Greening

It’s April first. I wake up thinking, first, the writing. I know that writing means jumping up to let the dog out, let the dog in, feed the cat. I know that writing means waking up when it’s cold or dark out, but more to the point, fighting off the sleep in a warm bed. It means believing in myself, believing that regardless of whether I’m “good enough” (whatever arbitrary thing that means), this is something that I love, that makes me more me, and that feeds me in a way all the sugar in the world can’t feed me – that can make me feel better than any red wine. Writing, or maybe I should say whoever I am when I’m writing, is like a best friend that I love to spend time with, no mater what else is happening in my life. I don’t do it for other people, but I do it for myself, and when I am fulfilled in that way, it’s easier to be generous. And of course, it helps that the world is greening, buds of brightness coming out of every tiny branch of our little oak tree, which D. planted from an acorn, the iris swords about to be joined by stalk and flower, the lilacs returning from the dead in a way that works for me as well as remembering Jesus no longer in a cave might work for some to foster hope. 

Because it’s April first, and it’s also Easter, and I have pulled out all of our Easter things from the blue bin up in the attic: enough baskets for the Von Trapp family, 

crafts the kids made when they were little, two puppets my mother made, little cloth rabbits 

             

and little ceramic rabbits, and dozens of plastic eggs. I will dust the surfaces of the house and spread out the little bit of candy I bought this year – what’s left of it after a couple of evening binges, I should say – and I will create a hunt for the mostly-adult kids who will be awake or back home or coming over for brunch. And I’ll make brunch. Welsh cakes, and bacon and eggs, and potatoes and cantaloupe. Lots of coffee, and potentially, mimosas, since I have the ingredients. Later in the day, I’ll go to a hive inspection (having inspected my own two beehives Friday). 

Little Oak Hive March 30, 2018

I’ll start to gather items for a garage sale that S. will have to raise money for tracker school, grateful for the opportunity to lighten the load and lessen the belongings, even though I know it means the living room will be a temporary dumping ground of stuff for a week. And I’ll write. April is National Poetry Month, and again, I think, as good a month as any to (re)start a more serious daily habit of writing. And sending poetry out. Here, for the record, are the goals: write at least 30 minutes daily (60 is better); blog at least once a week (daily is better); send out at least 5 poems at least once a week (daily, too, would be a fun exercise, if I could find venues that I wanted to be published in enough who are currently accepting poems to make it happen). In the light of this cool, quiet morning, with everyone else asleep and the pets behaving, it seems so do-able.  I’m at the magical moment when I’ve just finished my first cup of coffee and I know a second is coming – the absolute prime moment of optimism for me, every day.  So of course it seems do-able. As doable as meditating daily (which I have been doing, briefly, and sometimes in a prone position, but still…) or losing that pesky post-menopausal ten pounds, or scrimping together enough money to pay of credit cards and someday have a house in the country. It all seems doable at the moment. May it be so as well once the caffeine wears off! 

December

With the beginning of December, comes the end of Nanowrimo, National Novel Writing Month.

And this is the year that I was able to complete 50,000 words toward a brand new,  never-thought-of-before novel.

I don't know whether this extremely embryonic and malformed first draft - more a collection of 100+ pages of scenes and dialogue in absolutely no order and with no shape - will ever become anything other than what it is, however it did help me prove to myself that I have a certain degree of writer's discipline, if not writer's concentration on coherence, quite.

I am eternally, it seems, trying to prove things to myself. I should prove to myself that I can break the habit of proving things to myself....

Accomplishment

I would never make the grade in Mr. Darcy's eyes when it comes to being an accomplished woman.

As a reminder, Miss Bingley defines the accomplished gal this way: 

A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.

And then we have: 

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Okay, so I read in general. And today I read a little Spanish (boning up before a bilingual test on the 28th) and some Albert Schweitzer biography. And I also accomplished (here used as a verb rather than adjective) the following: slept late to fight off feeling under the weather, got up and fed the chickens and dog, cleaned the kitchen, accompanied D.  to Walnut Creek to visit his declining father (with a side trip to pick up pizza for everyone after we'd arrived), drove the hour plus back, went to OSH to get jars for the next harvest of honey, went to the gym to work out, took the dog to the pet store to give him a bath, ate a healthy dinner, started a more formal will (with software and book from the library, due back soon and because lord knows the old one is out-dated), replied to a few emails, washed laundry, took out the trash, pulled some weeds, and then generally fretted about how little I did today and how the day felt wasted. This is probably some kind of worked-Saturday-cum-Sunday-night-blues.

