Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Labyrinth of Life:

A day to sit and read in the rain,

The fragrance of wet flowing through the screen door,

The gray and dark light covers again,

Movement within my base, rolls round my core,


There's something about sounding out typewritten keys,

A melody clicking and clacking in sotto,

To write brings me high but then down to my knees,

I long, but feel anxiously challenged; my voto.


A winding tattoo rolls across my eyes,

The twisting and turning of magical marks,

A weaving of destined and endless surprise,

My flickering candles shine light with their sparks.


A secret unfurling is before my soul,

Sweet whispers of strength call me to.

Soon solstice will pass and I'm thrust at my goal,

My body like oceans, will wave, curving true.


I'm tempted and thankful and wait with my own,

Time passes and flies, but still crawls.

My face set against, leans on coolness of stone,

My lips fluid moans recompense.


New life floats inside, small being glowing green,

The aura pulses strong and immense,

Very soon this universe welcomes body unseen,

Newborn babe you will quicken; emerge.


Beat strongly my heart, this adventure's begun,

Words will flow, music strains to the ear.

Only love and the moon cycle sing to the sun,

First of all, enter here without fear.


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

To Write By Candlelight:

   "Why do I have these dreams about my friends?" I wondered to myself, absent-mindedly pouring the still fairly hot kettle over the dregs in the filter.

Watching the remains of cinnamon and coffee swirl together I took a deep breath. The oils dancing on the sides and top of the cone, I felt... wistful and slightly troubled.

Lately, I'd been dreaming about a certain friend in particular; someone whom I'd seen fairly recently, but not gotten the chance to talk and catch up with. 

This person has a habit of being quiet; only not around me.

This person has a habit of saving smiles; but not around me.

This person can seem reserved to most people; not with me.

This person and I have a history - a comfortable one that we've worked hard to maintain as friends.

I bear this person no ill will, but love and care about them. 

I have known this person since I was about fifteen, and usually we communicate pretty well.

I am worried about this person because in my dreams, the energy that keeps popping up is slightly sad or wistful, distant and resigned --- and it's NOT MY ENERGY. Perhaps it's not theirs either --- maybe it belongs to someone around them...

       Lighting a small beeswax tea light and placing it in my red candle mug, I sipped my less than half a cup of weak coffee and sank into a kitchen chair, biting my lower lip.

       "I'll write a quick e-mail... I don't feel like texting at 5:00 A.M," I whispered to nobody in the kitchen.


I've always had energetic connections to the people I'm close too --- when someone pops into my awareness, consciousness or dreams (randomly into my head at all really) I reach out to them.

I think the universe has something to do with these seemingly sporadic reminders to either stay in touch, or that someone needs to know that they're loved and cared about.

It doesn't always happen right at the moment that my loved ones need me; but sometimes I reach out at the exact moment when someone's having a wonderful or difficult time and I get to share the love with them.

If you're worried about someone, or simply thinking of them at all; go TELL them you care about them!

Life is too short not to do so. 

Besides, it doesn't matter whether they're having an amazingly good time in their life, or if they're down in the dumps or plain old bored with mediocrity... knowing someone loves you makes EVERY THING BETTER, NO MATTER WHAT!

To all my loved ones who aren't close by me at the moment: I LOVE YOU!

 Please, don't ever forget this simple truth.


Thursday, August 22, 2013

Errant Errands...

A Haiku for YOU:

Errant errands now,

Don't want to go at all now!

Sigh; it must be done.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Weird Dreams and Worries...

Meanwhile.... back in the kitchen...
   "I keep having strange dreams," I murmured over my finger of coffee. I sipped it as one would a fine scotch.

        "Darlin', I hate to break it to you, but you've always had crazy dreams," J said smiling, his eyes teasing me over his own steaming and full cup.

Coffee. Black. Hot.

That's what we drink in the morning. I have a few sips and normally don't finish my finger's worth, because I don't want my baby to be born addicted to caffeine or too small, or jittery or whatever the horrendous findings of coffee and pregnant women studies have concluded.

However, I am also human and fallible; therefore I like to have a few sips in the morning. Among it being one of my comforts (tea another --- naturally decaffeinated of course) it is also delicious and helps keep things... ahem... moving during pregnancy.

I am beginning to tire again. Things are not as difficult as they were during the beginning of my pregnancy and the stupid progesterone, which I never needed, nor should have been on that wacked out my hormonal levels, but here I am beginning the third trimester (!!!) and finding that things are difficult in another way.

My emotions have continued to swing all over the place. I'm not crying as much now (THANK GOODNESS) but I'm once again fighting the overwhelming urge I have to nap during the day again.

I'm not sure why I don't like the idea of it, but I don't. Normally, when I take naps it's because I'm ill or on vacation. Generally sleeping for a couple to a few hours during daylight means that when it's time to go to bed at 8:30 PM (because we wake up at 4:30 AM) I cannot sleep.

I've been "sick," during my whole pregnancy, which basically means, I have puked from day to day and time to time; sometimes more than other times and occasionally I have a day (the day before yesterday) where I am vomit-free (HOORAY!).

I am used to this by now. It's not upsetting any more (especially since it's a HUGE change from feeling sick twenty-four hours a day; seven days a week).

The specialist doctor who works with my midwife; we'll call him Doc Once-ler (like the character in Dr. Seuss, because he's been that in my head since I met him) just tells me calmly that "a sick Mom means a healthy baby," and not to worry about it because I seem to be "simply very sensitive to the hormonal shifts of pregnancy," meaning that as the baby grows and my levels change throughout the day, my body notices and I barf.

He's fabulous. So is my midwife. Seriously, I'm REALLY THANKFUL that they're my team for this pregnancy.

Mostly lately though, I find myself to be exceedingly mentally exhausted.

