Most people find comfort in the familiar.

Living in a small town you can’t go to the drug store, library, post office, restaurant, or grocery store without running into people you know and see every day and most times you can’t get away with a wave and a smile. In a grocery store with 8 or 9 tiny aisles this also means you can’t duck down the bread aisle and then to the check out unnoticed and even if you were somehow lucky enough to have maneuvered away from someone because they have run into someone else and are busy chatting with them, there is always the check out girl. You’re not avoiding them (unless you pull a runner and that’s not an option either because you are known to all the cops in town too). You know every single one of them. You know about their mother’s knee operation and what’s worse, they know all about you too. They ask after your family members or ask about something they’ve heard about you. I am not one of the many that find this comforting. I’m one of the few who find it more than a little…invasive.

I’d like to go to the store and not know anyone.

My visit to NY a couple of months ago was rejuvenating and relaxing for me for just that reason I think. It was comforting to walk out of my door on 14th street and like slipping into a warm bath, join in the flow of humanity. I’d run down the subway steps, pass through the turnstile and not meet anyones eyes. So much to look at and think about without having to talk to anyone about anything. That’s home to me. That makes me feel more a part of things than running into a neighbor at the grocery store and chatting about the weather or his trip to the doctor. Being forced to be sociable is work for me. Sometimes I enjoy it but I have to be mentally prepared for it and at least have clean clothes and lipstick on.

My comfort in the familiar takes a more finical form. I like my homemade granola and soy milk for breakfast every single day in my black and white bowl along with the Dishwasher’s coffee, which is strong enough to curl all my little hairs. I have to have it. I have to watch All My Children on weekdays. I have to do my Sudoku everyday. Something is off if I don’t see Lu’s face smushed up in her bed every morning. Like some obsessive compulsive person who has to wash their hands fifty times or checks the locks over and over again before going to bed, I need something on my knitting needles to sit and watch All My Children.

Every few years though, a deracination occurs. I’ll stop the granola and soy milk and then it’ll be migas for breakfast every day for the next 5.3 years. I’ll quit watching All My Children and after 3 years when I turn it on again at 1 pm eastern time, 12 pm western all the same actors will still be there, looking younger in a stiff pulled up sort of way, still reciting the same lines with an almost straight face. I’ll quit knitting and take up pottery and fill the house with little doll sculptures.

And that’s how I wound up in this small town in the first place. Some days I wake up and think something and my whole life changes and I settle into whatever the different thing is and there I roost until…. .

Most people find comfort in the familiar.

Living in a small town you can’t go to the drug store, library, post office, restaurant, or grocery store without running into people you know and see every day and most times you can’t get away with a wave and a smile. In a grocery store with 8 or 9 tiny aisles this also means you can’t duck down the bread aisle and then to the check out unnoticed and even if you were somehow lucky enough to have maneuvered away from someone because they have run into someone else and are busy chatting with them, there is always the check out girl. You’re not avoiding them (unless you pull a runner and that’s not an option either because you are known to all the cops in town too). You know every single one of them. You know about their mother’s knee operation and what’s worse, they know all about you too. They ask after your family members or ask about something they’ve heard about you. I am not one of the many that find this comforting. I’m one of the few who find it more than a little…invasive.

I’d like to go to the store and not know anyone.

My visit to NY a couple of months ago was rejuvenating and relaxing for me for just that reason I think. It was comforting to walk out of my door on 14th street and like slipping into a warm bath, join in the flow of humanity. I’d run down the subway steps, pass through the turnstile and not meet anyones eyes. So much to look at and think about without having to talk to anyone about anything. That’s home to me. That makes me feel more a part of things than running into a neighbor at the grocery store and chatting about the weather or his trip to the doctor. Being forced to be sociable is work for me. Sometimes I enjoy it but I have to be mentally prepared for it and at least have clean clothes and lipstick on.

My comfort in the familiar takes a more finical form. I like my homemade granola and soy milk for breakfast every single day in my black and white bowl along with the Dishwasher’s coffee, which is strong enough to curl all my little hairs. I have to have it. I have to watch All My Children on weekdays. I have to do my Sudoku everyday. Something is off if I don’t see Lu’s face smushed up in her bed every morning. Like some obsessive compulsive person who has to wash their hands fifty times or checks the locks over and over again before going to bed, I need something on my knitting needles to sit and watch All My Children.

Every few years though, a deracination occurs. I’ll stop the granola and soy milk and then it’ll be migas for breakfast every day for the next 5.3 years. I’ll quit watching All My Children and after 3 years when I turn it on again at 1 pm eastern time, 12 pm western all the same actors will still be there, looking younger in a stiff pulled up sort of way, still reciting the same lines with an almost straight face. I’ll quit knitting and take up pottery and fill the house with little doll sculptures.

And that’s how I wound up in this small town in the first place. Some days I wake up and think something and my whole life changes and I settle into whatever the different thing is and there I roost until…. .

Most people find comfort in the familiar.