Okay, so I didn't do any of the many things that are continuing to press down on me. But heck, now that I think of it, this isn't bad. And I should be kinder to myself. Besides, Darcy's taken anyway.

It's Official

I now hold an Masters in Poetry from Pacific University's MFA program.

This is a post I started in January, when that was fresh news, and that sentence was all I have to say.

More importantly, since then, I quit the job I'd held for 19 years and now work for the local county library system, at the central city branch. A simple shift, but a huge one with significant repercussions.

Like so many other changes over the last two or three years - publishing a chapbook, keeping chickens then bees, getting a cat then an MFA - this career shift has enriched my life and has awoken a part of me that had been dormant for so long, one couldn't even call it hibernation. Bears wake up sooner, is all I'm saying. Rather, think about some seed (like a nelumbonaceae) that lies encased in itself for years while conditions are too poor to allow for survival, let alone growth.

As wikipedia tells me, "True dormancy or innate dormancy is caused by conditions within the seed that prevent germination under normally ideal conditions." And the nelumbonaceae family (also known as sacred lotus) is subject to what's called "physical dormancy" where the seed doesn't germinate because it is requires an external force to break through its impermeable coat. "In natural systems, physical dormancy is broken by several factors including high temperatures, fluctuating temperatures, fire, freezing/thawing, drying or passage through the digestive tracts of animals."

So maybe I just had to go through the belly of the beast and some freezing and fire before I could reach this place. This thought may prove helpful in my efforts to move forward without spending much time kicking myself for not having done so sooner. I didn't, perhaps because I couldn't have. And at any rate, I can't change the past. I can only move bravely into the future with (ever increasing) energy and a positive attitude and focus.

Happy New Year

As a friend said, "Happy New Year!" is something people used to say as just a ritual. This year, they're saying it as a desperate plea.

But I am happy, and I thought it important to start 2017 saying so.

West Sonoma Book Faire

Looking forward to being at the Poets' Table tomorrow!

Well, that happened...

Or rather, that didn't happen. I did not blog daily for even a full month!

But I am back, taking things one day at a time.

I'm participating in the 8-week Whole Life Challenge, as I have mentioned here before, and each week in addition to nutrition and fitness challenges, the challenge of sleeping enough and drinking sufficient water and recording daily reflections there, there are lifestyle challenges.

Next week the lifestyle challenge will involve recording at least three things, daily, for which I am grateful. Good or "awesome" things in my life. I hope this will help me change gears a little, as in the last few days as I've become increasingly ramped up about work stress, I've been focusing more on negative things than is healthy.

The nutritional level of challenge I'm doing requires:
* no dairy
* no sugars
* no alcohol
* no grains (including rice)
* no legumes (including peanuts)
* no oils except olive and sunflower
* no soy
* no artificial preservatives, etc.

So primarily I've been eating just healthy, whole, organic foods.
I've lost a few pounds and (I think) a few inches in the last 3 weeks. 5 weeks to go, and then I hope to continue this healthy pattern, with some modifications so I can live less extremely.

I tell you what, though. Tonight I wish I could have had a glass of wine.

Ah well, the urge will pass.

Today's Post Yesterday

Because yes, gentle reader, I am posting this in actuality only one day after the fact.

Went on a wonderful walk in the evening while S. had Chamber Orchestra rehearsal. Saw a beautiful hawk, egret, horses, cows.

The timing for the hawk - which flew right in front of me, a snake dangling from its talons - could not be better. I am currently listening to the magnificent H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald. It's a fabulous book, and makes me wish all over again that I could be a falconer, even while it makes me grieve my parents (mom, dad and birth mom) and yearn to be a writer half as good as Macdonald is. 

