September 23, 2003
the joy of ditches
Tuesdays are fun. I get to spend the whole day with my son.
We snuggled in bed, drew lots of pictures of very big boats, picked plums(with me holding Sam up by his legs so he could get the ones that were too high even for tall mama to reach), and played with the IloveSam webpage that Daniel invented-Sam loves it, he gets to write stuff and pick the fonts, colors and sizes of the letters and backgrounds and such.
But the best thing of all was our sunny afternoon in the ditch down the street. It's a fairly deep ditch and the culvert under the road lets a goodsize stream flow out into it. There's a nice deep area with a good bed of gravel, dirt and rocks... Perfect for a little boy to romp in.
I lay in the grass-at a good distance to keep the enthusiastic sploshing off my paper-and drew hands for my 'ssage business card. After tossing as many big rocks in as he could(with shrieking giggles as punctuation for the splashes) he settled down to the grand engineering project of building a dam.
A few passersby smiled, though one very well-coifed lady with a baby in a stroller and a small boy trailing after looked somewhat aghast and disapproving at me and my small, very dirty, wet heathen child scooping up armfuls of grubby gravel in the ditch. I smiled nonchalantly at the clean little family and waved at the boy as he walked by with his eyes avidly drinking in the sight of Sam and his dam.
Quite a pond was forming above the dam and as it kept finding ways to trickle over and flow downstream, Sam got all excited and busted right through the middle! It was glorious. An enormous(well, at least to a kidlet)whoosh of water rushed out and momentarily flooded the stream. A(very cute)teenage boy passing by with a guitar slung over his arm caught the finale and with a laugh and a grin, tripped over a rock. It was a priceless moment.
Now, the kidlets are freshly bathed, nailtrimmed and toothbrushed and it's time for me to put them to bed.
September 19, 2003
We're off for an exciting weekend of camping(cabinstyle) at Chito Beach resort with the kids and a whole buncha friends.
it's gonna be soooo fuuuuuuuuun!!!
See y'all when I get back.
September 16, 2003
asked me to draw a portrait of her for her homework assignment.
She's 48 inches tall, 48 pounds heavy and when she grows up she's gonna be blond with, apparently, a small alien on a leash.
For countless eons we toiled through the dark, dank tunnels of Moria, our sorry path lit only by what dim magelight we sould still summon and the phosphorescence of creatures far too ghastly to describe. Finally, exhausted and despairing, scratched and bruised from the nasty, knife-edged rootses, we saw in the distance a glowing light and I thought I heard a voice... But perhaps my desperate ears befuddled me for the sound I heard was beautiful, like the giggling of elves...
Hope blossomed anew in our weary hearts and we strove forward
The light shone brighter, brilliant blond.
We pushed our way through the cruel roots, and there, revealed in all it's glory in the joyous sunshine, was the elf prince himself, Samadhi, just a small boy, but the fairest sight our eyes had ever chanced upon.
Would he let us pass?
Sammy and the vine monster
pull, Sam, pull!
this calls for reinforcements!
Dakini the Subaru was pretty filthy when we got back from retreat, so I enlisted the aid of the kids.
Pretty soon, on that hot, sunny day(so unlike today)the Dakini was nice and shiney again.
September 11, 2003
...with Terra(all the while sculpting little udder-boobed goddesses from clay) 'til my phonebent neck starts to hurt... Well, it just feeds my soul.
Texas doesn't know what a treasure it has.
I gotta go eat something...
My mama said so.
the love rabi?
Holy Shmuley! This is apparently the guy who will be interviewing my sister regarding her book on sept 24th at noon
"Not exactly what you'd expect from a rabbi" --LA Times
"This orthodox rabbi is on a special mission to keep lust and intimacy alive and thriving in marriage" --The Sun
"He’s Dr. Ruth with a yarmulke." --Washington Post
“Boteach possesses the power to surprise as much as he does to preach.” --Publisher’s Weekly
“The media can’t resist this fast-talking rabbi.” --Salon.com
"His engaging style, linking Jewish biblical beliefs and Mosaic law with the down and dirty details of sexual intimacy, has attracted a huge audience." -- Atlanta Journal Constitution
“A prolific Orthodox rabbi [and] a leading sex and dating expert.” --Lifestyles
“The Love Rabbi.” --The Philadelphia Inquirer
"Fourteen books and seven children, pretty impressive credentials for a sexpert. " --Loverzan
Kaya kitty sure is getting a lotta love. She slept with me the whole night with the deluxe kitty lovepig sessions, much bellyflopping, chinscratching and mewling. She has such a plaintive, tiny, delicate sort of mew. It's very expressive of a big need in a diminutive way.
