I arrived at about 7:35 am.
There sat the USS aircraft carrier across the bay.
Sitting quietly.
I don't have any idea when a navel ship pulls out.
Ninintz start your engines.
I arrived at Harbor View Park and watched Hat Island across the way concealed in fog slowly reveal itself as the fog drifted south.
8:00 am the Coast Guard arrived buzzing around the ship, the ship just sitting there.
Little bitty coast guard boat -- BIG mother ship.
Rain.
Trains every 20 minutes or so.
Hundreds of birds.
Dozens of small boats.
Morning walkers, fellow gawkers with cameras and binoculars.
Four young women taking photos.
A few families gazing.
One young man in a wheel chair -- waiting.
Harbor View Park the only park in Washington without a bathroom.
9:30 left for a potty run and lost my good parking spot.
Nimintz doesn't move.
Another train rolls by.
Cars continue to come and leave.
Several dogs, lots of old duffers with binoculars strung around their necks, but eventually a lot of them leave also.
No one is here, but me, that started at 7:30.
Book readers, newspaper readers, breakfast eaters all come and gone.
The Coast Guard hasn't left though it does move around a little.
Sun higher in the sky, clouds about gone, no more sprinkling rain.
All ropes and wires are still firmly attached to land.
The wires don't seem as steep -- is the tide going out? When does it come back? Will a ship sail at low tide?
Some sort of floating barricades surround the ship but I'm not wise enough to know what they are.
More old duffers arriving.
I keep thinking of Easter dinner and all I should be home doing, but I'm afraid if I leave now the ship will go, but nothing is happening.
The ship sits like a giant grey goose.
I read in the Everett Herald that the USS Nimintz was going to leave the Port of Everett for a 6 to 10 month deployment on Friday March 29. Anyone that knows me knows I've wanted to see an aircraft carrier sail out of Possession Sound. It was supposed to be the USS Abraham Lincoln, but hey, an aircraft carrier is an aircraft carrier.
I cleaned my car windows, ate my McDonalds, drank my coffee and still it sits there.
I promised myself I would stay.
I promised myself.
How long does it take to get 3000 souls on board?
I keep listening for band music, a bull horn, a siren blare.
I keep watching for a blast of smoke. On a nuclear powered ship?
Anything.
It's not patriotism or politics that keeps me planted here, believe it or not its the artistry. The beauty of the giant ship against the narrow natural channel. And who can understand the yearnings of the heart. All I can tell you is it is something I have wanted to see and when the USS Abraham Lincoln moved from this port to the east coast I thought I had lost my chance forever.
Viva la second chances.
Pleasure craft, fishing boats, barges all moving around the sound.
The tide is definitely going out.
Another old duffer leaves another one arrives.
This one sans the bincos and cameras, he has a wee dog instead.
Big boats, little boast, ginormous boats.
1 hour, 2 hours, 3 hours, 4 hours, another potty break, a nap.
I got my good parking space back.
There is a gaggle of little navy boast appearing 1 - 2 - 3 - 4.
What's up doc?
Here comes a 5th.
The vehicle next to me has sat there over an hour with it's engine running.
When I was waffling about coming, Ian reminded me that I wouldn't regret it.
He was right.
All the little boasts disappeared.
A barge and a tug wafted by.
Another car that had been sitting here a long, long time finally gave up and left -- maybe it's a potty run for them also.
Something big coming in -- that's a surprise I wasn't expecting.
I read later it was a military sealift command supply ship.
Big Big BIG tug heading out.
Big Big BIG tug heading in.
12:30 the parking lot is loaded, the anticipation builds, the Nimintz is supposed to leave at 4 is the word on the street.
One binoc lady has hardly moved for over an hour. I think she is bird watching not ship watching. Her binocs are trained on trees not the sea.
1:00 there is something different. A man arrived to take his parrot for a walk. I've never seen that before. A green parrot, or parrot family anyway. All tucked sweetly in the crook of his arm peering out at the world. They have done this before. I don't really know if it's a parrot or macaw or something else, but it is lime parrot green from tip to tail, about 12 inches tall. You tell me.
Sometimes it is a slow slow world.
A fisherman and a little girl went down the hill to the water.
A woman brought out her chair, book and sketch pad and looks completely settled into the middle of the open field.
The big ship that came in is finally parked.
That took a long time.
A few more speedy little Coast Guard zodiacs are buzzing about.