Here are a couple of pictures from the walk:

I will post a video next - but not now, as I must go to bed!

Sunday Study

Spent most of the day working on school work, apart from yard work, an inspection of the Margo hive, and taking S. to youth orchestra rehearsal. Also a dog walk in there, somewhere. The Whole Life Challenge has paid off in the dropping of a few pounds so far. I have many more to go, but am trying to cut myself some slack and remember that these things are not instantaneous.

Stuffed Saturday

....being a retro-post of the various activities in which I participated Saturday the 24th of September.

Work: 6-2
Home, pick up child
Take child to bass lesson
Home from bass lesson
Trip to gym
Make dinner for family
Go to Sebastopol for Word Temple
Home again
Read for homework
Bed!

What a fascinating life I lead. As my former co-worker would tease about any old boring, mundane activity in which he was participating; "Don't be jealous."

Weekend Squeeze: Start!

I am determined to squeeze as much weekend into my weekend as I can, and over the years I've learned that means starting Friday night.

Of course, having to work early on a Saturday limits how late one can stay up Friday night....and working a very long week (too many 9-10 hour days!) means early bed seems the best way to start a weekend after all.

More Runaround

Left work early for errand-running, including picking up S. from the 11th grade camping trip: ropes course, wall-climbing, star-gazing. In the Waldorf high school system, each year focuses on an element: 9th=earth, 10th=water, 11th=air, 12th=fire. The week long "Adventure Learning" trips focus on these elements. There are pedagogical reasons for this which, were I not feeling so tired and defeated as I post this (five days after the fact),  I would take the time to explain.

Cooling Trend

Fortunately, the scorching hot weather has subsided and there's a cool, almost cold, breeze that's started up in its place.

I have never paid so much attention to weather before, but now that I am keeping bees, it matters to me whether it's too hot, too cold, too windy, too dry. I hope for a little rain for a small second Autumn "flow," because it would give the bees a little more boost. But this new practice, like so much else that seems to come with my current age and stage of life, requires patience.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Backward. Oh, and that Other Step Backward Too

Drat! Just as there was some hope of improving our finances for a couple of weeks, an unexpected debt (not even directly ours, more's the bother!) has surfaced for us to address immediately. So all sorts of little necessary things, like a running truck and optimized mill, and fully-paid bills, are again deferred. Patience is a virtue thrust upon us, sometimes.

And yet, I felt surprisingly equanimous about it all. I can't credit wisdom or maturity as much as I can say that I'm conserving my energy for future, more deserving angst, should it arrive.

A walk around the pond with D. helped as well, of course.

And I am confident that any difficulties are temporary. As are any blessings. Perhaps I am becoming more Zen. Could meditating 10 minutes a day and sleeping more than 7 hours a night really help that much?

Here's Moira the cat, exuding calm. If I've already posted this picture on this blog, I've forgotten. So perhaps my two readers have too!

Dear Muse

Dear Muse,
I think you whispered something to me the other night as I was drifting off to sleep, and I half-thought, "I should write this down so I don't forget it" before I fell under a blanket of dreams again. The worlds I've inhabited in dreams! The crazy plots, the cast of characters, the visions and the soundtracks! But whatever those few words were you put in my head, they're far too far downstream for me to find, now. Lost somewhere in an ocean to vast for me to traverse in my narrow little boat.

No time for a Second Wind

I feel I could easily stay up two more hours, but my alarm will go off before 5am and the Whole Life Challenge compels me to sleep more than 7 hours a night; thus the sporadic blogging before hitting the hay...!

Sun-day

We're experiencing a heat wave - even hotter than the usual Indian Summer this year. I think the wax in the hives might even be softening. But what a lovely smell!

The heat won't last forever. In the meantime, it's all about watering (even though we're in a drought) and staying as cool as possible.

The weekend was too short, and next weekend may feel even shorter, judging by my schedule. But S. made it safely back from an overnight camping trip for a friend's 16th birthday just in time for orchestra rehearsal, and will embark on another adventure come Monday.  She just has to finish packing!

