Mama said there'd be days like this...

I woke up at 4:30 thanks to Henry chasing Alice across the bed. Henry loves cats. He loves to lick them, lives for it I think, but at 4:30 AM when the cat is snuggled in the crook of my neck it isn't fun. And when he wakes up Ariel who is also on the bed and who is not a morning dog, it is twice as much not fun.

We had an ADD day today, my boy and I. Up early but managed to miss the bus. Got half-way to school and realized that we did not have Noah's binder. The binder is not so much a binder as it is a brief case-a 4 inch enclosed D-ring notebook that contains all his work for math, english/lit, and civics. We had to go back to get it.  He still made it to school on time.

I went to feed the animals which was supposed to be quick, but I got attacked by the punk rock rooster again.  I nearly killed it with the rake I held to defend myself, but as I prepared to strike, I realized that I would only hurt him and would get stuck caring for an injured bird that I hate (so on my list is sharpening the hoe, and next time it will be off with his head).

At work I realized that I had forgotten to pick up my insulin the day before, so I accomplished that task, only to leave it inside the work refrigerator when it was time to go.  I also left my phone charger and even went back for that, still forgetting the insulin in the fridge.

When I got home, Noah and I took Alice to get her stitches out since we didn't want to spend Saturday morning at the vet.  I forgot that Ariel needs a vaccine update, so we will be doing the vet thing again tomorrow anyways. Of course I asked about hours on Monday, but WOW-who forgot to tell me that Monday is Christmas Eve? My family celebrates together on Christmas eve at Mom and Stuart's and my brother and his family come, so there isn't a chance we can do Ariel's vaccines then, but Gloucester Veterinary Clinic is open 9-12 if anyone else needs them.

After Alice got her stitches out, Noah and I went to the office to get my insulin, so I am safe for the next month. On the way home, I remembered that I took the stitches out myself the last time we had cats spayed, so we didn't really need the trip at all (but they didn't charge and I didn't end up bleeding--so a good thing overall).

Noah recently decided he'd rather not take his medication for ADD. He says that school is more fun without it, and I am sure he is correct. I haven't told his teachers yet, but some of them know already. He still managed a 100 on the science test on genetics, so I guess it is hit and miss. Science and Civics, Hit. English and Pre-Algebra, Miss. He also lost homework for the first time ever. Pre-Algebra. His teacher gave him a reprieve.

I've been known to describe my house as ADDX2.  One of us needs medication or we just won't survive, so I guess it is time to talk to Dr. Conley about it (if I can remember to schedule an appointment, and even then, we've been meaning to have that discussion about my ADD for years).

In the middle of this wacky day, my boy blew me a kiss as I dropped him off at school and I got to celebrate  Christmas with coworkers at our annual office lunch.  My tiramisu was a hit. I interviewed 5 teens for the camp counselor positions, and loved them all. One of them had been  a first time camper the first year I directed camp. I remember walking the basketball court with him late at night. Camp wasn't what he expected. He wanted to leave. He reminded me so much of Noah. He made me smile. His mom apologized profusely for the late night calls and shenanigans, but I'd do it again in a heart beat. When he got the question today about how he deals with challenges--well, he told me all about Concerta (picture the biggest smile ever...he'd already told me that his greatest weakness was lack of focus). He otherwise had a great interview, and I'm excited that he will be at camp again. I'll have to remember to ask Dr. Conley about Concerta.

Noah and I ended the day with A Christmas Carol and popcorn, and the two lovable dogs snuggled with us on the sofa. Henry's version of snuggle means he sleeps over top of you and growls when you move.