Two young guys with their yoyo's busy practicing stuff.
The trains have slowed down, there is more train traffic in the morning than there is in the afternoon. Whoops here comes another one.
Way down below are the beach people and dogs.
They have ebbed and flowed also.
A little boy about two picking flowers out of the grass and taking a sniff and then tossing them away before going for another.
Foreign language family, if I was guessing I would say Russian.
Most cars last about an hour or so whether kids, dogs, cameras, yoyos, books or birds.
Beautiful mild day contentment is in the air.
2:00 ate some pistachios and orange slice candy.
Fisherman and little girl traipsing back up the hill.
No whales or seals spotted.
A goth showed up with a couple of friends and does Tia Chi.
I guess he is goth -- he is pierced, tattooed, chains hanging, dressed in black with a skull on his t-shirt. Is that goth or punk?
A kite just walked into the park. I'm assuming powered by a person, but I couldn't see from my vantage point.
Frisbee players, a male and a female, haven't seen that for a while.
Man walking dog with leash around his shoulder and neck holding the hands of two toddlers, haven't seen that before.
Maybe I don't get out and gawk enough.
Morning walkers afternoon joggers.
3:00 little pleasure craft boats are congregating.
So I dozed off for a bit: parrot man still here, another Frisbee couple, many more adults and kids.
Pleasure craft thinning out.
All the barricades, halyards and Coast Guard still in place.
Will it weight anchor at 4?
Only an hour to tell.
A third Frisbee couple, I just thought Frisbee was a has been. Oh, this is a Frisbee lesson. Love is in the air. All glowing and instructive.
Tide is rolling back in.
A little golf swing practice.
I have to tell you there were some ugly beloved dogs in the park today.
A lot of old men came to see, not many old ladies.
They came, looked and left all day.
I saw one old man come, look, leave and come back.
I think there were a lot of old Navy guys here today.
4:00 I knew I was patient, but I had no idea how patient until today. If you stay 4 hours you might as well stay 6, if you stay 6 you might as well stay 9, if you stay 9 you might as well stay until the end.
But I didn't.
5:09 I gave up and left.
When I got home I read in the paper that the Nimintz had delayed departure.
They will leave in the morning while I am at work.
I was surprised at how little I was disappointed.
I was surprised at how long I lasted.
I gave it my best shot.
I am content.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Thursday, March 21, 2013
On Being Fat
I am fat. By medical standards I am fat, I have been fat, and I will be fat. What can I say; country born, country bred, country fed. The luck of the gene pool, the great cooks in our family, the hearty meals, the celebrations, the crisis'. I think growing up we had potatoes for dessert, well we had plenty of desserts also.
All of my life I felt fat, or bigger. I was bigger than everyone as far back as grade school. Bigger, badder, fatter. I always lost in the battle to lose weight. I have lost enough weight to make several mes. I've gained enough weight to make more mes -- ugh -- there is an ugly thought, more mes walking the earth like some kind of skewed zombie.
My silliest diet was to eat everything Christian ate when he was twelve or so. He ate sparingly or not at all. He ate about every fourth meal, yeah, that didn't last long. Roger started running around twelve and hasn't stopped, partly, I think, because he knows what his mom and grandmother looked like.
Stress, happiness, fear, joy, anxiety, excitement, pleasure, celebrations all can make you gain it. Grief can make you lose it.
The anguish and embarrassment of being fat in our society cannot be over stated. Women struggle with the weight problem almost continuously from puberty north. I suppose men also. The anguish, the embarrassment, the humiliation of being fat cannot be over stated. All the doctrine and dogma that has been preached and was wrong. I'm thinking of the lady who wrote the book about how she gained ten pounds for every diet she went on. That would be our mother. She posed the theory that if there was more body acceptance all along the way that if she could have just accepted herself 150 pounds ago that she never would have kept going.
Being fat is a million, billion dollar industry. Getting us thin; books, Cd's, Curves, Weight Watchers, pills, spas, gyms, fat farms, regimes, meals, programs. Getting us fat is also a million, billion dollar industry. Both are good for the gross national product, but not so good for my Psyche.
What bothers me is the notion of being fat is a sin. The huge national obsession. Being fat hasn't always been out of societies favor. I am surrounded by people obsessed with weight loss. If I thought being thinner would make us happier, kinder or more noble then I would weigh in, so to speak. But here is what I really want to say, yes you will gain some health benefits from thinning, but you will never, never, never change who you are with shedding an ounce.