Last Retro Before We're in Present Tense

It's taken me a few minutes, in between chatting with D. and making "paleo" muffins (eggs, almond flour, coconut oil, banana, vanilla, cinnamon), to catch up in my "daily" blog.

Today was the first day of the 8-week nutrition/lifestyle challenge I'm doing. I'm so excited about being healthier and better grounded and rested. The first week there's a focus on daily meditation. It's interesting that I do better with a challenge or a dare - or someone else's expectations - in order to do something that is so helpful to me. But I know this about myself, and now try to use it to my advantage.

After a trip to the chiropractor this morning with S., I went to a 3-hour beekeeper/hive dive get together. We inspected five hives up on the mountain. It was a beautiful day and very educational. I came back and checked my own hives. I still have to make notes about what I saw, but in general, the Margo hive from April is thriving and full of nectar, capped honey and still more brood, so the population will expand again before winter - while the Anna hive has no capped honey, only some nectar, spotty cells of bee bread in the bottom super, and a bunch of brood in the top box. I spotted the queen again. Actually, honestly, it looked like a different queen, so perhaps they re-queened and I missed it?  That might explain the small size of the hive. I am not sure they'll make it until January ("over-winter" is the phrase a beekeeper would use), but I am determined to avoid intervention, hard as that might be.

On another note entirely, I am looking forward to tomorrow's Petaluma Poetry Walk. A weekend of bees and poetry. Hooray!

Happy Birthday, Beloved

Today was D's birthday. We've been together for 32 of his birthdays thus far, and it's difficult to say that one is more or less exciting than another, because (allegedly) he just doesn't care about celebrating them. However, I made sure that he found flowers in his office in the morning - on the floor, which startled him, although he understood, correctly, that it was likely my neurotic concern about earthquakes that prevented me from balancing a vase with water on the desk near his computers. And we ended the evening with a sushi dinner. He worked hard on a job with a tight deadline all day, so not much celebrating in between. Here's a pic from May of the man himself giving meal worms to the hens. The smallest chicken is his, whom he had sarcastically named "Darth Maul" and whom we call "Molly"

Filling up the Day

On the one hand, I'm not spending my day discovering the cure for cancer or saving souls. Directly. Although there may be something to be said for avoiding being the idle hands that are the devil's workshop (Proverbs 16:27, in case you wondered), because I'm sure not sitting on the couch watching soap operas and eating bonbons. Although here is an image of bonbons for you. Yum.

After working an extra-long (10+ hr) day, I dashed up to Sebastopol to pick up S. from an appointment. Then we stopped for dinner, then home. I am sure I had intended to write and blog. Instead, I read more of The Death of Mary Russell and fell asleep. It really doesn't require a glass of wine for me to be out like a light after 9:30pm or so most nights. I am so very diurnal.

Priorities

I had been telling myself that these daily small blog posts are musical scales or pliés at the bar.

Then Rebecca Solnit writes this great piece on Lithub, in which she says (among 9 other other helpful tips):

1) Write. There is no substitute. Write what you most passionately want to write, not blogs, posts, tweets or all the disposable bubblewrap in which modern life is cushioned. But start small: write a good sentence, then a good paragraph, and don’t be dreaming about writing the great American novel or what you’ll wear at the awards ceremony because that’s not what writing’s about or how you get there from here. The road is made entirely out of words. Write a lot. Maybe at the outset you’ll be like a toddler—the terrible twos are partly about being frustrated because you’re smarter than your motor skills or your mouth, you want to color the picture, ask for the toy, and you’re bumbling, incoherent and no one gets it, but it’s not only time that gets the kid onward to more sophistication and skill, it’s effort and practice. Write bad stuff because the road to good writing is made out of words and not all of them are well-arranged words.

Ah well. Yes, but. Because learning to hear and express my own voice, and to document the slivers of my daily life, are important to me as part of the larger picture. It helps me with the other, more important, less ephemeral work.

This may be the "bad stuff" I'm writing on the road to something better - the toddler talk. But if my blog is my sandbox, who cares? The two or three folks who might read it are obviously already kind, tolerant and gracious folks, or they would be reading something more substantial anyway. So thank you, gracious reader(s), for your indulgence in my warm-up exercises.