Living in a small town you can’t go to the drug store, library, post office, restaurant, or grocery store without running into people you know and see every day and most times you can’t get away with a wave and a smile. In a grocery store with 8 or 9 tiny aisles this also means you can’t duck down the bread aisle and then to the check out unnoticed and even if you were somehow lucky enough to have maneuvered away from someone because they have run into someone else and are busy chatting with them, there is always the check out girl. You’re not avoiding them (unless you pull a runner and that’s not an option either because you are known to all the cops in town too). You know every single one of them. You know about their mother’s knee operation and what’s worse, they know all about you too. They ask after your family members or ask about something they’ve heard about you. I am not one of the many that find this comforting. I’m one of the few who find it more than a little…invasive.

I’d like to go to the store and not know anyone.

My visit to NY a couple of months ago was rejuvenating and relaxing for me for just that reason I think. It was comforting to walk out of my door on 14th street and like slipping into a warm bath, join in the flow of humanity. I’d run down the subway steps, pass through the turnstile and not meet anyones eyes. So much to look at and think about without having to talk to anyone about anything. That’s home to me. That makes me feel more a part of things than running into a neighbor at the grocery store and chatting about the weather or his trip to the doctor. Being forced to be sociable is work for me. Sometimes I enjoy it but I have to be mentally prepared for it and at least have clean clothes and lipstick on.

My comfort in the familiar takes a more finical form. I like my homemade granola and soy milk for breakfast every single day in my black and white bowl along with the Dishwasher’s coffee, which is strong enough to curl all my little hairs. I have to have it. I have to watch All My Children on weekdays. I have to do my Sudoku everyday. Something is off if I don’t see Lu’s face smushed up in her bed every morning. Like some obsessive compulsive person who has to wash their hands fifty times or checks the locks over and over again before going to bed, I need something on my knitting needles to sit and watch All My Children.

Every few years though, a deracination occurs. I’ll stop the granola and soy milk and then it’ll be migas for breakfast every day for the next 5.3 years. I’ll quit watching All My Children and after 3 years when I turn it on again at 1 pm eastern time, 12 pm western all the same actors will still be there, looking younger in a stiff pulled up sort of way, still reciting the same lines with an almost straight face. I’ll quit knitting and take up pottery and fill the house with little doll sculptures.

And that’s how I wound up in this small town in the first place. Some days I wake up and think something and my whole life changes and I settle into whatever the different thing is and there I roost until…. .

Born within the enso of the world,
the human heart must also
become an enso.

The Dishwasher is gone for a couple days. Off fighting crime again. Whaddya gonna do?
Lu is licking herself incessantly next to me here and Em is watching the X files and doing her homework.

I’ve stuffed myself to popping with my new favorite soup, recipe follows, and several chocolate truffles and a glass of wine. The dishes. O the dishes. Maybe I’ll throw them out. That soup bowl is chipped anyway.

When my book opened up to this page in my cookbook I turned up my nose a little and thought why waste a beautiful butternut squash like that? But I tried it anyway and now I am in love.

Black Bean and Roasted Butternut Squash Soup

1 med butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut
olive oil, a couple tablespoons
some salt

another couple tablespoons olive oil
1 onion chopped
8 cloves of garlic. really
1 jalapeno but I’ve made it without and it was just as good
1 14oz can of tomatoes
1 14 oz can of black beans
2 potatoes. any kind
32 oz veggie broth in a box
sprinkle of cumin powder
sprinkle of cayenne

toss in olive oil and sprinkle with salt and then roast the squash in 400 degree oven for about 1/2 hour.
Heat olive oil in pot and add garlic and onion saute until caramelized, about 20 minutes. Don’t burn the garlic. Add the tomatoes and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the beans, potatoes, broth and seasonings and simmer about 20 minutes or so. Add the squash and adjust seasonings.
Serve with avocado, sour cream, cilantro or green onions.
Yum.

Born within the enso of the world,
the human heart must also
become an enso.

The Dishwasher is gone for a couple days. Off fighting crime again. Whaddya gonna do?
Lu is licking herself incessantly next to me here and Em is watching the X files and doing her homework.

I’ve stuffed myself to popping with my new favorite soup, recipe follows, and several chocolate truffles and a glass of wine. The dishes. O the dishes. Maybe I’ll throw them out. That soup bowl is chipped anyway.

When my book opened up to this page in my cookbook I turned up my nose a little and thought why waste a beautiful butternut squash like that? But I tried it anyway and now I am in love.

Black Bean and Roasted Butternut Squash Soup

1 med butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut
olive oil, a couple tablespoons
some salt

another couple tablespoons olive oil
1 onion chopped
8 cloves of garlic. really
1 jalapeno but I’ve made it without and it was just as good
1 14oz can of tomatoes
1 14 oz can of black beans
2 potatoes. any kind
32 oz veggie broth in a box
sprinkle of cumin powder
sprinkle of cayenne

toss in olive oil and sprinkle with salt and then roast the squash in 400 degree oven for about 1/2 hour.
Heat olive oil in pot and add garlic and onion saute until caramelized, about 20 minutes. Don’t burn the garlic. Add the tomatoes and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the beans, potatoes, broth and seasonings and simmer about 20 minutes or so. Add the squash and adjust seasonings.
Serve with avocado, sour cream, cilantro or green onions.
Yum.