Acceptance is the key for me; I accept the who and how I am, I'll ask God the why -- when the time comes -- not too soon I hope. I vowed never to diet again, it might have been a sacred vow.
And another thing; I've been handing out a lot of apologies lately. I am totally doing something wrong, so if I owe you an apology here it is.
And another thing; you have to think about finding the perfect coffee cup, it must be the right weight, shape, capacity, feel, heft. Sort of like buying a car, you gotta kick the tires so to speak.
And another thing; all my presents for Connor are abject failures, everything from toy pots and pans to Thomas the Train tents, CRAWL through tents, baby dolls, sand tables, Bigfoot monsters, giant cardboard blocks -- yep, all a bust.
Somebody help. I am fat, talk too much, need a new coffee cup and a failure as a gift-purchasing granny.
However I did watch a wonderful film; Declaration of War, French, it brought tears to my eyes practically from the beginning, mostly because of the touches of family. What would we do without family.
All of my life I felt fat, or bigger. I was bigger than everyone as far back as grade school. Bigger, badder, fatter. I always lost in the battle to lose weight. I have lost enough weight to make several mes. I've gained enough weight to make more mes -- ugh -- there is an ugly thought, more mes walking the earth like some kind of skewed zombie.
My silliest diet was to eat everything Christian ate when he was twelve or so. He ate sparingly or not at all. He ate about every fourth meal, yeah, that didn't last long. Roger started running around twelve and hasn't stopped, partly, I think, because he knows what his mom and grandmother looked like.
Stress, happiness, fear, joy, anxiety, excitement, pleasure, celebrations all can make you gain it. Grief can make you lose it.
The anguish and embarrassment of being fat in our society cannot be over stated. Women struggle with the weight problem almost continuously from puberty north. I suppose men also. The anguish, the embarrassment, the humiliation of being fat cannot be over stated. All the doctrine and dogma that has been preached and was wrong. I'm thinking of the lady who wrote the book about how she gained ten pounds for every diet she went on. That would be our mother. She posed the theory that if there was more body acceptance all along the way that if she could have just accepted herself 150 pounds ago that she never would have kept going.
Being fat is a million, billion dollar industry. Getting us thin; books, Cd's, Curves, Weight Watchers, pills, spas, gyms, fat farms, regimes, meals, programs. Getting us fat is also a million, billion dollar industry. Both are good for the gross national product, but not so good for my Psyche.
What bothers me is the notion of being fat is a sin. The huge national obsession. Being fat hasn't always been out of societies favor. I am surrounded by people obsessed with weight loss. If I thought being thinner would make us happier, kinder or more noble then I would weigh in, so to speak. But here is what I really want to say, yes you will gain some health benefits from thinning, but you will never, never, never change who you are with shedding an ounce.
Acceptance is the key for me; I accept the who and how I am, I'll ask God the why -- when the time comes -- not too soon I hope. I vowed never to diet again, it might have been a sacred vow.
And another thing; I've been handing out a lot of apologies lately. I am totally doing something wrong, so if I owe you an apology here it is.
And another thing; you have to think about finding the perfect coffee cup, it must be the right weight, shape, capacity, feel, heft. Sort of like buying a car, you gotta kick the tires so to speak.
And another thing; all my presents for Connor are abject failures, everything from toy pots and pans to Thomas the Train tents, CRAWL through tents, baby dolls, sand tables, Bigfoot monsters, giant cardboard blocks -- yep, all a bust.
Somebody help. I am fat, talk too much, need a new coffee cup and a failure as a gift-purchasing granny.
However I did watch a wonderful film; Declaration of War, French, it brought tears to my eyes practically from the beginning, mostly because of the touches of family. What would we do without family.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Jane and Others
Last night I had a dream about Jane -- a hard working Jane cooking food for a large family gathering, probably influenced by Janice's recent hospital stay and the care Jane has given her in the past. Twice in the past.
But my thoughts didn't end there, they drifted to Cathy's sweet sixteen and the frog themed event we pulled together, kind of at the last minute if I recall correctly. I don't remember the cake, but what I do remember is finding the frog stickers and making invitations.
I remember making Mom and Dad's Fortieth Wedding Anniversary invitations with rub off letters. Not easy. Party invitations are much much much easier now with computer help.