Rewiring

I have now blogged more this year than I did in 2014 and 2015 combined, and when I find myself sinking into the why-bother/I-can't pit, I simply tell myself that's not true. I can, and I will, and the reason I bother is that this is really what I want to be doing. I enjoy writing, and I enjoy having written. I want it to practice a habit that deepens and continues, and I know that without writing daily, I cannot expect to grow as a writer.

This is just one way of reminding myself of that.

On a less philosophical note, the IT band/quad tear and psoas muscle strain I did to myself - trying, of all things, to competitively show D. that I, too could - or should be able to - kick myself in the butt, literally, as he is capable of doing! ...that set of stupidly hubristic self-inflicted injuries is well on the mend, just in time for the Whole Life Challenge that starts Saturday.

Double Meetings

Another day in the life. D. was away for the afternoon and evening. N. is camping somewhere. For me it went something like this: work for 8+ hours, stop at home for the bass, pick up S. from school, then take her to rehearsal. Another parent meeting, which I left to go back to the HS for yet another parent meeting - this time about an upcoming overnight field trip for the 11th grade.
The HS meeting ended just in time for me to go back to pick up S. twenty minutes away as rehearsal ended. Home to take care of all the animals, then to bed. Thus the late retroactive post.

My poetry takes a back seat sometimes during days like this, but I did manage to read part of Space, in Chains yesterday and have been making my way, grudgingly, through a Frank Bidart collection.

The Beginning of the Season

It's Youth Orchestra season again, which means the Sunday night (Youth Orchestra) and Monday night (Young People's Chamber Orchestra) rehearsals have begun for S. Here's a bass clef note in her honor:

After coffee with a friend and fellow writer in the morning, and driving S and a friend around town mid-day, in the late afternoon, we drove the 40 minutes to a parents' meeting/potluck/rehearsal. My day ended late, and although I'd had a very, very long night's sleep last night (12 hours or so), which did my back and leg much good, I am starting my week sleep deprived again.

Field Trip

Today, D. and I had a romantic outing. We went to the Contemporary Jewish Museum to see Stanley Kubrick:The Exhibition, a display of camera lenses, props, costumes,  still pictures, scripts, notes, letters, and running clups for each of Kubrick's films, including those, like Napoleon, that he never made.

2001 was a strong influence for D., and no doubt helped spark his interest in science fiction and special effects. I just remember it being one of the many movies that impressed my father and dismayed or disturbed my mother, which meant Dad had me watch it when I was too young for it, either to "educate" me or bother Mom. Or both.

And while I admire Kubrick's eye and talent and discipline, I don't care for his focus on psychopathic behavior and on the worst of humanity. Which is probably what my father did like...

Post-party Post

This also happens to be my first post from a smartphone.  Unusual concept for me but one I may apply in future...

I am feeling loved, and feted,  and tired. With an update to follow tomorrow!

Long Day, Good Day

Worked an 11.5 hr day (the good news is that I was able to do so without falling apart from the pain in my leg). Then got groceries, made a simple dinner, lost myself to an intense British police drama (episode 1 of Season 2 of Hinterland) followed by a Futurama unicorn chaser. Now the reading and the writing before bed! At least blogging daily is becoming more automatic. A trend that pleases me.

Ok Nietzsche

As I mentioned on the dreaded FB, am I strong enough, already?

A second day of challenges, but my spirits (while they hit something of a nadir mid-afternoon) have rebounded.

I am grateful for the support of my trainer and chiropractor, who are also my good friends, as well as that of other friends and family in my life who care about me, and for me, and buoy me up.

I am also grateful that it is Friday Eve Eve!

Drat

Last spring, I had a bout of sciatica after unloading a truck bed full of pieces of a tree.
Last month, I pulled my right tfl (hip muscle). I was just about over that, and apparently, somehow, pulled something on my left side. It feels like my IT band is busted. Hence the "Drat."

It only hurts when I sit. Or try to stand after sitting. Or lie down on that side, or try to turn from one side to another in bed. But this too shall pass! I am only whining about it now because I'm tired and a bit demoralized from a hard work day and being in pain.