Born within the enso of the world,
the human heart must also
become an enso.

The Dishwasher is gone for a couple days. Off fighting crime again. Whaddya gonna do?
Lu is licking herself incessantly next to me here and Em is watching the X files and doing her homework.

I’ve stuffed myself to popping with my new favorite soup, recipe follows, and several chocolate truffles and a glass of wine. The dishes. O the dishes. Maybe I’ll throw them out. That soup bowl is chipped anyway.

When my book opened up to this page in my cookbook I turned up my nose a little and thought why waste a beautiful butternut squash like that? But I tried it anyway and now I am in love.

Black Bean and Roasted Butternut Squash Soup

1 med butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut
olive oil, a couple tablespoons
some salt

another couple tablespoons olive oil
1 onion chopped
8 cloves of garlic. really
1 jalapeno but I’ve made it without and it was just as good
1 14oz can of tomatoes
1 14 oz can of black beans
2 potatoes. any kind
32 oz veggie broth in a box
sprinkle of cumin powder
sprinkle of cayenne

toss in olive oil and sprinkle with salt and then roast the squash in 400 degree oven for about 1/2 hour.
Heat olive oil in pot and add garlic and onion saute until caramelized, about 20 minutes. Don’t burn the garlic. Add the tomatoes and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the beans, potatoes, broth and seasonings and simmer about 20 minutes or so. Add the squash and adjust seasonings.
Serve with avocado, sour cream, cilantro or green onions.
Yum.

Live for the moment, because there is only one result in life.

Live for the moment, because there is only one result in life.

Live for the moment, because there is only one result in life.

Mary Rose, or it could be Evelyn is blooming in the central garden as are the old pink rose and the pink sage in the little basket garden (see below). One day it’s warm and sunny and the next it’s almost freezing but the roses don’t seem to care. On and on they go.

I’m not spending any time out there anymore. Even the lair sits abandoned. I took the carpet out of there and put it in the studio so I could do my yoga there instead but the new heater is seeping out toxic plastic fumes so I don’t know that deep breathing in there is doing me any good.

I’m waiting for a storm. It feels like it will start at any moment. This storm I’m looking forward to. This storm I will enjoy from the comfort of my little nest. A fire, a delicious beverage maybe and the little sticks. It’s that OTHER storm I’m preparing for that I won’t enjoy but feel anxious for because THAT particular storm will leave me dead and bloodied along the way. Toothless, tattered and raving but at least it will be done with. It’s the waiting you see. I don’t do that very well. I knit mostly while I’m doing it. I’ve started and unraveled I don’t know how many sweaters in the last couple of weeks. Really I shouldn’t start any real “project”. I should just pick up my needles and yarn and keep going back and forth until I have something that will cover the earth and on to the moon.
First I’m going to go cut some roses before the storm takes them.

El Teatro de La Cabeza Sucia

Presents

Into Every Life a Little Alien Robot Must Fall

Limited Engagement

It’s warm and sunny today but we have had real autumnal days this month as well as a little rain here and there. Enough to make the nasturtiums come up like crazy everywhere. The Allysum and the poppies as well.

The maple has lost most of it’s leaves and all the plants beneath it were eaten by gophers so we put in some snapdragons and daisies to make us feel better. We also took out the tomato and I’ve been eating tomato, scallions and cucumber with feta cheese for the last 3 days. Next year the tomato will have to go in one of the other beds. The bed it was in doesn’t get as much sun as the others. We put an artichoke in where the tomato was.

The back deck is still in progress. We got distracted there and went a little paint crazy in the house instead. The hallway now sports a spiffy stencilled paint job complete with tiny mirrors and a tiny chandelier.

Here’s our little Indian man next to the bamboo though he no longer sits there. We treat our yard very much like our interior. Things/plants get moved around as the mood strikes.

We planted the bed in front of the lair but I don’t have any pictures yet. Waiting for an overcast day and a free moment to happen all at the same time.

El Teatro de La Cabeza Sucia

Presents

Into Every Life a Little Alien Robot Must Fall

Limited Engagement

El Teatro de La Cabeza Sucia

Presents

Into Every Life a Little Alien Robot Must Fall

Limited Engagement

We’ve had two glorious rain days and every thing’s gotten a good soaking. We’ve been tidying up and have decided to go ahead and make a patio in back of the studio before finishing the bath house.

Stage one of the “patio”
.

Scottie went ahead and put the bamboo in the ground since it seems to like that spot well enough. I’m thrilled to see the white canna lilys coming up in that bed as we have a gorgeous display every spring but they’re on the side of the house no one sees. I’m always amazed at how many come up and how beautiful and hearty they are.

And always the monkey watches us.

My little trouble spot by the arbor in the central garden got camouflaged with some pots and a freshly painted birdhouse. The roses we dug up and put in those pots are looking spectacular. All have buds.

Vitarka Mudra
known as the gesture of reasoning.
Found at the Ace hardware in Morro Bay.

Some very welcome johnny-jump-up volunteers in the potted palm.