Remember Mother's "Pack up the babies, and grab the old ladies" party?
Myriad panda cakes -- Julia.
Our USA's 200th birthday party with a sandpile "cake" with 200 candles. You should have seen the clerk's face when I bought every candle in the store from tapers to birthday. Yep, she thought I was crazy and probably getting ready to burn down the courthouse or something.
Roger had a failed swim party once. I had made plans at the college pool and gathered up nine kids. That was when you could pile nine kids in one car without breaking the law, but somebody forgot to tell the pool maintenance folks and the pool was being treated with chemicals. So, instead of a quick change of clothes it was a quick change of plans and I took the kiddo's to a local park where they ate hardy, acted silly, tumbled, laughed, raced, punched and probably enjoyed themselves more.
Josephine's house warming.
Ian's block party.
Christian's GI Joe party.
Jerry and Jane's 25th.
Art's surprise 50th with his twin brother and a bunch of us traveling tandem, sneaking into town. Janice helping Art wash the car because she didn't want him to open the trunk and find helium filled birthday balloons hidden there.
Janice's 60th, Janice's 70th.
Jean's 70th, I wasn't there but I the painted the t-shirt.
Jean's German chocolate cakes.
Amber's Lemon Sunshine cakes.
Halloween parties, Christmas parties.
Harvest parties, the squash dinner.
Jan's Christmas in July with cowboy hat, yep, dreamed of that hat last night also.
Christmas Eve dinners at that Chinese restaurant.
That made me think of Maxine playing hours of basketball.
Kids riding their bikes down the hill to the barn. One or two spills.
Watching all nine hours of the Godfather trilogy in one sitting.
Marc kicking the electric fence. Filling his pockets with candy eggs.
Andrew bringing me the pink jelly bean.
A doll party once, where the naked dolls were sent with the invitations for the girls to bring back dressed, then mom and I delivered them to Children's Hospital.
Several cookie decorating parties.
Dad making mom a wire Christmas tree so she could hang hundreds of cookies on it.
Pillsbury Doughboy cake -- Marc's.
Corvette cake -- Jeff's.
And who could guess how many Cinderella cakes mom made over the years.
Ian's after dance recital party, like a wrap party, again pulled together quickly at Jerry and Jane's.
Linda's pig party.
James garage sale fund raiser. Dad determined to tie that couch on top of the dude's car and the dude barely knowing what was going on. Yep, made $2.00 on that. As Jerry said, Dad probably used $2.00 worth of rope.
Jerry and Jane's Memorial Day events. How much smoking has Marc done? Hot tubbing.
Our Aunt Josephine was always a party.
Ye olde' Christmas' at the Gilbert's. The splendor of their trees could only be matched by the tree in the Nutcracker.
Rabbit skinning party -- I missed that one.
Roger's strawberry birthday -- Jean.
Stephanie's Thanksgiving with my friends and Ian's friends and Stephanie cooking.
My wedding shower -- Jane -- she cried.
Wedding cakes -- two or three.
Julia's connection for helium for balloons before you could buy them everywhere.
Mother's pig trough.
Giant donuts tied to the barn rafters for two people to eat with no hands. Naughty!
Bonfires weather permitting.
Clean up trash fires weather permitting.
"Dad, let's have a cup of coffee first and talk about it," -- Jan.
Fence painting parties, mailbox painting parties.
House cleaning, sewing, paining, decorating parties.
I want one of those.
Funeral parties, celebrating a life.
Nora being born party -- hotter than hell as I recall.
Circus tent raising party -- hotter than hell as I recall.
Christian screaming bloody murder at his 3rd B-Day in Chicago.
Easter parties, egg hunts.
4th of July parties, explosions.
Nail soup.
French fry party; a wood fire, two gallons of oil, a cast iron cauldron, and a garden of potatoes -- hotter than hell as I recall.
Bacon party, biscuit party, pie party. One time, I can't remember why, I made 7 or 8 desserts with lemon. Now why would I do that?
Jean's you-had-better-bake-or-there-will-be-a-riot Christmas goodies. Non negotiable.
One time mother made chili to supply props for one of Julia's plays. Only mother!
Son's dinner on the 17th; Corned beef and cabbage with Sopapilla dessert -- Jean. How's that for a party combination?
Dinners, events, get togethers, parties.
We did what we could with what we had.
Fun, food, fellowship.