Tomorrow shall be a better day!

Poetry Brain

I've been so immersed in completing the latest draft of my thesis (38 poems) and reviewing books of poetry - plus writing new poems - that my brain is feeling a little foggy. In the best way.

Writing poetry puts one in an altered state. Of course, it can also be true that being in an altered state can make one write poetry, but I've found that there's a distinct mood associated with the act. Perhaps some day I shall better articulate that idea. For now, I know that my alarm will be going off in fewer than 8 hours, and I still want to stretch out some tight muscles before I hit the hay. Anon, anon.

And here's a figure from Asterix found online as proof for my thesis advisor that SPQR should be known to readers of the comic.

I *knew* I forgot something!

This is what I lovingly call a retro-post. As in, "Doh!" I went to bed without having written something earth-shattering - or even mind-numbingly dull - in my blog.

D. and I spent most of the day visiting his father, whose living situation must change soon given his health, his finances, and most of all his distance from us. He's an hour away by car on a good day without traffic, and more than twice that during commute hours or if there's an accident. Not tenable. The details will have to be worked out, though. I hadn't expected to be moving an octogenarian while finishing my master's thesis, but that's how life operates, and I'm grateful that these are the only current challenges - that, and lay-offs at work. May that be all for now. Lord willing, and the creeks don't rise...

Points

I am reading a book (Making a Point) that dedicates three chapters to the use of the comma.

Honestly, if it weren't for the way the author's personality shines through in his didactic suggestions sprinkled with examples from his own life, I don't think I would have made it this far into the book. I should finish it tomorrow or Monday at the latest. It contains the following helpful  gems:

About changing typeface rather than punctuation to perform a separating function (as here, with no colon following the italics!)

The modern principle is to avoid graphic tautology: don't use two conventions when one would do. Use the fewest marks possible to make your meaning clear. (p. 135)

About the semicolon

Its use or non-use should be governed by a sensitive appreciation of its role in relation to the discourse as a whole, in which semantics - not grammar - is the primary consideration. (p. 211) 

 The book is 360 pages long. Don't be jealous.

Throes

I am in the throes of working on my next packet for my MFA advisor. I would like to submerge myself completely in reading and writing only this weekend, nevermind sleep or preparing dinners (which I did do tonight, for a couple of hours) or walking the dog....

But I have two or three other items on my dance card - all of them pleasant enough - that will take up some of my time and therefore break me out of any unlikely but coveted creative spell.

I've just gone a long walk as the sun set and the stars, and what I think must have been a little drone, started to wink on. So it's given me a second wind. With the hopeful prospect of sleeping past 5am tomorrow, I will let this momentum carry me forward to work on the above-mentioned reading and writing.

Speaking of "second winds" - here's an excerpt from the wikipedia page on the subject, which I find interesting and slightly amusing:

The so-called Wake Maintenance Zone generally lasts 2 to 3 hours, during which one is less inclined to fall asleep. While potentially useful for completing urgent tasks, it may have a potentially unwanted side-effect of keeping one awake for several hours after the task has been completed. The hypervigilance and stimulation brought on by a second wind can cause fatigue, which, in the case of infants, can be literally painful. Thus, an infant may begin crying when sleep habits are disrupted.One can avoid "getting a second wind" by practicing proper sleep hygiene.

I guess tonight I am not practicing proper sleep hygiene.

Almost Friday

For some reason, all week, I've thought it was Friday. I am so happy it will be here tomorrow, at last. With a 3-day weekend to work on my thesis manuscript - hooray!

I had joked with D. on our walk tonight that I want to write three words and go to bed. I have exceeded my goals!

In fact, I think I shall read more of the riveting book about the history of punctuation I'm half-way through. There's a risk it will wake me from my sleepiness - really - but that's okay. And it has the added benefit of being written by a gentleman who, although Irish, is a professor at the University of Wales in Bangor - my almost alma mater (except that I didn't enroll in the Masters in Arthurian Literature program in which I'd been accepted in 1989). He is also rather Gandalf-eque.

Everything But the Task at Hand

...sometimes that's what working on my thesis looks like.

My house is never cleaner than when I am not (yet) writing.