There are all these questions:

  • Do we really need that _____ on the baby list of "crap that's essential,"?
  • What if _____ happens?
  • Where are we going to put the baby clothes I just washed in our tiny house with tiny closets which are full?
  • A _____ can't fit in the _____ , but do we need one?
  • It seems as though the baby has shifted and it feels weird, is it _____?
  • We got _____ and it's ugly and probably won't _____ anyway, so I'm going to donate it.
  • I've been eating mostly fruit, oatmeal bread, some cheese, one serving of protein and 2 luna bars with green smoothies each day, am I _____ up my kid?
  • I've had a week and a half off from work, are my clients _____?
  • We need to _____ the _____ before the baby comes and we haven't done it yet!
  • We still need to buy _____ for the birth and we haven't yet.
  • I feel the urge to buy _____  to have it ready for _____, but we agreed not to spend right now.

Plus several more ridiculous thoughts that seem crazy to me-- the other night I realized I was lying in bed awake waiting to hear the front door window break and for the cats to be shot or injured. 


Also, I MUST currently have the kitchen counters, sinks and stove CLEAN. Always

Why? It makes no sense. 

Everyone tells me I'm "nesting," which is probably true-- if we had all the designated space finished for this baby, I'd have everything folded and put away, but we don't know how we're going to store things yet because we live with tiny closets and a tiny bathroom and high ceilings but tiny bedroom footprints. 

Everything will work out and be organized and fine; I know this.

I try not to assign meaning to everything and just take things one moment at a time.

My partner has been AMAZING (as usual) but things are getting to him too -- cranky pants have been OUT lately. 

We've laughed about a lot of things and we'll keep laughing and surviving and saying "oh, isn't life funny and interesting," to one another until this kid arrives.

THEN the REAL difficulties and joys and OHMYGOSHWE'REREALLYPARENTSNOW begins.

Please, oh please, let me make it to that with my sense of humour about myself intact.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Crescent Moon Winks in the Waking Dawn...

The crescent moon winks in the waking dawn,
as I look up and behold her.

The lamp posts glow with a golden sheen,
and my footsteps ring below here.

The air is cool and pleasant now,
with a blue-tinged pink arising.

To close one's eyes and breathe in slowly,
the ribs expansion surprising.

There's a misty element to the streets,
and the morning dew's still settled.

I imagine up an ocean breeze,
though I'm landlocked and slightly nettled.

So much change to come, much more change has passed, 
I am living and breathing and holding fast,
I can feel the wind, as it shifts on high,
'There is so much more to learn,' it sighs,
Just remember this, if you don't all else;
The key to all things is: 
To know oneself.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Summer Sundries...

First, the good and delightful bits:

I have made a vegetarian vegetable pot pie, two batches of vegan chocolate-orange cupcakes with ganache and vegan chocolate-chip banana muffins this week.

I have still been feeling up and down throughout each day.  Loss of appetite, headaches and throwing up have deterred me from my morning walk and my yoga.

I have been dancing, but I have to be careful there too because it feels so good and it's so easy to over-do.

Baking early in the morning or late at night when I can't sleep seems to help me not feel so damned helpless all the time.

Too bad I can't do massage sessions at 5:00 AM or 10:00 PM on the random days that I feel okay a those times.

Now for the RANT. If you don't want to hear a cranky rant about dandelions, STOP reading NOW.


I have not currently been sleeping well.  As a result, I am more grumpy and less able to deal with my crazy pregnant self.

I have always dealt with insomnia, but lately even my dreams are disrupting my slumber. This is one of the FEW reasons that I have no patience.

Lately, I have been losing patience with my lovely City. Firstly, there is an intersection near my house, which is a two way stop -- people RUN this stop-sign all the time. It's absolutely ridiculous. It should be a four way stop, or a G.D. roundabout since people refuse to obey traffic laws and don't realize that the CROSS street HAS TO STOP to the street that parallels MAIN street.

Secondly, the cross-walks down-town are NOT marked with blinking lights as they are in Boulder when there's a median dividing two way traffic (effectively making one street into TWO one-ways). There is a large median, huge trees and awnings/city posters in the way of visibility and the yield signs do NOTHING to help warn drivers that there could be pedestrians crossing from either side of the street.

However, our city would rather send condescending women in polo shirts around to lecture people about DANDELIONS than deal with these safety issues.

Speaking as a person who is ALLERGIC to grass, I STILL find it LUDICROUS that the city is PAYING someone to go around and measure, comment or LECTURE about this silly ordinance than to use their funding to correct BLATANTLY OBVIOUS SAFETY ISSUES.

We plan to cover our entire lawn with wood chips and either a raised bed or a mossy ground cover. That has been in the works.

I completely admit that we have a few dandelions growing in our front yard. You know what else I have to do almost every day? PICK UP OTHER PEOPLE'S GARBAGE. In MY yard!

All I can say is, I promise to take BETTER care of my dandelions if the city would STOP paying CRANKY, SNOOTY WOMEN to lecture about them.

I completely understand the "noxious weed," issue. Weeds are ugly and a P.I.T.A. They spread and are hard to get rid of sometimes -- crab-grass, goat heads, etc. Those can actually do a bit of damage.

 However,  dandelions??!

Lots of people EAT dandelions in salad --- are they REALLY such a nuisance? Besides, it's MY yard and even though the city claims it's their property (which legally, I'm sure it is) if I'm the one paying for it, then I am of the opinion that a REQUEST can respectively be made BEFORE someone who has a stupid amount of time on their hands (they're counting or measuring weeds for goodness' sake) comes to LECTURE me about it.

I listened politely. I am almost always polite.

I accept that I purchased my house within the city limits; thereby agreeing to maintain it in a proper manner.

However, I REFUSE to be lectured about the GODDAMN dangers of an edible plant, when half the time I go outside my house an UNAUTHORIZED vehicle has blocked me in, or obstructed my view so that I cannot leave my driveway safely, AND when every time I drive to a certain intersection I am NEARLY KILLED because some IDIOT is running a STOP SIGN.

DON'T talk to me about DANDELIONS!

We don't have crab-grass or friggin' POISONOUS TOXINS that could be KILLING PEOPLE in our front yard at least!