Friendship.
It's nice being friends with your family.
Hum, we have never had a book reading or tree climbing party...
But my thoughts didn't end there, they drifted to Cathy's sweet sixteen and the frog themed event we pulled together, kind of at the last minute if I recall correctly. I don't remember the cake, but what I do remember is finding the frog stickers and making invitations.
I remember making Mom and Dad's Fortieth Wedding Anniversary invitations with rub off letters. Not easy. Party invitations are much much much easier now with computer help.
Remember Mother's "Pack up the babies, and grab the old ladies" party?
Myriad panda cakes -- Julia.
Our USA's 200th birthday party with a sandpile "cake" with 200 candles. You should have seen the clerk's face when I bought every candle in the store from tapers to birthday. Yep, she thought I was crazy and probably getting ready to burn down the courthouse or something.
Roger had a failed swim party once. I had made plans at the college pool and gathered up nine kids. That was when you could pile nine kids in one car without breaking the law, but somebody forgot to tell the pool maintenance folks and the pool was being treated with chemicals. So, instead of a quick change of clothes it was a quick change of plans and I took the kiddo's to a local park where they ate hardy, acted silly, tumbled, laughed, raced, punched and probably enjoyed themselves more.
Josephine's house warming.
Ian's block party.
Christian's GI Joe party.
Jerry and Jane's 25th.
Art's surprise 50th with his twin brother and a bunch of us traveling tandem, sneaking into town. Janice helping Art wash the car because she didn't want him to open the trunk and find helium filled birthday balloons hidden there.
Janice's 60th, Janice's 70th.
Jean's 70th, I wasn't there but I the painted the t-shirt.
Jean's German chocolate cakes.
Amber's Lemon Sunshine cakes.
Halloween parties, Christmas parties.
Harvest parties, the squash dinner.
Jan's Christmas in July with cowboy hat, yep, dreamed of that hat last night also.
Christmas Eve dinners at that Chinese restaurant.
That made me think of Maxine playing hours of basketball.
Kids riding their bikes down the hill to the barn. One or two spills.
Watching all nine hours of the Godfather trilogy in one sitting.
Marc kicking the electric fence. Filling his pockets with candy eggs.
Andrew bringing me the pink jelly bean.
A doll party once, where the naked dolls were sent with the invitations for the girls to bring back dressed, then mom and I delivered them to Children's Hospital.
Several cookie decorating parties.
Dad making mom a wire Christmas tree so she could hang hundreds of cookies on it.
Pillsbury Doughboy cake -- Marc's.
Corvette cake -- Jeff's.
And who could guess how many Cinderella cakes mom made over the years.
Ian's after dance recital party, like a wrap party, again pulled together quickly at Jerry and Jane's.
Linda's pig party.
James garage sale fund raiser. Dad determined to tie that couch on top of the dude's car and the dude barely knowing what was going on. Yep, made $2.00 on that. As Jerry said, Dad probably used $2.00 worth of rope.
Jerry and Jane's Memorial Day events. How much smoking has Marc done? Hot tubbing.
Our Aunt Josephine was always a party.
Ye olde' Christmas' at the Gilbert's. The splendor of their trees could only be matched by the tree in the Nutcracker.
Rabbit skinning party -- I missed that one.
Roger's strawberry birthday -- Jean.
Stephanie's Thanksgiving with my friends and Ian's friends and Stephanie cooking.
My wedding shower -- Jane -- she cried.
Wedding cakes -- two or three.
Julia's connection for helium for balloons before you could buy them everywhere.
Mother's pig trough.
Giant donuts tied to the barn rafters for two people to eat with no hands. Naughty!
Bonfires weather permitting.
Clean up trash fires weather permitting.
"Dad, let's have a cup of coffee first and talk about it," -- Jan.
Fence painting parties, mailbox painting parties.
House cleaning, sewing, paining, decorating parties.
I want one of those.
Funeral parties, celebrating a life.
Nora being born party -- hotter than hell as I recall.
Circus tent raising party -- hotter than hell as I recall.
Christian screaming bloody murder at his 3rd B-Day in Chicago.
Easter parties, egg hunts.
4th of July parties, explosions.
Nail soup.
French fry party; a wood fire, two gallons of oil, a cast iron cauldron, and a garden of potatoes -- hotter than hell as I recall.
Bacon party, biscuit party, pie party. One time, I can't remember why, I made 7 or 8 desserts with lemon. Now why would I do that?