Now I'm in here blogging and here she is, begging for more!
I woke up with my journals on my pillow this morning. I had read through them last night trying to gather the threads of my thoughts and feelings and hoping to find some answer to the challenges my relationship with D is undergoing.
The giraffe journal is from...almost 2 years ago when I first met him and is ablaze with my delight, admiration and love.
The second journal, the snuggling tiger journal, is mostly empty. I started writing in it last night, didn't really get anywhere and stopped. It seemed such a stark contrast from then to now.
Living together seems to make it difficult to see each other.
That first sight of pure delight and admiration gives way to something more mundane, more human and much less adorable.
It's easier to see each others faults than to sustain that vision of firstlove, of truly seeing and believing in another persons goodness. It's easy to let resentments gain the upper hand, to let pride come before love, to get angry, to give up.
All these sad thoughts came rushing into my head as I wiped my sleepy eyes and picked up the journal.
As I started to write again I heard the soft footfalls of my tiny boy enter the room. Sam always comes in quietly, so quietly he is usually all the way to the side of the bed before I feel his presence.
Today especially, his sweet smile and gleeful "MAMA!" flooded me with joy and he hopped up into my arms for a big wolfcuddle.
He saw the journals and insisted that I go through them with him and read all the good parts-my poems and his songs and dreams. It was so fun and so very cool. He thought it very funny that in the middle of a page of journaling from over a year ago it said, in very large letters: I MISS DANIEL! Sam repeated it, laughing again and again and I had to laugh too, missing Daniel.
It's good to be the mama of such a dear boy.
cheese, soup and cocoa
Ok, so those things don't really seem like that great a combination, but it was just the thing tonight.
Jess unexpectedly stopped by and after some much needed girlgab, she, Ben, Rowan and I whipped up a deluxe chicken soup, preceded by a multitude of fine cheeses and tiny little frozen grapes(Sammy, Rowan and I picked them ourselves up on meadowbrook hill-the grapes, not the cheeses) and followed by cocoa with kahlua and Baileys.
So nice after a long day of busrides and landscaping in the rain. Man did I ever get filthy today! Transplanting calla lilies with Levi and Kara, trimming ivy, clearing away juniper(nasty little plantses, those) and so on. I'm gonna have to wash my jacket before I can wear it again.
I sure know an awful lot of landscapers...Dirty girls, the lot of 'em.
Stumbling over cushions in the darkness,
My chest works to breathe, heavy with mental afflictions.
Trickling slowly as withheld tears.
Lost in the catastrophe of my own mind,
It congeals around me like yesterdays resentment.
Praying and aching for the darkness to lift,
If only I wasn't so tired. If only I could concentrate.
Falling unconscious, I wonder where it all goes,
I wonder if I will just trickle away bit by bit
I wonder if you will miss me.
September 04, 2003
Can you believe this gorgeous babe is my sister?
It's an autobiographical expose on our cultlike childhood upbringing. It's an intense read, heart-wrenching, shocking and sad. It's also a story of strength, determination, courage and triumph.
You can hear her talk about it live on Talk America Radio September 24th at 3:06pm Eastern Time(I think that's 12 noon our time?).
Or you can buy it yourself at amazon.
I passed, I passed, I PASSED!!!
After a nailbiting, stressed out evening(last night) of picking through the horrid legalese to study the RCW's of Massage for the State Massage licensing exam which I took this morning at the Tukwila testing center.
Great God, what a relief!
Then I got to sign a form assuring them that I'd never been convicted of such heinous things as exhibitionism, voyeurism, moral terpitude or frotteurism.