Happy Friday

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, please put a penny in the old man's hat...another tune that plays in my head thanks to Grandma Carmen.  Her "Puttin' on the Ritz" singing turtle should have arrived by now, and is in all probability driving everyone crazy because she will forget she just turned it on as soon as it stops singing. Noah picked it out. I'm blameless.
I already got my Christmas present. My boy blew me a kiss as he walked into school this morning, apparently forgetting for a moment all rules of tween decorum.  I'm not sure which warmed my heart more-the kiss, or the nervous expression on his face as he looked around to make sure no one had seen. Twelve year old boys are all wonder and beautiful soul. I don't really care if he ever cleans his room, he's got my heart forever.
This year by a series of fortunate events I get to have Christmas dinner with my Noah.  We are looking forward to empanadas and an evening of good music and movies and fun. He may even teach me a few chords on the guitar.
And I am off for 17 days. It is starting to feel a lot like Christmas...

Merry Christmas and Peace to All,  K

On trampolines and ladders and aha, hmmmm...

I had an "aha" moment today on my may to work (which was longer than usual as I had a meeting to attend in Jamestown). As a rule, I'm not too fond of those kind of moments. Fortunately, they usually don't arrive during the commute...which is just barely long enough for me to remember to turn on NPR or blast whatever cd comes pre-loaded by my 12 year old aspiring rock-star. But it came nonetheless, unheralded by morning chaos or personal drama. It was an "aha" moment: I am the trampoline.

Not just any run-of-the-mill trampoline... I am the world's largest invisible trampoline--the trampoline--The very same one I've been struggling to build for Noah while I juggle the simultaneous construction of the ladder to the stars (and I'll deal with that another day, maybe). The trampoline--you know his "back bounce from", his "not get hurt from"... Aha, hmmmm.......

Aha, hmmmm = I've been giving too much attention to constructing the world's largest invisible trampoline!
Aha, hmmmm = The trampoline has more to do with me, than it ever did the boy (who really only needs the regular-old-me trampoline and not something extra-bouncy and invisible).
Aha, hmmmm = That big, extra fancy, invisible trampoline might actually discourage the climb up the ladder. It grounds him, rather than letting him soar...and it does this with an admission price of  $ome mental anguish on both our parts.

Well, blow me away and bounce me up to the stars! What a bunch of foolishness even a fairly sane parent can be.

One of the things that I love most about by own parents is that they instilled a sense of fearlessness in me. I'm not afraid to take risks. I always assume that I will survive. I pretty much think I can do just about anything once I figure out what that anything requires. It's a good trait, and one I hope to pass along.

I love that kid of mine. Jesses off, baby. Fly.

On trust and a new day

Not the old Pecan, but one of my favorite trees on the farm

“Deciding whether or not to trust a person is like deciding whether or not to climb a tree because you might get a wonderful view from the highest branch or you might simply get covered in sap and for this reason many people choose to spend their time alone and indoors where it is harder to get a splinter.” -Lemony Snicket, The Penultimate Peril

Trust shouldn't be a fragile butterfly wing, but sometimes it's exactly that. Broken butterfly wings don't mend, they don't fly, they certainly can't soar. I've found myself on the un-trusted side of the trust equation for a long while now. It hasn't much mattered what I've said- that I didn't move the coffee pot in the middle of the night, that I hadn't been unfaithful-it simply didn't matter because the other half just would not believe me. It hurt. It made me feel crazy. It wore me down emotionally. It sapped all my brain cells. Seriously, all of them. And he's still part of my heart, and I guess that will ache for awhile. 

So... tomorrow I begin a new chapter in my life. One that I hope is filled with more reason than speculation. One that is full of more joy and more grace than the one before. There will be a part of me that will wish he had chosen to climb the tree in hopes of the wonderful view, but life isn't static. It moves forward. Noah will get lessons in tree climbing (along with all those music lessons he loves). We will become the crazed tree climbers of North together. When you see us up in the old Pecan, be sure to wave... or at least smile and know that we are enjoying the view. 

Peace and Love, 

Krista

Happy Thanksgiving!

I have so much for which I'm thankful. Sometimes when life gets tough it is important to remind myself. 

I so love this boy!!!

I have a great kid. I lucked out with wonderful parents.  I have a brother and sisters who inspire me, laugh with me, and pull me out of the funk when I crawl into that dark place. I have great friends. I work with great people. I get to spend time with some amazing kids.