Last year, apparently someone from the city CLAIMED they measured the dandelions in our yard and sent us a NOTICE about it. Said they were over a FOOT tall. I went out and measured the THREE tiny plants --- NONE of which were above 5 inches tall. I pulled them out --- we always seem to be a day behind each other, the city and I....

THIS time, we have apparently TOO MANY dandelions. Oh they're not too tall, but there are TOO MANY.

There are perhaps seven small stems out there.


Maybe I'll just make a giant MUD PUDDLE SWIMMING POOL in our front yard? MAYBE I'll pave it the heck over and make it RAISED PRIVATE PARKING!


Hot chocolate, cider, coffee and pastries in the winter; lemonade, iced tea, sodas and sorbet in the summer!

I wrote an e-mail to the city about how they're "spending my tax dollars," on condescending people lecturing on foot, when there are greater "life-threatening issues," to deal with.

However, I was polite, yet indignant and irritated.

Well, what are elected officials for if not to read letters from concerned citizens? I'm not saying everyone agrees with me.

I AM pregnant though, and much more likely to have a bitchy reaction than I usually would.

We'll see what they write back.

End of Rant...

Maybe next year I'll plant FIDDLEHEAD FERNS and DANDELIONS and INSIST that to destroy them would be tantamount to razing my GARDEN to the ground! HA!

Thursday, June 20, 2013

The bestest of dinners...

Some days it's too warm to turn on the oven,

Sitting and sweating as thermostats rise,

Sometimes it's hard just to click on the burner,

Watching the blue flames that dance 'fore my eyes.

Lately I've preheat 350 and left it,

Walked from the kitchen with steps quick and fast,

I sat with a book on the living room sofa,

Thinking, "I'll prep it," avoiding the blast.

Drip golden olive oil into the glass,

Spread it around so it coats every spot,

In go the pasta; sauce; water and veggies,

Now it's all ready and shoved in the hot.

Soon the delicious smell wafts through the house,

Soon I will pull it out, set it to cool.

Thickening sauce, tender noodles and veggies,

Each bite well-balanced and making us drool.

It's lazy and tasty; the easiest thing

How can one not want to munch all the time?

Aromas of roasting veggies; so very "summer,"

Chewing it slowly; life can be sublime.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Note to Self...

Dear Self,

I know you've been frustrated lately -- having no patience with others or yourself is a dangerous situation to be in.

I hope that you are working on self-love again and acknowledging the fact that you're "merely human," despite your energetic/emotional sensitivities. 

Remember what's written on your mirror? The positive affirmations? Go check those out again.

I understand that lately, answering and returning phone calls is difficult; frankly, I think you know that you're not a great phone person in the sense that the ringing makes you anxious and having to "call back," is a P.I.T.A. for you --- you do much better with letters and e-mails.

 It's difficult because many of your friends understand this, but many again do not--- and they are better at phone conversing timing than you are. That's okay; you may simply need to remind them that you dislike the phone with a few exceptions (they know who they are ;-)!

I know that this phone anxiety and irritation doesn't apply to friends/family that you've not spoken to in a while; that's super! 

Just make sure that for the others, you let people know via some other response (e-mail, letter, Facebook, etc.) that it's not that you feel disinclined to catch-up with their lives, it's rather the form of communication! 

Try sending an e-mail/letter instead of a returned phone call. It's perfectly OKAY to be an auditory person who gets over-stimulated/exhausted by the phone. 

I also understand that most of your friends know your emergency phone sequence -- if you get two or three calls in consecutive sequence, it means an emergency --- as in they need to talk IMMEDIATELY. 

The problem arises when certain people don't fully comprehend what constitutes a TRUE emergency --- problems of the "same issue," that occur repeatedly are NOT an emergency any more unless a large affecting shift has occurred. 

Don't feel guilty about your irritation when these people call twice and you feel that you know it's a "crying wolf," situation.

You're a fabulous letter writer and a great friend-- but you need your space and time to respond well too! 

The reason folks like calling you is because of your compassionate, warm, understanding and genuine nature. 

You are fairly good at curbing or refraining from judgement; whatever may be privately going on for you, you comprehend that your role is not to judge other people during times of crisis-- which is great! 

You also tend to have good reflexively reactive skills to soothe and aid in the moment -- strengths! Again, people enjoy speaking with you and the phone brings you closer when they're far away. :-D

However, being discriminating with your time is an IMPORTANT thing to do for yourself, especially considering that you're *ahem* in a delicate way.

Nothing is more important right now than the health of your body, mind and soul for the little one who is growing every day. 

It is NOT selfish to let your cell go to voicemail, rather than anxiously abandon whatever it is you're doing to "be there," for other people. 

Remember, your close friends know you quite well and will not be offended if you call them back later (if it constitutes a true emergency) or send them an e-mail when you're not occupied with the trials/tasks of your own life. 

It's terribly kitsch to say, but put your OWN oxygen mask on before assisting others... or you may end up passed out, drooling on the floor with a low pulse and brain-damage.  ;-).

I have also noticed lately that you seem to be having trouble shielding yourself from the emotions of others; listen to me little empath, you're pregnant --- you're sharing, creating and giving more energy than you ever have in your life and that means that there's less left over for the meditative practices that are second nature to protect yourself.

Take deep breaths and take MORE BREAKS if you need to from the energy of others! If you find yourself growing irritated and pissy, it's allowable to simply be excused from the affecting persons or people. 

You have the best REASON (note, I didn't say excuse) to do so: the baby. 

As with all wonderful little parasites from heaven that affect the woman who's their host body: the baby's needs come parallel or at times overtake your own. There is no shame in cutting back while dealing with all of the changes in your body -- the physical being that you're SHARING at this moment.

All your friends, family, clients and colleagues completely understand. They will wait for you, support you and be there when you come back or have more time available. Trust me.

All right, I've talked my own ear off. 

Remember: I love you too.

~ Love


Wednesday, June 5, 2013

On the Edge and Teeter-Tottering...

My heart sits on the edge, 
Leaning slightly back and forth with every beat,
Am I going to fall?