Jean's you-had-better-bake-or-there-will-be-a-riot Christmas goodies. Non negotiable.
One time mother made chili to supply props for one of Julia's plays. Only mother!
Son's dinner on the 17th; Corned beef and cabbage with Sopapilla dessert -- Jean. How's that for a party combination?
Dinners, events, get togethers, parties.
We did what we could with what we had.
Fun, food, fellowship.
Friendship.
It's nice being friends with your family.
Hum, we have never had a book reading or tree climbing party...
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Surrounded by Snow Covered Mountains
I am poor. By America's standards I hover at the poverty line. Here I am surrounded by snow capped mountains basking in eight hours of sunshine, enjoying the glimpse of massive Mt Rainier as it pops out to remind me of the awesomeness of nature. From my window looking out towards Possession Sound I see water, lots of green trees, birds darting hither and yon with a purpose.
I see the school working hard, children at play, balls darting with a purpose. Old folks holding hands walking the track field with a purpose.
That's west -- east of me I have a reliable car, newish tires, a road south to a securish job. I have food clothes and shelter -- in abundance. I have my family reunion t-shirts, my smokes, my art, two rocking chairs.
I have colleagues, family, and friends in abundance. I have perfume, leek soup, books, movies, sons, Kathy in Texas, trip to Janice, calls to Jeff. I have digressions: recently it's been libertine and manifesto. I could have a dog if I wanted one, and you have all heard me wax poetically on the most underrated luxury in the world -- a hot shower.
So I did my morning toilet with the steaming shower, sipped my fragrant coffee, took enough pills for both Jeff and Janice, slipped onto my soft nest, ate my broccoli omelet. I had paper to write on and a brain with a thought or two still ambling around.
My big issues of the day: what to buy at the grocery store, where to lunch with Ian, how adorable will Connor be at our playdate, what will my digressions explore, will Janice go home from the hospital (per Jean's email, she is home) and how is Jeff's bum.
I would think poverty would entail more struggle for the basics. And NOT "Oh, darn, they don't have any ripe avocados."
I would think poverty would include the inability to read or write.
I would think poverty would include fewer possessions, more hunger, more walking, more dirt floors, Connor working instead of playing.
I would think poverty would NOT include which lotion to choose for scaly elbows. At my fingertips I have a choice of four.
Moroccan Rose from Bo from The Body Shop.
Old fashioned petroleum jelly.
Johnson's Baby Lotion influenced by Jane.
Dead Sea Treasures hand cream, a vendor gift from
The Naot Shoe company which originated in Israel.
So Jerry recovered from his surgery and looks great.
Jeff had his abscess taken care of and is recovering. I asked him why he didn't let Julia and Tal take him to the hospital and he said it was because it was 3AM. Good brother.
Janice is still in the throes, but under good care.
Jean says she's good, well goodish.
Jeff says Tal is relishing his retirement.
Julia I have a blank on, but I'm good at filling in the blanks.
Walking anyone?
Josephine is still ensconced in McLoud.
Jan is puffing along nicely. I made a fantastic leek and onion soup which I will never be able to duplicate because I used a bit of this and a dab of that, threw in a few left overs, a bit of squash, some polish sausage. Oh my, it is good and my lunches for next week are done.
I didn't go to Wednesday morning breakfast with Mary and Claire,
no reason.
My morning carrot juice contains anchovy and sardine oil.
Who knew?
I'm planning a son's dinner for the 10th or 17th.
Stephanie has a birthday Friday as does Andrew and Taylor.
I watched the Portuguese film Mysteries of Lisbon, both discs, I don't recommend it.
Jerry mentioned a couple of movies in an email that I'm ignorant of, but not for long, Strangers and Halfaunine. Jerry, I read about a movie: Wildest Dream about the mountain climber that found Mallory's body on Mt Everest. After our discussion about Mallory and book club reading the book I wonder if you have seen it.
It seems everyone but me has seen Life of Pi and Lincoln. Ah, well, you all know I am poor.
Jeff says he is only bringing a suitcase, chairs, a goodie box, hot dog skewers and Vienna Sausage to Greenleaf family reunion next year.
I see the school working hard, children at play, balls darting with a purpose. Old folks holding hands walking the track field with a purpose.
