Author Archives: planting

This is our Christmas Tree…

If you look closely, you will see that yes indeed there are lights on the tree. It’s been up for a couple of weeks and yesterday, it got it’s one and only decoration. A little knitted bottle top cozy. I admit I am liking the minimalist vibe of this tree. Mr Chips comes in the house each morning and plugs it in and then unplugs it and tries to fling the cord across the room and if he put a little more muscle in it, the tree would go along with it.
So, since our last episode, not only has a Christmas tree appeared in our house but I have a new job. Not a full time one but one that takes up a lot of psychic space nonetheless. Not to mention they like me to be there at very specific hours. This whole job thing is seriously cutting in to my refurbishing of El Viejo who sits in the driveway getting pretty, very slowly. 
The process continues.

Namaste Christmas.

Lunch of Champions

Black beans, kimchi, fried sweet plantains, avocado, steamed cauliflower on a bed of braised collard greens.
I ate every last delectable bite. This is my kind of lunch. Greens being the base and vegetables and kimchi singing backup and something sweet to balance it all out. 
It is soul nourishing to eat this way and it’s also getting me through painting El Viejo my new/old Toy Home.
Have I mentioned I hate painting? I do and this morning I was questioning the hell out of myself for having started down this path but here I am half way through. It will look great. Fresh and clean and you know, it’s white so it expands the space visually. Or so they tell me. All I know is I’m tired of painting! 
Also… white? Really? When I told my daughter I was painting it white she just looked at me. She’s getting a lot better about not just coming out and saying what’s on her mind but I can hear what’s on her mind. I made her so she doesn’t really have to speak. She said BORING! loud and clear without saying a word. She’s right of course.  There is nothing more boring than white. There is also nothing easier to live with AND there will be color. 
In small portions. 
Unlike my lunch. 

Yoga Props and El Viejo gets a Makeover

For those of you using props to practice yoga, I hereby recommend one you may not have considered. An almost two year old boy. He is strong, brave, flexible and game for supporting you wherever you may need him and even in places where you don’t.

He is available weekends. He has other shit to do during the week. He is one very busy almost two year old.

The tear down of the new Bug Out mobile has begun and it has been named, El Viejo. It’s a he, there’s no doubt even though he was wearing lace curtains, he has a sweet soft side. He was (and still is but not for long) draped in plaid. 1980’s brown and gold plaid. The brown carpeting was installed with some kind of alien staples that require dynamite to remove though the $10 crow bar I bought at the home depot is working. Slowly.

Gaze upon him in all his original plaid glory….

Note the lovely autumn harvest gold refrigerator and the gold toned floral wallpaper and the gold clock which is still ticking! Somebody really liked gold.

And here we have Mr Chips about to get in the driver’s seat and mess with every single button and knob he can reach so that when you start the engine, everything is already on and blinking. Radio, wipers, turn signals. Woo hooo!!!!
He’s also available for this kind of work on weekends ,if he’s not helping me with my yoga. He will take fish crackers and date shakes in lieu of cash.

Namaste.

The Man of the house is gone for a few days and left me in charge. Or so I’m interpreting the situation. Really no one is in charge. It’s a house full of unruly children. We jump on the beds, eat ice cream for dinner and do not clean up after ourselves. Oh wait. That’s what normally happens. With me in charge there is no jumping on the bed but there is eating and reading in bed. There isn’t ice cream for dinner but there are strawberries and chocolate and as for cleaning up after ourselves, well, that’s the same.

I’m over my cold. I’m here to report all the silly supplements I took with feverish faith worked like a charm. My colds usually last up to and sometimes beyond a month and this one got it’s ass kicked in exactly one week. Take that stupid cold!

My new Bug OUt vehicle arrives tomorrow. Holy Crap! It’s an antique, an old Toyota Dolphin with original everything. It’s interior is so ugly it’s bordering on beautiful but I can’t live on that border so it will be getting re-done. As in Sweet Lime re-done. Remember the Sweet Lime? I’m not going blue crazy this time. I think I’m going more subdued but that’s just a thought and you know what I think about them. They aren’t always trustworthy.

This is Halloween

I have finally succumbed to the cold that has had it’s way with every member of this household. I am taking measures. Elderberry syrup and massive amounts of Vitamin C. I am open to other recommendations.
One thing I find really disturbing is how I am feeling so truly awful and weak and meanwhile Mr. Chips, who is 23 months old tomorrow, the little guy who introduced this particular bug into our home, went through it without one word of complaint. He didn’t care that his nose was running like an open faucet or that his throat was sore or whatever else he was feeling. He didn’t slow down one little bit he went on about his business as usual. He is not a wimpy baby. I, however, am a wimpy grandma. I admit it.

