Birth and death. It happens everyday. There is nothing extraordinary about it. It’s how we all get here and how we all shall take our leave one day. And yet. Witnessing the birth of my grand baby this afternoon was miraculous. Talk about being in THE MOMENT.  Weeping with joy holding my girl while she pushed her baby into the world with a laugh. She wept and chuckled him right out of her body. It was…miraculous.

Mother, Father and beautiful baby boy are all doing swell. Grandmother and big brother? We snuggled up on the sofa and watched tv until his little head slumped to one side and his breath became a quiet snuffle.

 What a day.

There is a soft warm halo around everything. The world feels fresh, the sky clean, the earth glimmering, my heart as swollen and tender with love as it has ever been. Welcome baby Ryland. Welcome to your life.

It is, and has been, relentlessly gray and cool and I am ready for some blue sky and warm sun and ripe pears. The stupid SUPER market here in town doesn’t have ripe pears. Ever.

I wait.

Tiny living fits me. We are still in the process of building……..moving………purging. My daughter is about to deliver her baby into the light of this world and she is nesting like a BIG mama magpie. We are going through a lifetime’s worth of stuff. Discovering things like the plastic light up stars that we used to create constellations on the ceiling of her room when she was a child. A room her child is now sleeping in.

While I have been ruthlessly donating most of the stuff I have found, there are some things, silly things I can’t part with. The pig on the window sill, for example.

The pig stays.

I’m not fooling around this time.  Seriously. I got rid of more than half my clothes AND I’m not done yet. I am considering a uniform, religious garb of some kind. Once I get my religion right. I’m still working on that. I will have three or four “sets”. One on, one off, one in the wash and an extra for emergencies.
Stay tuned.
We moved from our little house (900 + square feet) to a tinier “house” ( 210 square feet).  What I didn’t give to the Goodwill I gave to my daughter who now lives in the “big” house with her family. Everyone is happier with this arrangement. Tearful built us a loft bed and is building us a bath house and dressing room area. He’s amazing once he gets going. Says he doesn’t know how to build things yet he has been building things for years. Including our new home. I’ll say something like, “we need a …” and he will almost always say it can’t be done and then he goes and does it. Just like that.
So, living small. It works beautifully. Everything has a place and there are no unnecessary things. I’m loving it. It makes me feel…calm.

I’m having one of those days. A glance in the mirror reflected this face back to me.  Is no one else alarmed?

I planted spinach and broccoli rabe because I had some seeds. I put the pot inside on the windowsill in the laundry room so no critters can interfere and I can easily mist the soil. It is a hopeful act.

Since I’ve been home I donated more than half of all my clothes to the Goodwill, where most of them came from. Making ready for a move. Again.

My daughter had her baby’s picture took this morning. He weighs roughly 5 lbs. She looks like she’s ready.

If someone would poke out the eyes of the hawks
We sparrows could dance wherever we please!

~Han Shan

Another night of fierce wind. And cold. When it was still blowing this morning I decided to leave the lake and head for the river. El Viejo handled the steep and windy drive north just fine. I found a quiet spot and set out my mat and stood on my head and twisted and let the sun and earth soak into me and it was…glorious. Got all the kinks out, made me smooth. Drove on to another spot even closer to the river where I settled in to charge my solar panel and cook my lunch. French lentils with stir fried asparagus and whole wheat naan. Bread you can make in a skillet! Sat by the river and listened. You know what I heard? An old Pretender’s song I cannot remember the title of or the lyrics, just the tune. The river was singing it to me. I sat and listened and a squirrel approached. I shooed him away but he wasn’t having it. He’d make believe he was leaving but then come back, each time getting closer.  He was stalking me.  A terrorist squirrel.

I can’t blame my paranoia on being married to a cop all these years. I came this way already assembled. I am by nature a suspicious person so this being out in the natural world by myself is a Grand Opening. I am opening the doors and asking my fears to leave quietly. Some of them are stubborn so I am looking for ways to convince them to go.  It’s a tricky business.

PS! The song was NOT a Pretenders song, it was Annie Lennox. I never knew the title of that song. It’s
Cold. Great lyrics and melody.
Thank you Kern River.

I spent last night here by Lake Isabella. Isn’t she pretty? It was a rocky night. The wind blew strong all night long and rocked me to sleep. I am not a fan of the wind so I practiced listening to it instead of being annoyed. It was a chorus of voices, the cheer of a crowd, the deep rumble of a train.
This morning is beautiful. Today I will practice just being here.
Namaste.

I dreamed I was in a play but it was being filmed on the ocean at night. There were a few of us in some sort of invisible floating craft when we all saw a whale approaching. I was already scared of being in the ocean AT NIGHT and we were in the path of this whale with no possible way to escape so we stopped and floated and I held out my hand to stroke it as it swam by. Imagine that.  I woke up and told Tearful right away because my dream world is elusive, dreams slip through my brain like water through an open palm.
This one was too good to let slip. I stroked a whale. 

Our house used to be golden. It’s not that anymore, it has become a burden to me. I no longer care for it. No matter how much I purge, stuff creeps in, like water rising in a sinking boat.  I know to some this house would seem incredibly small but to me, it’s too much. My needs are shrinking, I dream of a smaller place with only the necessities. My Viejo fits the bill for now. I think I’ve got the solar worked out. We shall see. I am leaving any minute now heading east.
See you out there.