I feel the edge's sharpness; a knife's gleaming quality,
Beneath my soft heart's exterior,
If it beats too strongly, will I be cut?

They say "Don't look down,"
When one is on the edge,
What if I must?

Behind my eyes, my soul is burning,
Brightly lit for all to see,
Something deep inside me stirring,
Reaching out from within me,

Pain is crinkling all my edges,
Loss is staining them with age,
These things crack because they're past,
Now I live beyond the sage.

Old familiar things are crawling,
Near the edge I balance on,
I'll sit still with breath and calling,
My life's blood to keep me strong.

Teeter-totter, my heart shifts,
Back and forth and back again,
Balanced forever?

My hands are warm and glowing,
Heating energy, showing light,
Can I help myself?

I will fall, I know it,
Determined, I'll see the hope above and below,
I'll land on love.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Cool, Clean and Under the Clouds...

We woke at 5:00 AM, had our snuggle time on the swing, J left.

I re-entered the house to put the dishes away, start a load of laundry, empty the dryer, clean the kitchen counters, read a chapter, return e-mails...

Chores done, I poured myself a second (larger) cup of tea with organic almond milk and stepped outside.

The air was crisp and clear this morning.

6:26 AM: Time to walk.


If I close my eyes, I can hear the symphony of birds, bees, insects, water, wind, grass... 

If I open my heart, I can feel the energy singing through my veins, my blood whooshing with every beat...

If I close my thoughts, all I notice is my breath, flowing in and out seamlessly from the atmosphere to my lungs...

If I open my hands I can feel the fluid-like air trickling between my fingers and around my body...

If I close myself, I can feel my chest tighten and ache with worry...

If I open my love, I can feel the warmth in my belly rise up to meet the warmth of my heart in my ribs...

If I open and close my energy I can feel the change it causes in my center and sphere, the affect it has on everything I touch, think, speak or act upon.


Who knows what lies ahead for this world of ours?
Who else can feel the shifts in the energy of the universe so minutely?

How many changes both negative and positive are singing a wake-up call?
How will we realize that the time is now?

When will our actions speak louder than our words to save this planet?
When will we learn that we cannot fight nature; we are part of it?

What will be the deciding factor to light the fires within our individual souls?
What will be the ultimate cost of the mistakes and waiting?

Where have we come from to misunderstand ourselves?
Where are we going to gain further truth of the universe?

Why are the ideas that can help so simple and yet, so difficult to implement for all?
Why can't we all make an effort to understand each other and get along?

Are these things possible?


6:59 AM: Time to stop wondering.


Love is my reason,
           my quest,
              my hope,
                my insight,
                    my purpose,
                        my message,
                          my power.




Monday, June 3, 2013

A Walk Thwarted...

The alarm went off as usual...

            "Goood morning!" it sang to us.

Next to me, J stirred and exhaled a deep sigh.

We both felt mostly used to the new schedule.

The work schedule requiring him to wake at 4:30 AM, or 4:45 AM so that he could leave for work between 5:00 and 5:10 AM and arrive in Denver on time.

Some mornings though, are proving more difficult than others.

He rolled out of bed as I snuggled deeper into the lumpy fluff of our mattress and was promptly sunk into the center of the bed... the hole which we both fought not to fall into during the night.

"I'm gonna', take five more minutes," I murmured to him.

"Okay Darlin'. You don't have to get up, you know," he said soothingly.

"Yes I do. I want our porch time," I replied groggily.

"Okay," he said quietly, pulling on his work clothes before popping in to brush his teeth.

I slipped back into the gray, warm, blanket of nothingness.

Shhhhuunk, SLAP!

The sound of the icebox door popping closed roused me from my doze.

I blew out some air with effort and rolling around like a turtle on its back, I managed to swing my legs over the depths of our bed which is lumpy and sags in the center.

Our mattress is over 15 years old. Most mattresses only last about 10 years.

 It's a pillow top that I bought on sale in college, it had been the floor model of a discontinued mattress. A floor model for 5 years, which is why I got such a great deal at the time.

The mattress tried to pull my butt back into its folds as I waggled my legs a bit, trying to get my toes to the floor.

Being pregnant, my once tiny waist (no matter my overall weight fluctuation) has disappeared and now a soccer ball has taken up residence.

I padded into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then pulled on a plaid flannel shirt and sweatpants in the dark of our bedroom.

Opening the door into the kitchen, the hinges creaked loudly.

The tiny light over the sink was on and the kitties were munching their breakfast happily in the small fading edges of its pool of yellow.

The rest of the house was still quite dark.

The tea kettle glowed - bone coloured with  blue flames dancing on low beneath its ceramic belly.

I poured myself a cup of decaffeinated Lady Grey tea and added a dollop of Almond milk; not waiting for the bag to steep.

I grabbed a sweatshirt from the rack, and eased open the front door, pushing the red wooden screen open with my foot as I pulled the heavy old wooden one closed behind me.

J was sitting on the porch swing; steam rising from the cup of black coffee between his palms, his head tilted back and his eyes closed, he had a faint, yet tired smile on his lips.

Feeling a little light-headed, I took a deep breath of the delightfully cool morning air.

 It was still inky and dark outside; the freshness of the morning evoking a feeling of clouds and rain.

The trees in our front yard were just barely beginning to show their crooked outlines against the stark backlit glow; beginning sunrise in the sky.

I exhaled and stepped over to the swing. Without opening his eyes J stopped the gentle rocking with his foot as I snuggled down next to him, laying my head on his shoulder.

"I'm tired," I said yawning.

"You don't need to get up with me," he said, sipping his coffee.

"I don't mind getting up early. Besides, once I'm awake, I'm up for at least an hour," I said, continuing with, "I just mean I didn't sleep well last night. I couldn't get comfortable."

"I know what you mean. It was strange last night, I couldn't fall asleep," he offered.

"I'm anxious about getting a new bed," I said.

"I know. It feels like a big deal," he murmured.

"Our bed is old and past its expiration date, but... it's a lot of change," I whispered.