I started back at my old job as Inn Keeper, just covering a couple of shifts here and there. There is a new coffee maker. That’s about all that has changed in the couple of years I’ve been gone. Everything else is exactly as I left it. I don’t know whether to be horrified by this. It goes against my fundamental belief that everything in the universe changes. It’s one of the four things I count on. Sunrise, sunset, dessert and everything changes.
Apparently the Inn exists in some other dimension. A dimension where a woman owns a rabbit and keeps it in it’s own bedroom with a little castle that it sleeps in and the rabbit wears rabbit diapers and the woman has pictures of it on her phone, many many pictures, and she is not the least bit embarrassed or shy about showing them to you and her husband sits and stares into space as she does so and you wonder, is this really happening? And then you look it up on the Internets and sure enough, someone makes and sells rabbit diapers. And chicken ones too.
Where is your god now?

Swimming in the bowl, Shopping at the Depot and Scarecrows…

I am not growing used to swimming in the fish bowl and I have started using some of the machines at the gym. I am now officially a hamster/fish. I don’t like gyms but as gyms go, this one is ok because it’s mostly a physical therapy kind of gym where the old and injured go so there aren’t too many desperate people trying to make their bodies fit the mold.

This weekend we took the grandchild shopping. It has become an increasingly difficult proposition. It cannot be done solo. It turns into something like this…

As a grandparent these scenes are not nearly as distressing as when one is a new parent.

This is Mr Chips at the Home Depot…

October is just about done. Thank the gods. This town is,once again, over run with Scarecrows. There are well over 200 scarecrows standing around freaking me out and causing people to drive 2 mph down the only commercial street there is in this town. That means a drive to the grocery store that used to take 5 minutes is now something one has to prepare for. Bring water, a snack and maybe a book on cd for the drive. This time of year turns me into a Grouch.  I mean a real ugly one.

If you can’t come to see the Scarecrows with the rest of America, you can see them here.

I’m back on the left coast for well over a week now and have managed to unpack and make a batch of soap. Productivity level is low. Very low. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but…I miss the nauseating heat and humidity. I’m screaming on the inside at the thought of fall. I am bundled up against the gray skies and brown landscape here. There is a tiny sesame seed size seed of hope. I started knitting a sweater. Not much to go on I know.
The grandchild is huge and his unfortunate haircut is growing out. He swings between being a warm sweet snugly thing to a wild thrashing, screaming, hitting beast. It’s almost like he’s doing an interpretive dance about his grandmother. He is also a natural born organizer. He likes tidying up. He does it without being asked and sometimes without even thinking about it. This is a trait that skipped a generation and it’s a lovely thing.
I’ve joined the gym so I can swim because it has become an addiction. It’s a one person pool with adjustable waves. It’s pretty awful but that’s the thing about addiction. One will go to any lengths. Olympic size or 10-12 feet.

Namaste

  

Counting Down, Morning at the Library and Casket Shopping

Countdown to take off. We leave on Tuesday and although I am having a lovely time, there is this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach… I don’t like waiting.

There is also an internet problem at the house and so here we are, the monk and I, at the library and there is a couple sitting next to our table having a loud conversation. He is snippy and she’s wearing a sparkly shirt and is trying not to provoke him. The library isn’t just about  books anymore.
 I like to think of my mom counting down also, eager to have her space back to herself but I know that’s not true. She will miss us, as messy and large as we are in her space. I would be anxious as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I love my own space. I like the tidiness of it. The quiet. The monk gets up at five every morning and turns on lights and starts his day. He is a turtle carrying his home on his back. He is home wherever he is. It’s an amazing thing to watch. Like a nature show about a creature you never knew existed.

The couple is gone and now a little man in shorts and an orange v-neck sweater and fishing hat has taken their place. He is sitting, quietly reading his newspaper.  

The monk makes plans. He gets up in the morning and says “today we should…” and he rattles off a complete schedule. Yesterday we had to get up and go to the movies and then we had to go to lunch, Cuban because we had Italian the day before. After lunch we went home so he could bead and work on his translation before pool time. He swims in circles around me while I swim from end to end endlessly. My arms feel strong even though they are wrinkled. I have discovered that I can’t swim and laugh at the same time. That ends the outside activities portion of the day. Evenings are spent watching tv in between and around beading and translating for him, drawing and reading for me. But I’m mostly watching tv lately. Saving it all up for when I go home where I will not be watching food shows though I think I can maybe watch on my laptop. Addiction is a bitch.
Now I have to go casket shopping. Yes, casket shopping. My mom has been after me to take her to pick out her box. Seriously. I had done a pretty good job of avoiding this task up until now. She mentioned it to the monk and it is now on the schedule for this afternoon. I still have a plan on how to avoid this. Stay tuned. So this morning she asked if I’d do some comparison shopping on line before we go to the cemetery this afternoon. I found this.