The dysfunctional family Thanksgiving actually functions for me.  I am going to my mom's. Although there is always the scare of food poisoning there, it's always fun with the Flanagan/Gustafson crew. That was not an insult to anyone's cooking prowess...Some will know what it means.  Anyhoo, Noah will get picked up there by his Dad and he'll do Thanksgiving with Steve and Grandma JoAnna. Grandpa Jim is sailing Scrimshaw south. At 4:15 Noah and I will meet back at the house for the Redskins/Cowboys game. Yay!! And we will get to watch it in the living room because the Dish man is coming today.

On Sunday I am cooking a turkey and doing my own version of Thanksgiving for old Tom across the street's birthday. He will be 84 years old. He doesn't know he's coming for dinner yet, and I suppose Noah and I should walk over and make the invite this afternoon.

Love to all, and Happy Thanksgiving! -K

A short answer to a simple question

Because I am a woman.

Because I believe in a woman’s right to choose.

Because I believe she should have access to contraception and other affordable health services.

Because I believe in her right to earn the same wage as her male counterpart.

Because I believe she is strong, and valuable, and the most ardent promoter of peace.

Because I believe that the Violence Against Women Act should have been an easy pass.

Because I believe that rape is rape, no matter how it’s spun.

Because I believe that trickle down economics never worked for anyone except for those at the top.

Because I believe that ending poverty is a moral obligation.

Because I believe that no one should go hungry and that no child should be homeless.

Because I believe that the voice of people in government should be more powerful than money.

Because I believe in the fundamental dignity and worth of all Americans.

Because I believe that while one’s faith might inform politics, that it should never be used to deny rights to different groups of citizens based on certain interpretations of a certain book.

Because I believe we are our brothers and our sisters keepers.

Because I believe that we love whom we love and that our rights as lovers, whether married or single, should never hinge on whether we love as a man and a woman or as a woman and a woman or as a man and a man.

Because I believe in the value of public education.

Because I believe in our teachers.

Because I believe in equal access to higher education.

Because I believe in Dreamers and in their promise and potential.

Because I believe that supporting our troops means keeping them out of harm’s way whenever possible and providing jobs and benefits and decent pay for all who put their lives on the line.

Because I believe that veterans should not be homeless.

Because I believe that war is seldom an answer.

Because I believe that clean energy is the only solution to long-term sustainability.

Because I believe we owe it to the planet to keep Mother Earth solvent.

Because I am diabetic.

Because I believe in affordable health care.

Because I believe that the elderly should have easy access to healthcare without the burden of trying to stretch a voucher.

Because I know what Medicaid means for mothers with sick children and no way of covering hundreds of thousands in hospital bills.

Because I believe that a great America is one that values the contributions of all its citizens and one that creates space for all to flourish.

Because I love my son, and I want him to grow up in a world of hope and promise, with access to healthcare and education, in one just a little bit kinder and a whole lot cleaner.

Because all of that apparently makes me a bleeding heart liberal, I will cast my vote for President Obama as I did four years ago.

5 things that made me smile thru the first half of the week

1. Laughter with friends.
2. Noah yelling "I love you" as he boarded the bus.
3. An update from my Nigerian sister (a woman I am helping thru women for women international). She is learning about women's rights during her third quarter of the program.
4. A kid today said that our engineering lesson was more fun than recess (it was a lot messier too).
5. A not so subtle reminder to embrace the present and live loved. Thank you. I needed that.
6. A message from someone who makes me smile.

World on a string, My grams and Alzheimer's

“You're so beautiful," said Alice. "I'm afraid of looking at you and not knowing who you are."

 "I think that even if you don't know who I am someday, you'll still know that I love you."

 "What if I see you, and I don't know that you're my daughter, and I don't know that you love me?"

 "Then, I'll tell you that I do, and you'll believe me.”