"Yes it is, but I think it will be worth it for us both to be comfortable. Besides, the one we're looking at lasts 20 years at least, right?" he said smiling.

After a few moments, he finished his coffee and stood up, stretching his long arms high.

"All right Darlin', I gotta' go," he said, pulling me up off the swing into a hug.

A warm kiss and then he was off to work.

I watched him pull out of the driveway and gently accelerate down the street.

Picking up our cups, I slipped back inside the house, leaning against the door to shut it behind me, feeling the screen door slam outside.

I rinsed our cups in the sink and then leaned back, bracing myself against it and arching my spine.

Suddenly, I felt a headache coming on. The edges of it were inching around my ears and the nape of my neck, buzzing behind my eyes and temples unpleasantly.

With a frustrated sigh, I walked back into the living room and sank on to our big green couch; wrapping the three generations quilt around me.

Propping my head against the round sofa arm, I closed my eyes.

No morning walk today.


Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Thunderstorms, Strange Orange Flowers.... The Ascent of Summer...

Behind our house, grow orange flowers.

Waving; glistening, blue from rain.

Thunder causes them to shiver, 

Lightening, illuminates the train.

The whistle sounds despite the torrent,

Muffled by the water's path.

I am walking on the sidewalk, 

In the mist of morning's math.

Are they poppies? Bright green stalks.

They highlight our back cement.

The one bright spot in all the alley,

Marks our house, for we're content.

Soon will come the heat of summer,

Raging, bursting, bright and warm.

Spring is fading fast and faster,

Trees are budding with this storm.

I will long for rainstorms' whisper,

I will thirst for thunder's boom.

My heart burns for lightening's flash,

When hiding from the sun, in rooms.

Fans will dance with undulation,

Slow; their breath across our skin.

Iced tea sweats in glasses warming,

Brewed with sunshine, ice cubes thin.

We shall swim in lakes and rivers,

Beer and wine, tequila too.

I'll not drink, but taste the mint,

Which bites my water glass full through.

All too soon the evening's crickets,

Singing deep in trees and grass,

Will foretell of wind and fire,

Leaping, to repeat the past.

Ripe the fruit of lazy summer,

Sweet the taste of morning dew.

Sweat and freckles, books and movies,

All delivered right to you.

Then the evenings' mud will harden,

Cold and solid; black and thick.

Autumn comes; it slips right in,

Behind your thoughts; a worthy trick.

I shall miss the summer showers,

Wearing next to nothing: skin.

Fall, my favorite winds my hours,

For now, the rain begins again.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

In Defense of my Defense...

I find myself frequently running low on patience these days.

Normally, I consider myself to be a very patient person (at least for all outward appearances) because I consider that to be a trait of basic, common decency.

Being pregnant, all my "zen," has gone out the window.

I find myself talking out loud in the car... to no one.

Well, really, I am conversing with the driver who just cut someone off--
-- or nearly hit me by ignoring a protected arrow turning--
--- or who ran a stop-sign to my left--
--or who is tailgating myself or someone near me.

I also find that my passion is leaking out of me all the time!

Small things that would normally be the cause of a gentle discussion and frank exchange of ideas, set me up on a vehement soap box.

Most recently in defense of vegan and vegetarianism.

I find that I am less able to let things go -- I have to open my mouth. :-P


I was never so easily offended as I am now.

Noises, comments, worries... all of these things are parading around my consciousness.

The good news is, I have not tossed my cookies today -- without anti-nausea herbal help.
That's certainly a milestone.

The bad, or not "bad," so much as slightly disheartening bit, is that emotions (both my own and those of others) seem to affect me more than usual.

I thought I'd done my homework on this, but sharing a body with a tiny new life has spread my energies thin, and to be honest, I find myself becoming upset over ridiculous things that would never bother me normally.

I keep trying to envision "water off a whale's back," and to ground myself, but though I dig my bare feet deeply into the mud of the earth and my soul, I cannot seem to find my equilibrium.

"Oh Love, this is completely normal. Haven't you heard that pregnant women are crazy and hormonal and cry all the time?"

Well, yes. I have heard that. I will also admit, that I cry particularly quickly when I see cute things, like puppies.

However, while I am used to feeling passionately and deeply, I am not used to feeling constantly insecure and cranky all. The. Time.

Hopefully, this will pass.

Well, it has to.

In other news: I still love the smell that sits between the pages of books, as well as the smell of my fingers after playing my guitar.

At least I have some comforting things left. ;-)

Happy May Everybody.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

May the 4th Be With You...


  I jerked awake. 

An alarm had been going off in my dream... I was making lavender caramels for my mother and then a huge buzzer... wait, no... that was J's phone. Hastily I grabbed it, feeling him stir next to me.

"Honey, you got a call," I mumbled and handed him the phone.

"Mmmmph. I don't know this number."

"It's 1:45 AM," I said with a sigh, "Did they leave a message?"

"Nope," he replied, setting his phone on his bedside table. 

He snuggled up to me with a groan, and we tried to go back to sleep. I felt so uncomfortable, hot and cold... my pulse pounding in my ears. 

Groggily, and with a stuffy nose, I managed to slip back into the gray depths of dreams.



Mom smiled at me as the doorbell's sonorous tones echoed into the kitchen. 

"Good morning. She's only got the one bag. Thank you," I said to the shuttle driver as he opened the screen door, the springs groaned slightly.

"Well Honey, I'm so glad I was able to come. I'll ring you from the airport. Love you," she said quietly smiling. We hugged.

"Love you too Mom. Thank you for everything, we really appreciated your coming."

With a smile, she stepped out on to the porch, following the driver to the big blue van. 

Helping her up the step, he threw her suitcase in the back and then puttered off while I waved goodbye.

Breathing in the crisp cool air which was already beginning to sparkle with sunshine, I felt a little tired. 

I decided to go for a walk. 

I made it two blocks and had to turn around because of the blinding sunshine and the noisy, belching trucks and buses. 

Yes, I was a pansy this morning.