and this…



If you click on the picture it will take you to an article about Why Caskets Occasionally Explode.
You’re welcome.
I finally made it to the beach. I stepped foot in the Atlantic Ocean. It was warm and lovely.  I’m so glad I got that done because it looks like rain for the next four days! What?
The Monk is here and we have already settled into a routine, the Monk’s favorite thing. I’ve never met anyone who loves organization as much as he does. If he weren’t a Buddhist, he would be an Organizationalist. I think I just made that up but I’ll have to check with Google. We swam in the pool yesterday and he showed me how to float so I can get some sun on my legs so I won’t look like I’ve been dip dyed. I don’t think I’ll have enough time to even things out.
Mom is doing much better, an amazing recovery. It will be hard to say good-bye though. She likes my being here even though I am not the best company. My husband seems to like my company also so I need to get home. Internet signal waning…
Namaste

Ponderings, Laundry Room Shenanigans and Beautiful Skies

Here I am, still. The Monk arrives day after tomorrow and then time will speed up and before I know it, I will be back home, wiping Sir Chips Ahoy’s butt. I feel like I’ve been here exactly as long as I’ve been here, almost three months. I am acclimated. 84 degrees now seems on the chilly side.


I feel like I am supposed to be doing something here. Not just sitting with her in the afternoon watching cooking and travel shows and making her tea in the late evenings and taking her to her doctor appointments. I feel like I’m supposed to “wrap things up”, conclude and resolve and make right all wrongs. Express my innermost self and listen to confessions, admissions, lessons. It’s not like that at all. It’s quiet and I am on almost constant orange alert, exasperated with myself mostly for these auto pilot feelings. They are upon me before thought, they erupt like little volcanoes. Thankfully I do not allow them to flow freely, diverting the flow instead into a reservoir where I can study them later and then release them. What does it matter if I understand why or where as long as I can just let it all go. In the end none of it really matters. What she did, what I did, what she said etc. Is there any real gain in getting it all sorted out and understood? Will anything be different? I don’t know. Some relationships are meant to be worked on and out and through to a deep place and others, just aren’t. Though I believe we are here for the purpose of connecting with one another, I don’t think it’s possible to do so with everyone. There are degrees. Levels. Depth isn’t always possible for whatever reason and it can feel like a failure. But it isn’t. These are things I am examining in between rain storms and swimming, reading and cooking and eating and watching way too much TV. I long to be home. I long to have this life figured out enough to maneuver my way through with some semblance of grace and gratitude. I long for a greasy BLT.


There is something afoot in the apt complex laundry room. There have been no less than three notices about “activities” and measures taken to put a stop to them. Locks were installed but broom handles and bricks were used to prevent the locking. Another notice this morning warns that stronger measures are being taken. Cameras will now be installed. They’re watching you, whoever you laundry room marauders are.  

Shots from this afternoon….





The highlight of my day so far, was the produce place. I am so head over heels in love with this place that I am thinking of moving here just to be near it. Last time I was there they had some pretty rare fruits like Durian and Dragon fruit, I was overwhelmed and with my mother and brother and the place was packed as it was today but today I whipped out my phone and clicked away. This place is a food paradise.
Here are some of their offerings:

Indian Bittermelon, they also had Chinese Bittermelon which were bigger and looked more like bumpy cucumbers.

I forgot what this is called. Spiny yautia maybe?

They have a remarkable selection of root vegetables but there were too many people to get more pictures.

In addition to produce they have an amazing selection of international food stuff like these oats from Jamaica.

Extra strength German vinegar via Korea?

Ackee from West Africa but apparently the national fruit of Jamaica? I see a chihuahua face in there, do you see it?

Tastee Cheese!

Prices are excellent. Sorry Publix, this place puts you to shame.

And it’s not just about the food. There are skin and hair products like this Gorilla Snot Gel. Extra Brillante or Explosivo. Dude.
On the way home I saw this place and thought “how cool, drive-thru green tea!”. Yea, not really. It’s a Chinese restaurant. So now I know where I can get some drive-thru Chinese.
My face and arms have turned a pretty caramel color, like my mom’s. I am trying to figure out a way to swim so that my legs will get some sun too and I won’t look like I’ve been dip dyed.
namaste

Disappearing

It’s a positively comfortable 86 degrees today real feel 93.