― Lisa Genova, Still Alice

I just recently spent a week with my grandma out in Nebraska. She is 94. She’s been a real crackerjack all my life. I hate what Alzheimer’s is putting her through.  I told her I loved her so many times during that week, it might have seemed like I was the one with neurons firing improperly. Sometimes Gramma’s gaze was far off, but sometimes she would look  into me and say “I love you too… and I really mean it.”  I’ve never felt anything but love from my grams, and I still feel it. 

Sometimes beautiful Carmen struggled to get the right words out, and when they made no sense my heart sank for her. Many times I discovered that I was biting my lip to keep tears at bay. I was determined not to cry. This is so much worse for her than me.  Changing and bathing and bathroom duties compromised her dignity and clearly caused her stress. She’d tell me I’d lost my gold star as I tried to help quickly and gently. Sometimes “no gold star” became “leave me alone, asshole” and inside I’d smile Yay, Grams, crystal clear, all the words where they should be.

 My grandma loves music. Noah played one of her favorites. Sinatra.

I’ve got the world on a string

I’m sitting on a rainbow

Got the string around my finger

What a world, what a life – I’m in love

When Noah was just a babe, Gram would sing that song to him and when he became a talker, he’d sing it back—in person, on the phone. It was their song. So much time had passed since I’d heard it, and then there they were sitting on the sofa together, Noah with his computer playing the song for her on itunes and she’s swaying with the melody, a smile across her face.

 

I miss Gramma.  I miss Carmen.  On Saturday Noah and I have an amazing opportunity to walk for an Alzheimer’s cure.  Check out the link below if you are so inclined.
 
Life’s a wonderful thing
As long as I hold the string

I’d be a silly so-and-so

If I should ever let her go

Link to Alzheimer's Walk

 

Memory and Carmen Castillo

Another recycled blog...
Noah and I are leaving Sat/Sun to fly out to visit my gram. He is going to give her his old ipod loaded with the Ricky Martin and other Latino music she so enjoys along with some of the Big Band music from yester-year. He's a good egg, my boy.

Memory.
Clickety-clack went her high-heels along the sidewalk as I struggled to keep up, making sure I didn't step on a crack. Where were we? In the dusty book of days past, on some nearly forgotten shelf in my brain, are the faintest memories of shopping with my grandmother in Washington, D.C. I hear the noise of cars passing and feel my arms swinging, but the visual image is just the cement sidewalk-- my feet skipping over the cracks to avoid breaking my mother's back-- and Gramma's red heels and the pleated hemline of her skirt that was just at the knee. And clickety-clack, I had to keep up, and where are we going? but my whole movie has been edited out... except for that one scene. Clickety-clack.

I hate not being able to recall. I know she feels the same. I've heard her say it: "Oh, I'm so stupid, I can't remember the word." My grandmother has been alot of things; stupid was never one of them. And this just isn't the script she'd have written for the last scenes of her movie.

My brother just gave me the sweetest present via ancestry.com:

The first tangible evidence of the Bluefields story. Amazing. So they left Bluefields, Nicaragua aboard the Olancho on August 29, 1923 and arrived in New York on September 5. My grandmother was five, and she and Volberg (the spelling is different than I've seen elsewhere) would live at 578 Academy St, NY, NY.

According to Gramma the apartment was across the street from a fire department. She had a mischevous side, and apparently burned a wax doll. When smoke billowed out the window, they didn't have far to come. That, and the firemen looked after her a bit as she was a latch-key kid. Her mom worked as an accountant in the fashion district. Gramma says her mom would give her money to attend piano lessons after-school, but it was just enough for pie and a soda at the local diner, so that is where she would go. Apparently it worked out fine until recital time.

My grandmother never sat for a single piano lesson...but as a kid I would marvel at how she could sit at our old piano and peck out a tune. She loved music, still does. We used to all dance with her in her living room when we visited. She has crazy stories of driving all night with my grandad to dance and listen to great music in Chicago back in the 40s. One of them involves dancing through a drummer and landing in a drum.