I am also quite certain that I looked silly, seeing as I had donned a summer dress; decided it was too cold for just that, and pulled on scrub pants and a red sweatshirt. 

The result was that my aqua skirt stuck out like a tutu under my t-shirt and hoodie, fluffed over my brown pants. 

The morning air was nice, but not quite delicious...  traces of exhaust mixing in with the smells of spring mud and budding plants.

This morning I was reminded of spring in Oklahoma: Early mornings when the dew from the thunderstorm the night before is still misty, and the smell of sprinklers and moist clay mix with the smell of cool shale in the shade and wet concrete. 

In Vermont, spring smells like mud, cows and melting snow. 

When I think of spring, I largely choose to remember Oklahoma as a kid.

 I remember "helping," my father in the garden and flower beds, getting more peat moss on my person that in the topsoil. 

I remember the brilliant hue of marigolds and their spicy smell. The purple and yellow pansies, nodding in the sunshine. Daffodils and tulips, springy and with bright green stems waving in the light breeze.

I long for spring and summer thunderstorms, for lightening and the cool, wet, slick smell of rain. For the gray and purple afternoons that seep lazily into the night; the hush of evening silenced by the calm and quiet before the storm. 

The prologue to the rain, and the booming thunder and flashing quickening. 
Just before the lights go out and the electricity blinks and stays off, and the beeswax candles come out and light faces with their warm and soothing glow.

Peanut butter and jelly, or pimento cheese sandwiches with iced tea and oatmeal cookies for dinner. 

Spring rushes into summer.....

Lemonade and heat. Sun baking the black tar asphalt and the waves of thermals visible in the roads... the grasses crunching and dry.

The longing for more rains, rains that will save the plains, begins. 

I'm not truly convinced that CO really knows what drought means... beyond fire that is. 

We know fire in CO.

I mean droughts that happen every, single year. Droughts that make families weep, not because of evacuation, which is terrifying in and of itself, but tears shed because the crops are dying. Financial ruin may not be far behind. 

My thoughts will be in the plains and the mountains this summer... I will always do dances...

For rain.

Now, however, spring has finally arrived.

Unless it snows again.

Which I cannot say will make me sad... not really. 

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Oh How The Wind Blows...

The dark red screen door keeps banging against the deep golden brown wood of our front door.

 Today is blustery and cold, but the sun is out and shining.

All the snow from the dusting of last week has melted, and the air has a clean, earthy, wet smell that I associate with spring.

Easter has come and gone, and still, we have had more snow. :-)

I am pregnant.

I have been quite ill due to a disagreement between my specialist and my gynecologist involving supplementation which turned out to be completely unnecessary.


Not simply morning sickness, but constant nausea and 24-Hour vomiting, mood swings, weeping, aches, pains and feelings of being entirely overwhelmed and helpless while worrying whether what I'm doing is for the baby's own good.... the end is in sight.

Life is funny.

We got married in February, and pregnant on the first try (after thinking that it might take us a while to conceive). I should have known (and I did really, deeply down) that since we chart, we had more information than most. Thank the universe that we don't have to use hormonal birth control! Now we've proven to ourselves that the fertility awareness method (NOT to be confused with the ridiculous "rhythm method") works for birth control AND getting pregnant. At least for us it does.

Oh, information --- it's all in how you use it.

 School House Rock (unpack your ADJECTIIIIVES!) had it right with the phrase:

"Knowledge is Power."

The screen door keeps banging gently...

 I am reminded of the winds that come and go...
The airs and breezes that swiftly slip and twirl across the lands, and meadows...
Which glide up and encircle the mountains, whistle through the trees in the forests... whip through basins and valleys and which skim along the skin of the water...

The future cannot truly be told; not for certain. Even the mystics living alone in caves, or the wise people of the tribes, the soothsayers and gypsies and madams of the world cannot certainly read tea leaves, signs, palms or crystal balls... the reason for this is as follows:

Only one possibility is clear to one searching person at any given time, while truly infinite possibilities coexist simultaneously in every sphere of existence.

Or so I choose to think, being a sensitive myself...

To me, it is also important never to take life for granted.

Things are never what they seem, unless confirmed by the resonance of the heart -- the surety of the gut feeling or the confidence of the input and analysis of the brain when connected with the entire spirit.

My soul is the same and yet different... and I feel as though I am part of the wind;
Flying, flitting all over the place,
Whispering and seeking information, but never hearing a complete answer.
All is not lost, all is somehow found... but not entirely understood.

Such is life, and so is the wind.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Updates and Such...

On February 14th, 2013, J and I wed.

We changed all the "man and wife," bits to "partners for life."

We had a reading about how love is akin to owning a dog.

The tiny ceremony was family only and we forego-ed the traditional church part by making a circle of loving people in the living room of our house.

Four dear friends/relatives decorated our house in valentine's-y style.

My dad's best friend sang "In My Life," by The Beatles accompanied by his acoustic guitar.

My parents both walked me down the aisle and later gave touching and funny speeches at our reception.

An e.e. cummings poem, "I Carry Your Heart," was shared.

Everyone in the room pronounced us married in unison.

Then we ate pie with prosecco and sparkling cider.

We then had a vegan luncheon at my favorite restaurant.

For J, we had BBQ for dinner at his stepmom's house, followed by dancing.

I serenaded J with Little Milton's "We're Gonna' Make It," and we ate vegan wedding cake.

My best friend did her Maid of Honor speech which included her passing "the honor of being best friend," to my new husband,  fairy houses we built when we were 11, and a video of friends from all over the globe sending well wishes and waving --- I balled the whole time.



Another big thing has happened since all this.

It is both a surprise, but also something that we already knew was a possibility.

I am not quite ready to share it.

Life is so simple, yet so complicated.

Therefore, I leave you with the lyrics of Little Milton, because this song spoke to me so much, that I sang it to J at our wedding:

We may not have a cent to pay the rent,
But we're gonna make it, I know we will.
We may have to eat beans every day,
But we're gonna make it, I know we will.