Although on the flip side, there is, I've come to realize, a danger to getting a second wind in the evenings. More schoolwork gets done, but less sleep. The next day, my emotional resilience is compromised, and I'm less likely to do any writing. So it's a question of balance. I may never be a madly creative "successful" genius. I care about sleeping too much. Ahh...sleep...beloved sleep...

Not Swearing In, Not Swearing Off

I was called to appear for possible Jury duty this morning, and after a couple of hours of waiting and watching others go through voir dire, I was among a group of about twenty people who were excused.

So of course I went to work for a couple of hours after that. I know people who would have tried to get out of jury duty, or tried to get on the jury, or would have at the very least taken advantage of the day to not return to work. But as I've said many times, this country asks so little of its citizens, it seems ridiculous to try to squirm out of jury duty. Besides, it makes for even better people-watching than airports. And as for not taking more time off - well, we have just too much work to do in the office for me not to have gone back in.

At least the day ended both productively and creatively; after picking S. up from school and running a quick grocery errand, I headed back to Novato for the second time in the day to a poetry-writing group. Good tea and delicious birthday crumble, excellent company and an hour straight of much-needed writing. Thus the "not swearing off" portion of this blog entry title. Tired as I may be, I did not swear off the truly important work of the day!

Anticipation

What is it I've been waiting for, and am impatient about not yet having?

More importantly, what have I missed because I haven't been paying attention to what I already have?

If This is Fifty

...then Fifty feels great. I was spoiled Thursday at work with presents and honey-bee lemon curd honeycomb-shaped cupcakes. And today was wonderful. An indulgent breakfast, good coffee made by my husband, a great phone call from my birth dad,  a dip into a poetry book, then the triple play combo: haircut/massage/facial (such decadence!), then driving in the areas east of town where D. & I would love to have a house with a few acres, just scoping out the not-yet-possible. Incredible churro cheesecake made by N., bumming around with the kids...I also got some hive watching in (nothing says happy birthday like healthy bees) and a walk with the dog in the dark. Surprisingly, I had next to no desire to binge on food today - instead, I honored my body. [Um. Except for the bacon/donut breakfast and cheesecake dinner...] But when I had a choice of drinks, I mostly wanted (and got) a green vegetable juice. And I didn't buy any candy or down a bunch of booze. I do want this mortal coil to last as many more decades as possible before I shuffle it off!

I am so very, very grateful to the many - certainly more than 50 - people who have touched my life in positive ways! Both sets of parents, all my siblings, my husband and children, all my family & friends & mentors....so many truly wonderful human beings. I am blessed.

Besides, you gotta love a kid that puts 4-0 on your 50th birthday cake....

Day Two

The cookie dough and wine were a bad idea. I felt sick all night and on edge until after noon today. Lesson learned!

Today I continued my birthday weekend fun by taking Tango to the dog park, taking myself and S. to the chiropractor, and then S. to a bass lesson. While she had her lesson, I wrote. Back home, I weeded like a crazy woman, then cleaned house and made dinner. Then worked on my thesis.

I have just over two more hours to be in my forties but I think I'll have to hit the hay soon.
Here's to the last decade! It's been a good one.

Let the Spoiling Begin

Stage one of my pre-birthday self-pampering spree has been completed.

After working 6am-3pm and picking S. up from school – the last day of the first week of the penultimate year of H.S. – I got a pedicure, and then a manicure (which I very rarely do) and then had my eyebrows shaped. I think it’s only the 3^rd time I’ve tried that last activity.

I said "thank you" in Vietnamese at the nail salon and "thank you" in Hindi at the brow bar. What does that indicate? It indicates that women whose first language is not English were working in jobs to pamper those who can afford such unnecessary indulgences. I have all sorts of mixed feelings about this - but apparently, not enough discomfort to stop me from going, and from taking advantage of the opportunities for language lessons. 

I also had red wine after more than a week of abstinence, and ate the evil pre-packaged cookie dough that Safeway now carries for people like me who prefer it raw. I also chain-watched Parks and Recreation with S. until I fell asleep on the couch. Hmmm. Let the weekend begin!