Well, I have rambled on through this blog tonight, and that was never my intention. Kurt's happy surprise in the middle blew the melancholy memories away, and I am dancing with my gram to "La Vida Loca."

Peace and Love, Krista

High Tide or Low Tide

A short respite from reality.

Feeling the cool water over my feet and the sand rushing beneath them on a receding wave.

Laughing with Harley. Healing hearts.

Watching Noah find his groove.

Staying up late and watching spectacular shooting stars.

Surviving a little too much of the red wine and skipping over snakes.

Until next time. Big hugs, my friend.

 Love ya, Harley, High Tide or Low tide. :) (Bob Marley)

I'm driving to the beach tomorrow... to breathe.
Noah will be my co-pilot. He is going to learn to use an old fashioned map.
We will go to the beach and dream, and read.
In the evening we will hang out with an old friend.
We will put our feet in the sand, and smile at the stars or clouds which ever they may be.
We will look out for the meteor shower.
We will dream.
I will breathe and laugh with Harley about how funny life is.
She will laugh me back to life. We will all laugh together.
And then my boy and I might learn to surf...and that is the funniest thing ever.
Much love and happy wishes for the weekend
Peace and Love, K

Not Forgetting.

Carmen Castillo, My grandma

What follows is an old blog...I'm not really up to the emotional task of writing all of what I am feeling these days. Life has been a little crazy. If you had been to the poetry reading at Gloucester Arts on Main last week, you'd know what I mean.  Poetry is some crazy sport. I recently heard one  in which a husband declared his life with the wife is worse than being hooked on heroin. Yeah, it was a surprise for me too. I won't be attending any more of those.  But this is a poem of a different sort. My gramm's favorite.  Noah and I cancelled our vacation plans. We are flying out to Nebraska. My grandma isn't doing well. I want to hold her hand one more time. Alzheimers sucks even more than men.

"Sea-Fever"
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
 John Masefield (1878-1967)



One of my grandmother's favorite poems. She used to recite it all the time, along with the Preamble to the Constitution and Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. My grandmother has Alzheimer's. She's 92 94. I have been thinking about her alot lately because I really miss her and I wish I hadn't waited so long to ask the questions about her years in Nicaragua and her father, Domingo Castillo, who took her there in the mid-twenties. I have only pieces of the story, Bluefields, the kidnapping (if you call it that), a godfather that was the President of Nicaragua at the time, and the story of a mother who travelled far to retrieve her daughter, contracted malaria, and eventually died in a mental hospital in New York.

For family that might read this, that is the story I got...if you heard a different version feel free to chime in. I'm going on a hunt for old photos and will scan them in tomorrow, but for awhile at least my blog will be about Gramma. She was the most enjoyable travel partner I ever had, having come out to visit me in both Greece and Italy, and I just really miss her humor. Yes, even hearing "Sea Fever" over and over. And, hey, I wouldn't know the Preamble without her. I'm going to call her tonight, but she never stays on the phone for long...I just need to say "I love you, Gramma."

Men suck

True story.
Shortest blog ever.

Vacation...Please come soon.

Vacation...a little more planned today than yesterday...it incorporates fun and learning and a whole lot of driving and camping. Stop one: Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water House. I've never seen it in person and Noah studied FLW in school this year, but never saw so much as a picture until I realized that he hadn't and then I brought out my FLW books from the old art history gig and he got to see it all...in 2D...which is not good enough. Next Stop: Ohiopyle State Park for camping and hiking and white water rafting. Noah wants to do a class III/IV river. I think he is nuts. Mostly, I'd be afraid he would fall out, so I am hoping for class II/III or at least a solid III. From there we go to Niagara Falls and camping somewhere in Ontario.  And then we go to Toronto to visit the Royal Ontario Museum (while still camping somewhere in Ontario). In Toronto after the museum, we will be scoping out music stores and musicians' exchanges for the next keyboard (he has saved up, but I won't let him buy another without playing it first...so no online monkey business).  Afterwards we will meander home through Ithaca (hope to visit my sister, Tara who doesn't know that this is even a remote possibility yet,  and do some waterfall hikes) and then apple picking somewhere and who knows what else. I am no good at long term planning, but the first few days sound good.

