten it?"

"nope! i have a feeling i've been bruckheimered!"

in other news, i hope you are enjoying my poppy pictures because besides the lavender (that thrives on benign neglect so i'm not sure it counts)the poppies are the only show in town. i am a hopeless gardener, no wait, i'm not hopeless, but rather hopeful.

i've figured out the real problem is that my dirt sucks. all of it. even if i take the necessary steps towards being a passable green thumb, my dirt ultimately thwarts those efforts.

at some point i'm going to have to remedy this situation. story of my life.

compost? steer manure? take all the dirt out and replace it? who knows.

BUT, in the meantime, california golden poppies apparently thrive in poor soil. they love it! and if they can grow on the side of freeways and in vacant busted concrete lots then they can grow in my soil! right!

well, they weren't growing. they weren't blooming. they weren't doing anything.

and then, they did.

faith and patience. like anything else in life it's all about faith and patience.

and failing that, a healthy layer of bull shit never hurts.

x.

the four buck yogi.

so this morning i felt well enough to go to yoga.

unfortunately, i was running late.

so naturally i was speeding down the road (okay, can i just say that i never speed. ever. so when i say i was speeding down the road it means i was doing approximately 53 in a 50 MPH zone. scandalous, i know)

so i was speeding down the road when i get waaay slowed up by a utility truck going 40! crap!

who goes 40 in a 50 MPH zone!?! losers, that's who!

i start getting all kvetchy at the driver in front of me, shouting out loud in the confines of my own truck, a few choice words and the whole nine yards, when it hits me.

double crap! i am not only breaking the law and risking life and limb speeding down the road now i'm getting all road ragey too!

all to get to yoga? what's wrong with this picture?

clearly someone needs more time with the buddha.

so i slowed down (to be fair, i had NO choice ) and took a deep breath and drove the rest of the way in relative calm.

who's the loser now, huh?

people are weird. we're late so we maximize and compound any potential drama by breaking the law and putting ourselves and those around us at risk. all to get to a desk, or an appointment, or yoga on time?

don't get me wrong, being late is not something i enjoy. in fact, i've been known to get fairly agro about it, but as i get older i am realizing i spend more time fretting about being late or hollering at the boybarians to hurry up or taking my anxiety out on the road than i should. all for what? a few minutes?

because if getting somewhere on time means doing any of those things, all with their own potential short term or long term risks, then it's not worth it. it seems like it is, or you don't even think about it, but it's not.

especially yoga! and 4 buck yoga to boot! good lord.

and while we're on the subject, i'll tell you what you get for your money when you do 4 buck yoga.

the last 10 minutes of yoga, which are typically reserved for the relaxation/corpse pose, deep breathing, closed eyes, low lights, and soothing music, coincide perfectly, as if planned by bruckheimer himself, with the first 10 minutes of arrival for the pre-school in the room next door.

namaste.

x.

today.

today was the first day of school.

today it's my wedding anniversary.

today i have a cold.

tomorrow fall baseball (a month long clinic) starts for both boybarians which means today i have to gather all the stuff they're going to need. cleats, do they still fit? cups, wingman has never had one, bat bags, a new bat!?! of course because wingman's bat is for t-ball. new mouth guards for both, they think they need new batting gloves but that's not happening. and on and on and on. it's worse than a traveling broadway show, i swear.

ooops! i think i might be too busy to post.

carry on.

x.