And if a job is hard to find,
And we have to stand in the welfare line,
I've got your love and you know you got mine,
So we're gonna make it, I know we will.
[ Lyrics from: ]
We may not have a home to call our own,
But we're gonna make it, I know we will.
We may have to fight hardships alone,
But we're gonna make it, I know we will.

'Cause togetherness brings peace of mind,
Oh, we can't stay down all of the time,
I've got your love and you know you got mine,
So we're gonna make it, I know we will.

Our car may be old, our two rooms cold,
But we're gonna make it, I know we will.
We may not can spare a roach a crumb,
But we're gonna make it, I know we will.

And if I have to carry 'round a sign,
Sayin' "Help the deaf, the dumb, and the blind,"
I've got your love and you know you got mine,
So we're gonna make it, I know we will.

We're gonna' make it,
We're gonna make it, baby
It might seem hard sometimes,
But don't worry, Darlin' Baby,
We're gonna keep on tryin'...



Christmas in March???!

I rolled over carefully with a small groan.

"Uuuuuugh.. ngghhmmmphhh," came a noise to my right.

"Good morning Honey," I said with a yawn.

J curled into a tighter ball from his fetal position, and mumbled something unintelligible into his pillow.

I couldn't blame him... here it was, 6:49 AM on a Sunday, and he'd got five minutes to get up and leave for work in the snow.

I could feel from the gentle, but expected draft in our house that it was cold this morning. I closed my eyes, and attempted unsuccessfully to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, I felt him lean into me and give me a warm squeeze before shifting his body out of bed.

I listened to his groggy steps thud into the kitchen; the sound of the coffee grinder (an awesome wedding present from my friends K and M) happily whirred away.

Soon it will smell like coffee... I thought to myself. I exhaled happily and drifted into that state of not awake, not asleep that is quite common in the early morning hours.

It had been the second night in a row that I hadn't woken up at 1:00, 2:45 and 3:45 AM-- thank goodness for small favors.

It was the umpteenth night however, that I  had had a weird dream sequence... lately, my dreams had been along the lines of sic-fi and western movies combined with historical fiction.

Last nights had to do with aliens, giant pancakes, overweight male dancers on the space station, and funk music.

I know, I know. Even weirder than usual.

Before I knew it, J had come in to kiss me goodbye and the giant dats were howling excitedly about their breakfast. Having realized that my body wasn't going to sleep anymore, I plodded out of bed and decided that yes, I would have a morning walk.

The weather lately has been amazing. I think that the clouds and the atmosphere are connected to me deeply, because I have consistently been waking up with Christmas music in my head and the yearning for WINTER and SNOW.

Wouldn't you know it, we've been having snow. This is the second dumping in two weeks and I'm LOVING IT because I keep wanting MORE December....

Fireplaces blazing, hot chocolate drinking, pumpkin pastries baking, twinkling colored lights covering, fir-tree-smelling WINTER... or more specifically, CHRISTMAS.

As I walked around this morning, it felt as though I was back at my folks' in Vermont - snow crunching under my feet, my nose not unpleasantly cold, my fingers aching around my mug of NOT hot beverage... J had taken and collected his AND my travel mugs in the last month-- I'm sure the pile in the car has become a mountain in the kitchen at his workplace.

He'd better bring them home clean soon is all I can say--- ceramic does NOT stay warm when it's 1 degree outside.

I noticed several things this morning.

The soft powder had frosted the trees, the eaves, the cars, the ground.... unusually for Colorado.

The sky was a light backlit gray; the sun a huge bleary yellow-whitish ball glowing large and too bright against the tree branches outlined against the sky.

The fresh clean smell of ice, the barely there wind caressing my face, with my ears toasty within the confines of my hood...

It felt so good outside this morning.

Upon my return home, I thought to myself: Perhaps I'll listen to Christmas music today. 

I'm not sure why that's okay with me... usually, I'm not an out-of-season-person... but I must admit that fall is my favorite, winter a perfect second, then spring and lastly summer.

Today though, I've received my wish of snow, and it's supposed to snow more.
So, today will be a day of reading, listening to music, watching musicals and drinking hot beverages while snuggled up.

Never mind that it's almost Easter.

Happy Sunday.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

It's February 6th and the 50th Entry!

January was a month of business.

Activities filled up the sphere.

The plans from November's engagement, carried over the months from last year.

We will marry this Valentine's special.

There is still much to do; this I fear.

At the end of the day, the only thing I can say is "we've married," and shout out with cheer!


January escaped my blog.

I'm not sure HOW the fiendish month which begats the year got away, but flee it did from my pen.

I have entries to write about Christmas, food allergy treatments, rehearsal frustrations, car sale plans, family engagements, book updates, decorating schemes and several cake trial entries--- the best of which I made a few days ago: Red Wine Red Velvet, but with a twist -- vegan and gluten free--- and I shall get to them.

First things first, though.

Somethings I try my best to keep in mind (and occasionally fail at doing so):

1) Never let anyone use your brain to sway your heart from what you know is the right thing for you to do.

2) Time passes: Deadlines will approach with a groan and leave with a moan whether you meet them or not.

3) The end of the world is exactly that: completely unrelated to any drama or malarky you may be currently experiencing.

4) Nobody's perfect. He's a nice guy, and probably the only one of his kind.

5) Take a break when you need it; the world will survive without you for the few moments it takes you to regain your sanity and composure.

6) If you fail colossally, don't worry -- failure is really SUCCESS! You wouldn't gain any new information if everything went perfectly all the time every time. Failure is what brings knowledge... besides, it's terribly human of you, and that's a lovely, lovely thing. :-)

7) Keep breathing.


More later, but that's all for now.


Tuesday, January 1, 2013

HAPPY NEW YEAR... and MerryChristmachannukwanzika... or Festivus ;-)


"Sometimes I want to sing in situations like this... do you think anyone would mind if I just started singing?" I whispered to J as we stood in front of the airline kiosk at the airport.

"I don't think they'd mind necessarily; in fact, they'd probably clap for you."