Provisions for the trip are evolving. Noah talked me into ordering a self inflating double high queen mattress for our tent.  As kids we put our sleeping bags on the ground, so this kind of feels dirty to me... not to mention ridiculous in an emergency evacuation of the tent (whether it be due to critter or lightening). We have a tent that Tambi gave us (with slashes that need to be duct-taped as a critter apparently tried to get in just a few minutes after we evacuated during the last backyard camp-out) and a camp stove (also a gift from IBMAT) so we are getting there. I made Noah put back the $9 collapsable bowls the last time we were shopping, but might invest in a mess kit for him. We will be cooking Thai Ramen (Ramen with added peanutbutter and curry powder, my personal fav), pancakes, and who knows what else. We are looking forward to Indian food at Niagara as my brother says that is all you can get there and it happens to be some of our favorite! Yippee!

Turtle rescuer

Noah has been spotting turtles left and right. I've been doing some crazy driving so he can hop out and save a turtle from the road. Sometimes we have to just cross our fingers and hope the little guy is still in one piece when traffic clears or when we' ve made a long trip back. I've been known to brake for pine cones so a new pair of glasses might be in order.

Noah and I are still pondering vacation. We will be heading out third week on August. Still no idea where we'll end up. North, South...even looked up airfare to Nicaragua. Any good ideas welcome.

I so love this kid!

Practicing resurrection

 One of my favorite pieces...Wendell Berry.I am not yet up to writing/sharing.  :( Maybe soon. I'm trying.

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion — put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

 

 

The curious incident of the snake at dinner time

Sunday 

5:45 PM. The gas oven is turned on to preheat dinner rolls. Henry ate the last pack before it even thawed so getting this far tonight is a feat all by itself. Spaghetti marinara, steamed broccoli, dinner rolls…yum. And we didn’t even have water in the morning as the pump had blown. David installed a new pump. I replaced the leaky kitchen faucet. Life is good.

5:50 PM. Something smells like a cook-out, but since there isn’t one, I ignore it.

5:51 PM. BLEEP. The smoke alarm goes off. I don’t see any smoke. The alarm stops quickly. Just a fluke, I think. (The last fluky thing that struck me was the height restriction bar at the Hampton parking garage…it wasn’t a fluke. You can’t get in there without a lot of bang, bump, and bang if you drive a Matrix with a vertical kayak rack).

5:53 PM Henry starts barking and Abbey starts screeching. They seem to will the smoke alarm into fighting mode. BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP.

5:54 PM Black smoke from the fantasy cookout spills out of the oven. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. Henry is yelping, Abbey is about to bust my eardrums. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.  I yell for Noah to take Abbey outside. Henry is already on the porch. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.

5:54.30 PM Fearing a meltdown...  BLEEP. BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP...I pull the plug on BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP the oven and turn everything off (never mind that I have a gas oven and did not think to turn the gas off at the valve). BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. I can hardly concentrate. Henry is barking and Abbey is screeching from the porch and Ariel is barking… BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP and that alarm!

5:55 PM I stand on the counter top to BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP  reach the smoke alarm. BLEEP. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. My ears are killing me. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP It won’t turn off. Through the smoke I begin to decipher that the fantasy cookout has been ruined…burned…it’s a stench. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.

5:56 PM Having given up on finding an off button BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP or opening the battery compartment, BLEEP BLEEP I land a heavy punch to the alarm with my fist. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.

5:56:30 PM Momentary peace. I manage to ignore the alarm. As much peace as you can have in a house filled with smoke, an alarm blaring with two dogs in an asynchronous uproar, a parrot screeching on the front porch, and a kid wanting to know what I did to dinner.