I am still here. I am waiting for the Monk who will be here on the 21st.  We made these plans last year. I was supposed to go up to NY for a few days and I was actually looking forward to spending some time in the Temple but oh well, maybe next year?

Mother is home and getting around on her own, cooking her own lunch today after I made a lentil soup yesterday that would grow you some dreadlocks along with red burning eyes. Ooops. I thought it was delicious but for a woman with heart and blood pressure problems, a potentially deadly meal.  It seems I don’t cook well for others. I recently attempted a delicious falafel and tsatsiki meal to welcome my cousin and though I ate some of it, it was a hot mess I did not feel was suitable for any audience. Luckily she brought some food with her because if you’re Puerto Rican you don’t show up at any ones house without some food.

I’m reading and thoroughly enjoying The 100 Year Old Man who Climbed Out The Window and Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson.
from the book:
“you should beware of priests, my son. And people who don’t drink vodka. Worst of all are priests who don’t drink vodka.”

I bid you a great morning, afternoon and evening.

If Disney Was a Hospital and if I were Smoove B

There was another set back. Another hospital stay. This hospital has a real Disneyesque feeling about it. If I were in charge the doctors would be dressed like Goofy and The Beast and the nurses and aides as Mickie and/or Minny or the little Mermaid. The new wing, the one she was in last week had free valet parking and fountains and computer stations every few feet and a cafe that had a vegan lentil and rice bowl on their. The rooms were spacious, there was artwork hanging on the walls. The older wing, the one she is currently in is the older (wing) Disney. A grand piano that plays itself (!) right by the elevators and and anchor as it’s symbol. Each wing has a symbol. Yesterday I walked from the new to the old, the dolphin to  the anchor, something that is JUST NOT DONE. They have little old men in golf carts that take you from one wing to the other, a free ride, no ticket required, but I haven’t been walking because it’s 90+ degrees outside with 90+ humidity and my glasses fog as soon as I step outside. So I walked through endless warrens with endless turns and doorways and I thought about that Being John Malkevich movie and thought I might eventually come upon a ¾ floor with a hole to fall through. Who would I become if I could become someone else? Not John Malkevich. A restaurant critic most likely or a shoe model? A therapist with my own brand of therapy, something Disney or Star Trek related or a museum guard? The Dog Whisperer or Daniel Craig? Or just me, only liberated and smooth.



She’s getting sprung today but you know…that don’t mean a thing.

Keep it Real.

Birthday Mandala

Twenty-two years ago today, just a few miles down the road from here, I gave birth to my beautiful baby girl.  My partner was with me, in my face, breathing hard with me and never letting me go and he never has let me go, ever.  I’m a little sad that I’m not home with them today in our little nest, eating cake and smiling and happy that we made it to this day because there were times…

I will celebrate from here, I will make another chocolate concoction and put a candle on it and give my deepest thanks for all of it and send my beautiful girl all the bestest wishes there are in the universe and thank her again and again for being my greatest teacher and for bringing that wild rascal into this world for us to love and hold.

I made this mandala today out of all the leaves and flowers I have been picking here and there…

I have no idea what most of these are. I believe the purple ones are plumbago, the most delicate ones. The one in the center is an impatiens blossom that was laying almost in front of the door and I walked right by it before I realized what it was and accepted it for the gift it was.  One meaning I found for impatiens is motherly love.

Mother is doing better. Coming home next week if all goes as planned. We all know how that goes but I am keeping my fingers crossed, she’s about sick to death of The Romulan Rehab as am I.

Namaste Everyone.

The other day at the Romulan Rehab a frail looking woman in a walker stopped her long slow journey down the hallway and beckoned to me with her hand. She was mumbling and no one else was around so I took her hand and tried to decipher what she was saying but I realized quickly they weren’t words I could understand so I smiled at her and tried to take my hand back but she tightened her grip and the more I tried to take my hand back the harder she held on. She was remarkably strong for someone who could barely walk and it was with real effort on my part that I was able to pull my hand back. That’s usually the part in the movie where the shit starts getting really scary, cue the scary music…

That place is freaky man!

Meanwhile back at the apartment….



I painted this picture of my abuelita. It’s from a tiny photograph that my mom had enlarged and retouched. There was some damage to the lower left hand corner so someone painted some roses there. I’ve been picking flowers and leaves from around the neighborhood and pressing them so I just added some of those instead of painting the roses.


I’m not just eating and fighting off old women! Though I do have some salt cod soaking in the fridge for tomorrow, stay tuned, and I’ve already finished my, use what I have dessert from the other day so I made some more today. 

Yes I did.
Ciao y’all