That's west -- east of me I have a reliable car, newish tires, a road south to a securish job. I have food clothes and shelter -- in abundance. I have my family reunion t-shirts, my smokes, my art, two rocking chairs.
I have colleagues, family, and friends in abundance. I have perfume, leek soup, books, movies, sons, Kathy in Texas, trip to Janice, calls to Jeff. I have digressions: recently it's been libertine and manifesto. I could have a dog if I wanted one, and you have all heard me wax poetically on the most underrated luxury in the world -- a hot shower.
So I did my morning toilet with the steaming shower, sipped my fragrant coffee, took enough pills for both Jeff and Janice, slipped onto my soft nest, ate my broccoli omelet. I had paper to write on and a brain with a thought or two still ambling around.
My big issues of the day: what to buy at the grocery store, where to lunch with Ian, how adorable will Connor be at our playdate, what will my digressions explore, will Janice go home from the hospital (per Jean's email, she is home) and how is Jeff's bum.
I would think poverty would entail more struggle for the basics. And NOT "Oh, darn, they don't have any ripe avocados."
I would think poverty would include the inability to read or write.
I would think poverty would include fewer possessions, more hunger, more walking, more dirt floors, Connor working instead of playing.
I would think poverty would NOT include which lotion to choose for scaly elbows. At my fingertips I have a choice of four.
Moroccan Rose from Bo from The Body Shop.
Old fashioned petroleum jelly.
Johnson's Baby Lotion influenced by Jane.
Dead Sea Treasures hand cream, a vendor gift from
The Naot Shoe company which originated in Israel.
So Jerry recovered from his surgery and looks great.
Jeff had his abscess taken care of and is recovering. I asked him why he didn't let Julia and Tal take him to the hospital and he said it was because it was 3AM. Good brother.
Janice is still in the throes, but under good care.
Jean says she's good, well goodish.
Jeff says Tal is relishing his retirement.
Julia I have a blank on, but I'm good at filling in the blanks.
Walking anyone?
Josephine is still ensconced in McLoud.
Jan is puffing along nicely. I made a fantastic leek and onion soup which I will never be able to duplicate because I used a bit of this and a dab of that, threw in a few left overs, a bit of squash, some polish sausage. Oh my, it is good and my lunches for next week are done.
I didn't go to Wednesday morning breakfast with Mary and Claire,
no reason.
My morning carrot juice contains anchovy and sardine oil.
Who knew?
I'm planning a son's dinner for the 10th or 17th.
Stephanie has a birthday Friday as does Andrew and Taylor.
I watched the Portuguese film Mysteries of Lisbon, both discs, I don't recommend it.
Jerry mentioned a couple of movies in an email that I'm ignorant of, but not for long, Strangers and Halfaunine. Jerry, I read about a movie: Wildest Dream about the mountain climber that found Mallory's body on Mt Everest. After our discussion about Mallory and book club reading the book I wonder if you have seen it.
It seems everyone but me has seen Life of Pi and Lincoln. Ah, well, you all know I am poor.
Jeff says he is only bringing a suitcase, chairs, a goodie box, hot dog skewers and Vienna Sausage to Greenleaf family reunion next year.
Friday, March 1, 2013
But I Digress
I was delighted to read the phrase from a Ray McLain email "But I digress from the movie" because it conjured up images of those little accidentally miracles. The twist and turns of life not missed. I wasn't a few seconds too early or too late, but spot on. Digressions; the flow of roads, or the flow of conversion. or thoughts flowing out like the veins in a hand. Ever flowing out.
A digression, a bump in the road, a little miracle occurs, a diversion. You are headed in one direction and wind up in another due to unforeseeable circumstances, and you arrive exactly where you should be. The obstacle that turns out to be a blessing.
My literal bump was becoming pregnant with Ian when I thought I was too old, too busy, too tired, had too many yours mine and ours children. My life was too complicated -- twenty-eight years later he continues to bless me every day.
And speaking of baby blessings, what if Stephanie and Roger had a baby seven years ago or off in the future? I wouldn't have Connor telling me not to kiss him because my lips were hurting him. Darn chapped lips.
But I digress, maybe those are begats not digressions.
Did you ever head to a lake or a restaurant and arrive at the un-planned for?
I should have been working, but I kept peeking to try to see what this woman was reading, she always seemed to have interesting titles. That little continued digression arrived me at a book club that is thirteen years strong.