I smiled up at him and winked. We had arrived at the airport with plenty of time; despite people arriving every few minutes and running up with desperately flushed faces, to beg of the desk attendant, 

"Did we miss our flight to Boston?"

"No. We haven't even boarded your flight yet. The plane is being fixed."

"But the board behind you says---"

"I have no control over the marquis behind me.  All I can tell you is that you haven't missed your flight."

It didn't help matters that the board behind the desk was flashing "Boarding," for our gate... but to a different, nay rhyming city: Austin--since this was the next flight scheduled to depart from our gate: B-12..... which made me think simultaneously of vitamins and bingo....


Another late-comer runs up to the kiosk, looking bewildered. She is an elderly woman, of about 70 and she seems disgruntled.

"How may I help you?" states the blonde flight attendant cheerfully, if ruefully asks as she sees the woman.

"We have been waiting for half an hour and you've not given us any credible information about our flight, and I demand to know what is going on," said the blue-haired lady in slightly condescending tones.

"Ma'am, I know that you've been waiting and I appreciate your patience, but you know as much as I do about what's going on. They've not fixed the plane yet, though it is here."

"Well, I don't SEE it."

"That's because it's not at the gate. Please have patience."

"But you just said it's here,"

"It IS here. Here as in, at the airport. Being FIXED. In MAINTENANCE."

"Well, I---"

"Excuse me. What do I do?" An elderly gentleman steps up to the left of the lady, gently eclipsing her at the elbow, he leans over with a worried look at the desk attendant.

"Pardon me sir? Your plane is over there at Gate B-11 and it will be boarding in approximately 15 minutes, so if you'll just have a seat---"

"But I don't know what to DO! What do you mean boarding? How do I get on the plane?"

"Sir, do you see that small podium by the doors with the big numbers B-11 overhead?"


"Well, when you hear the announcement that your flight is boarding, you'll walk over to that podium, the attendant will take your ticket, and you'll get on the plane."

"But that's just a doorway."

"Right. We call it a gate. You'll walk through the gate doors down the ramp which leads to the plane door and then you'll take your seat, ok?"

"Oh. All right. Thank you. I'm just worried I guess. I'm 88 and I've never flown anywhere."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine sir, won't you have a ---"

"EXCUSE ME but I STILL don't see why we haven't boarded yet. We've been waiting here for---" the blue-haired lady would have no more of this being upstaged by an old codger who didn't know where he was.

"MA'AM, I have already explained that I have nothing more to tell you. You'll simply have to wait. Please have a seat and as soon as I know something, I'll inform you with an announcement," the blonde attendant finished resignedly. She looked exhausted. 

I admired her patience in dealing with the cranky customers and the line of people waiting to fly to Boston and Austin who kept running up every few minutes to re-read the faulty marquis and ask AGAIN if they had missed their flight, as well as the late-new-comers who were also asking that question.


Meanwhile, two children, toddlers, had begun exploring the holiday decorations at our gate. 

There was a gingerbread house which was fairly large, like a big doghouse. It had a crayon drawing of a gingerbread man in the tiny cut-out doorway, and real glass panes in the windows. It was edged in what must've been pom-poms, but now were only small tufts of fur randomly stuck to hardened crusty pools of dried hot glue.

The blond attendant explained that kids had been trying to eat the pom-poms, so she'd pulled all of them off.

Soon, the two kids discovered that if they shoved the gingerbread man aside, they could squeeze through the cut-out door. 

The small boy in particular, kept crawling inside the house despite his mother's half-serious protests. 

A couple next to us watching this parade of in-and-out-and-in-again discovered that the top of the house could be lifted-- so were the child to refuse to exit, the roof would be raised and his mother could scoop him out. 

Soon, a few other kiddos discovered that there was a nifty new hiding place and a parade to get inside the house began. 

The blond attendant, who'd been distracted by a phone call while this was going on, suddenly realized that the decorations were being played with.

"PLEASE DO NOT PLAY IN THE PLAYHOUSE! It's for DECORATION ONLY!" She then proceeded to give the small boy's mother a lecture about losing fingers, splinters and safety.

Two dads came to the rescue and evacuated all the kiddos... the little boy kept trying to wriggle from his mother's grasp to return to the gingerbread house. 

He was greatly disappointed when she denied him the chance.


We were eventually allowed to board our plane at 12:45 PM (it had been scheduled to leave at 10:30 AM).

We made it through the de-icing station to the runway; only to discover that we could not take off because our engines would not fire. So, we were towed back to our gate.

Then our pilot spoke with the mechanic, who suggested he shift into neutral and rev the engines... which he did. It was so cold out, that they wouldn't start right up.

Then we went back to be de-iced, and eventually we took off at 1:45 or so.


So, I last wrote on November 13th, 2012 and since then many things have happened:

1) A LOVELY Thanksgiving with my Mum, J, his brother and girlfriend and myself.

2) Second Thanksgiving at J's step-mom's house.

3) Mad rehearsing for our upcoming Bach concert.

4) A horrible flu that landed me in the ER.

5) A miraculous recovery in time to fly to my folks' home for Christmas.

6) A FABULOUS Christmas dinner, for which I made from scratch (all organic, gluten-free, corn and canola free and mostly vegan with butter being the only non-vegan ingredient in a few things because we ran out of coconut oil):

 2 green bean casseroles

 2 pumpkin pies

1 chocolate cream pie

1 huge bowl of mashed potatoes

1 huge amount of cranberry sauce

1 extra-large pan of stuffing

1 huge pan of candied yams

1 large sauce pan of vegan gravy

1 enormous batch of chocolate molasses caramels

1 enormous batch of chocolate chip cookies (some with pecans, some without)

1 big bowl of vegan whipped cream (coconut cream, vanilla, cinnamon and maple syrup)

7) A lovely low key New Year's Eve last night, which consisted of dinner, prosecco and reading Terry Pratchet's "Snuff," aloud while snuggling with our giant dats.

Don't forget to light your bayberry candles, eat your black-eyed peas and to run to the back door and kick the old year out, then race to the front door to welcome the new year in!