It’s been one of those months. I’ll be happy to see the last of it. June conjures up sun and sprinklers over lush green lawns, gauzy summer dresses and refreshing beverages but the reality of June here is more gray wool, damp chilly winds and white skies. There are some blue skies scattered in between but for the most part…
It’s like that.
I’m looking forward to next month when I head east on a road trip with the Monk. Anything can happen.

Here it is. The French Fry Bush. The Quan Yin is out of focus so you can’t see her smile. I don’t know that I would be smiling if I had to sit and smell french fries all day but, she is the Bodhisattva of Compassion. French Fries, toddlers, babies, dancing bulldogs, all are welcome and loved and held in her loving embrace.

The little white blossoms turn into red berries in the fall. Anyone know this bush?

I am road weary. I have traveled all of California looking for a vehicle. I have become a Craigslist Connoisseur.  I have come so close but one thing and then another, has blown the deal. I am starting to worry.  Time is running out. If I have to settle for something less than perfect, I won’t have much time to work on it before the Monk arrives at the end of June. I go between feeling the right one will present itself and feeling like I should just take the one in front of me now that is less than.

I don’t know.

I am taking the day off of looking. I spent the morning with the cute baby.  I had Pandora tuned to the Opera station and held him so he could gaze at the quilt that hangs on the wall and which makes his eyes go all bright and shiny. He stares and goes into a trance.  He’s grown quite large, he now has more than one chin, but look at how dapper he is!

He was so entranced by the music and the quilt that he let me finish my book, The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis. I don’t remember where I got this title but wherever it was, I thank you.  A wonderful read.
And Thank You fat little baby!

The French Fry bush is in full bloom. The wind blows through and scatters the tiny white blossoms on my head and arms and feet as I practice my yoga. Lu joined me this morning and did her yoga, a  s l o w dance around the perimeter of the deck, her back festooned with French Fry blossoms.

The lair is a holy place, that smells like french fries.

It’s 94 degrees and I’m drinking a nice hot cup of Gundpowder green tea. Since last we spoke, I have become a tea drinker. Still having my morning cup of Get Up And Go coffee but then it’s tea for the rest of the day. And not that weak sauce tea in a bag stuff. I’ve discovered the wonderful world of loose leaf teas sold in the bulk section of Foods for the Rich health food store. Special blend Earl Grey, Darjeeling, a white tea with lavender blossoms, a black tea with ginger and lemon. I have a beautiful iron tea pot with infuser I bought ages ago and never used and it survived The GreaT Purge because of it’s beauty and because it looked pretty in the window sill and there are some things, like the pig from a previous post and this little bear that tug at my heart in an undeniable way. These things won’t quit me. Or I them.

This, like everything else will pass.

The sun finally showed up hot and shiny. We’re having a heat wave and that means it’s up in the high 80’s and we’re all sweaty and lethargic. I sold my beloved Viejo and am on the hunt for my next vehicle. I know! I can’t control me. My next adventure will be with the Monk. We will be driving to “sort out” his land somewhere in Colorado.

There is a wonderful story about one of his many projects here.

Namaste.

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.