I have learned to trust and love a digression, even bad ones become good stories, nostalgic moments, precious memories.
Who hasn't been stopped in their tracts by the antics of a child? The hug of a loved one? The unexpected appearance of an old friend while going to Walmart to buy, I don't know, soap or car oil.
You pull over to pee at a roadside rest stop and wind up talking to the Canadians for four hours, sharing a picnic, a life.
I wrote a good job requirement list once of; no phones, no computers, no sales and no uniforms, hey we are all naive sometimes, and wound up at Eddie Bauer with phones, computers, sales AND a whole lot of what I needed to live life, to transition to Seattle, to pay rent, buy Ian some Abercrombie jeans and muddle around and discover the Pacific Northwest which I love beyond reason.
And one time Julia and I spent five days digressing, pre Google, over King Arthur, Arthurian Legends, Merlin, magic, roadside England, flipping from books to dictionary, to encyclopedia to atlases and back.
But even now, with Google, I digress, reading a word, leads to a phrase, leads to an article, a book, a movie, a Google or Wikipedia search, Ask.com, and back to dictionaries and atlases. Yea digression!
What's chervil? Who has the largest population New York City or LA? I digress from luxury hotels on remote New Zealand islands to African Mountain tops, to wisps of Taiga history. Curiosity feeds digression. Digression every flowing somewhere...
Now how did Kathy become my friend? Her mom was in California, my mom was sick and I was a familiar face at the family reunion and had a broom, cumin, pepto-bismol or what ever was needed. And I admired her enormously for the spunk to venture forth in an old car, in the fierce heat, with two kids and twenty dollars to digress from her regular life because her family was so important to her.
The two people that family seems most important to are Kathy and Ian -- but I digress.
May you have ten good digressions today. From chaos to order or vice verse.
A digression, a bump in the road, a little miracle occurs, a diversion. You are headed in one direction and wind up in another due to unforeseeable circumstances, and you arrive exactly where you should be. The obstacle that turns out to be a blessing.
My literal bump was becoming pregnant with Ian when I thought I was too old, too busy, too tired, had too many yours mine and ours children. My life was too complicated -- twenty-eight years later he continues to bless me every day.
And speaking of baby blessings, what if Stephanie and Roger had a baby seven years ago or off in the future? I wouldn't have Connor telling me not to kiss him because my lips were hurting him. Darn chapped lips.
But I digress, maybe those are begats not digressions.
Did you ever head to a lake or a restaurant and arrive at the un-planned for?
I should have been working, but I kept peeking to try to see what this woman was reading, she always seemed to have interesting titles. That little continued digression arrived me at a book club that is thirteen years strong.
I have learned to trust and love a digression, even bad ones become good stories, nostalgic moments, precious memories.
Who hasn't been stopped in their tracts by the antics of a child? The hug of a loved one? The unexpected appearance of an old friend while going to Walmart to buy, I don't know, soap or car oil.
You pull over to pee at a roadside rest stop and wind up talking to the Canadians for four hours, sharing a picnic, a life.
I wrote a good job requirement list once of; no phones, no computers, no sales and no uniforms, hey we are all naive sometimes, and wound up at Eddie Bauer with phones, computers, sales AND a whole lot of what I needed to live life, to transition to Seattle, to pay rent, buy Ian some Abercrombie jeans and muddle around and discover the Pacific Northwest which I love beyond reason.
And one time Julia and I spent five days digressing, pre Google, over King Arthur, Arthurian Legends, Merlin, magic, roadside England, flipping from books to dictionary, to encyclopedia to atlases and back.
But even now, with Google, I digress, reading a word, leads to a phrase, leads to an article, a book, a movie, a Google or Wikipedia search, Ask.com, and back to dictionaries and atlases. Yea digression!
What's chervil? Who has the largest population New York City or LA? I digress from luxury hotels on remote New Zealand islands to African Mountain tops, to wisps of Taiga history. Curiosity feeds digression. Digression every flowing somewhere...
Now how did Kathy become my friend? Her mom was in California, my mom was sick and I was a familiar face at the family reunion and had a broom, cumin, pepto-bismol or what ever was needed. And I admired her enormously for the spunk to venture forth in an old car, in the fierce heat, with two kids and twenty dollars to digress from her regular life because her family was so important to her.
The two people that family seems most important to are Kathy and Ian -- but I digress.
May you have ten good digressions today. From chaos to order or vice verse.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