We had a good one last night. A real pour down that did not last long but gave us a good soaking.  A larger storm is predicted for tomorrow with high winds and lightning. Woo hoo!  I do love a good rain storm. It washes the world clean.  The earth shook a few moments ago, a 4.5 it seems like. The earth flexing it’s muscles and the sky busting open. It’s a powerful show we are witnessing. 
During this intermission I scrambled to get my solar power hooked up for El Viejo but the instructions suddenly took a turn I could not follow so looks like I will have to wait for a greater mind to help me out. He’ll be around later tonight. In the meantime I made a delicious minestrone soup yesterday and bought firewood and borrowed a movie from the library as well as a couple of good books. 
One of which is Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn. Dark but engaging right from the start. I’ve got this in the oven and I’m thinking on and loving this:

Finally a god for the rest of us. One we can create to our individual liking.

There you go.

After the demise of my Bee Coffee mug I searched high and low to find another suitable cup and unexpectedly found one at the Goodwill one fine day. It’s got an Edward Gorey painting on it and it’s heat sensitive so a man appears from behind a black curtain, a cat appears in the potted fern and other little details reveal themselves as I pour my coffee in. It’s silly how much I enjoy this cup! And this plate. My dear Tearful surprised me with this one a few years ago and I only ever use it for “special occasions”. Like when all the other ones are dirty and I have a fine piece of my favorite sweet.

Here is the recipe:

Raw Nanaimo Cake

• 1 Cup Slivered Almonds
• 1/2 Cup Soaked Dates
• 1/2 Cup Unsweetened Shredded Coconut
• 1/4 Cup Cocoa Powder
• Dash of Salt

• 1/2 Cup Coconut Oil
• 1 Cup Soaked Cashews
• 1/4 Cup Agave Nectar
• 1Cup Coconut Cream
• 1Tsp Vanilla Extract

• 1/2 Cup Soaked Cashews
• 1/2 Cup Cocoa Powder
• 1/2 Cup Coconut Oil
• 1/4 Cup Agave Nectar

The ever elusive Lu.

She has a new throne these days and though she loves to spend hours lounging upon it, she does not like having her picture made while doing so. If she had big enough teeth she would have taken a big satisfying bite of my arm.

So that’s my yard these days. A junkyard complete with ferocious dog and old ugly furniture. There are daffodils blooming too. They remind me of those tenacious blades of grass you see coming through the cracks of a sidewalk.

When I look back there I can’t help thinking of that documentary Life After People. Nature takes over.

and I have absolutely no desire to interfere in any way. I am transfixed as I watch it crumbling all around me. 

It appears I have taken my little embroidery to heart.

Namaste.

PS. Blogger refuses to let me link that second image which belongs to Marina Molares. More of her series on nature taking over can be found @ marinamolares.com

This morning I went to see the Vivian Maier show at Cal Poly. I never would have known about it if I hadn’t been so sleepy and tired and sick to death of being at work last night. It was dead quiet except for the lunatic wandering into hotel lobbies and being all disheveled and threatening. I picked up the free paper to read my horoscope which told me I have to master the fine art of loving myself.  And so I loved myself so much I took myself to see the exhibit I read about in the tiny arts section of the paper.

There weren’t many photographs but with Vivian Maier, you don’t need many. Just a handful will keep your eyes rolling around in their sockets.

There was only one of her self portraits in the show but there are many more here and they are extraordinary. As are all of her photos. What an amazing story. How lucky we are that someone discovered these long hidden and forgotten treasures.

Go have a look and love yourself like you deserve to be loved.

My visit to the Sam’s Family Spa was cut short. Listening to that small insistent voice that can sometimes just be me wanting or not wanting something or can be a message from beyond me, is something I listen to regardless of it’s source. I woke up and instantly knew I had to leave first thing. No soaking in the tubs or walking around the lake. Breakfast and GO!
It was while I was unplugging my home on wheels that I got a text from my daughter saying she was on her way to the hospital as per her midwife’s recommendation. I guess I haven’t mentioned that she’s pregnant. Well, she is, due at the end of April, another boy baby! She’s a perfect boy baby mom. Tough as nails. When she was little she was all pink tutus and tea parties and though she is as feminine and beautiful a young woman as I’ve ever seen, she has a steel core.
So I made my little toy home go 60 whole miles per hour almost all the way home. He won’t manage that on the hills but with a good wind, down hill, he can make it.
Evidently Mr Chips was the first to get sick and then his mom and finally his grandfather. Chips is fine now fascinated with the dinosaur book I found for him at the naked bookseller. His mom is home but extremely uncomfortable and not complaining about it. Tearful is a hot mess. Sicker than I’ve ever seen him and me, I’m scared. I know I’m next and I am not tough as anything. I’m about as tough as a soft velvet pillow. Maybe.

So here I am, at work, pondering how quickly the last week passed, how quickly and violently everyone fell ill, how blogger will not spell check this post or add my link and how perfectly this woman is carrying this duck on her head.