I had to ask the nice ladies behind the desk about that last one. I really appreciated their kind manner and good sense of humor. It's invaluable in a position where so many very anxious, stressed out people are coming in every day to be tested. We shared a laugh at my use of "you terpitudinous frotteurist!" as an excellent, if somewhat puzzling, swear word. P'raps Mac should adopt it next time she eviscerates the punks down the hall with her rapacious tongue?
September 03, 2003
stupid, stupid period
Why is it that I always manage to be taken by surprise by my moontime?
I mean, hello, it only happens every freakin' month and fairly regular now too.
Yet somehow it sneaks up on me when I least expect it and I have no clue that my tower of righteous anger at some small misdemeanor on Daniel's part is in fact built to such grand heights with the unstable mortar of oh so many hormones rushing out of control within this subtle womans body of mine.
Even the dissolving into tears after it all fell down didn't clue us in. Or the subsequent horniness...
No, I didn't comprehend until morning meditation, when the cramps began to kick in and the poor meditation cushion paid the price for my lack of awareness.
How the heck are you supposed to clean those things anyway? I guess monks don't really have that problem, huh?
I don't hate my body, or my period. I'm grateful to be a healthy woman with working womanparts... I don't even mind the pain so much. Sometimes I can even tune into the sacredness, the richness of blood and life, the turning and the flow of all things... The common thread of pleasure and pain that connects all beings, mothers and children, man and woman, everyone.
Once, when I was exploring the realm of the Hawaiin baby woodrose seed, I saw that connection, and I laughed out loud at the poignant vision of beauty and purpose behind it all, the primal, noble magnificence and glory of human love relationships and I saw with breathtaking clarity the bittersweetness, the sorrow of misunderstandings, petty mistrust and great fear that clouds our awareness and cause us so much suffering.
I don't recall much of the amazing detail of that voluptuous evening, but I was left with a sense of relief, a dim memory, like the murmur of a goddess half-forgotten, yet deeply reassuring, speaking of truth, love and acceptance. Teaching of the unexpected, the seemingly unfortunate miseries, mistakes and misunderstandings being a part of the path. It comforts me when I feel agonisingly lost and misunderstood. All is not lost! I know that were I able to see clearly, the beauty, the bodhicitta, is still right here hidden under all the muck.
Whoo man, did I ever get off the beaten track with this one.
Anyway, as I was saying, I don't want my periods to go away. In fact I really like the warm, fuzzy, wild, wanton shebeastme that characterises phase two, I just wish I had more of a clue about when all this tempestuousness was going to visit itself upon me.
As Daniel said today, If only there was some little beepbeepbeep that would sound in our heads... "beepbeep! This is your PMS early warning system. Prepare for freaky, unexpected hormone-related bursts of irritation and affection. beepbeep! Apply forgiveness and doting generously to all surfaces and all will be well. beep."
September 01, 2003
Kinda tired and a bit cranky. Retreat was... Well, great really, but rather intense spiritually what with the getting up at 6am every morning to sit in meditation for an hour, lots of deeply challenging relationship work and the ferry schedule wait-in-line-for-hours-and-still-miss-your-boat-hell we went through.
But really, what better setting could there be for soul searching than the gorgeous wild woodlands on top of Mount Tuam on Saltsprings Island? We groggily walked our early morning path to the meditation hall accompanied by the silent gaze of deer and the throaty chuckle of ravens. Then there were the three baby coons who owned the compost pile and would scurry out of the bucket hissing when we walked by, leaping up onto the majestic fir nearby to stare at us with precise synchronisity and incredible cuteness.
It was really great to visit with Nate, who lives up there. He took us up to the top of the mountain and showed us many wondrous, freaky and breathtakingly glorious sights. Daniel and I greatly mourned our lack of foresight in not bringing the digital camera-so many good blogging opportunites missed!
I wasn't quite ready to come back yet. I feel a bit worn... I think I need a vacation to recover from my vacation!
But I'm so happy to be with my dear sweet SammySam again-I missed that boy! And the whole family, Ben and Rowan and my mom and Josh and Jess... Everyone came by for dinner last night-a wonderful impromptu feast to welcome us home.
OK, the kids little discussion of which couch cushion house is whose is starting to escalate into a fullblown disagreement, so I think I will resume my mommyhat now...