5:57 PM Like superwoman, I leap from the counter and the tips of my fingers brush against the switch for the ceiling fan. Smoke swirls around my head in clouds as if I am the eye of the hurricane as I open the oven. More black smoke billows out.

5:58 PM With the smoke lifting, I peer into the oven. I think I see a snake coming out of the space where there would have been flame. It’s not moving. BLEEP. BLEEP.BLEEP. No, it must be a large piece of insulated wire. BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP. The kind with the woven metal covering.

5:58:15 PM Wait, I think the wire has a mouth. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. Dogs barking. Abbey making noise.

5:58:30 PM No. It’s a wire, but it is a gas oven and there shouldn’t be any big wire. BLEEP BLEEP Dogs still barking.

5:58:45 PM Snake

5:59 PM Wire BLEEP. BLEEP.BLEEP

6:00 PM I climb up on the counter again and deliver the fatal blow to the smoke alarm.

6:00 -6:05 PM (spent time looking for corkscrew and finally found one on Noah’s pocket knife… wine uncorked around 6:05)

6:06 PM Epiphany: this is what husbands are for. I’m not a total weeny, but I'm no good with dead animals, and really when someone else can deal with this, why not share the joy? I call David to find out when he will be back at the house. Why…Because there is a problem I need you to fix. What’s up? You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. C’mon. Okay, so I think I cooked a black snake and I need you to get it out of the oven so I can bake the dinner rolls.

6:06-6:15ish. I enjoy a nice Merlot while watching the oven like a hawk. The dead snake does not move. Noah calls his grandma to share the news.

6:15 PM David dons special chemical gloves and a head lamp to handle the snake removal which he undertakes with needle-nosed pliers. At first only the top half comes out--the head half. The snake is too fat to pull the bottom half through the opening. Photo op with the head-end.

6:20 PM David dismantles the lower shielding plate on the oven and removes the tail end of the snake. It is quite charred. All in all, probably a 4 footer.

6:21 PM This is where David and I really differ. He cleans the oven before putting everything back together. I fret about putting chemicals (bleach) into the oven. Had I to do it all on my own: No gloves. No head lamp. No pliers (just a fork). No clean-up with bleach. I would have gotten the bottom half out, but then I would have just put everything back together and turned the oven back on for the dinner rolls. I would claim that burn-off would sterilize everything. In between all of that would have been the dry heaves and near fainting which happen when I am in the vicinity of a dead animal. It is heart breaking to think I murdered that snake. I would have been much happier to have had to remove a live one. Anyway, sometimes I really do appreciate our differences-David's and mine.  Mental note to self: Picky-ness should not always carry a negative connotation. It can be a good thing, too.

Dinner was great. We did not eat snake. I’ve heard it tastes like chicken, but I know it smells like a  burger cook-out. Maybe next time? Happy baking everyone. It's summer time and the snakes are coming for dinner.

Unraveled seeks adventure

“I feel too much. That's what's going on.' 'Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel in the wrong ways?' 'My insides don't match up with my outsides.' 'Do anyone's insides and outsides match up?' 'I don't know. I'm only me.' 'Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and outside.' 'But it's worse for me.' 'I wonder if everyone thinks it's worse for him.' 'Probably. But it really is worse for me.” -Jonathan Safran Foer

hmm...It's been rough lately. I'm coming unraveled. I think too much. I feel too deeply. I lose myself in the rise of the moon. I worry about a woman I am trying to help who lives thousands of miles away, and the only thing I know for sure is that we do gaze upon that same big moon.  I wonder what she sees in it.

Then there's politics...and I still cant get (NO, I am not going there)
And, worse, religion... I'm still  a fan of religion free Jesus...even if that isn't so popular...or especially because of that. I don't know. Who am I?
And messed up in politics and religion are so many of the things that concern me--homelessness, genocide, women's rights, poverty, education... STOP

I'm taking two days off at the end of the week to spend a long weekend with Noah. It seems so far off, but it isn't. I know that, but I can't feel it. I'm a contradiction.

I can't sleep most nights. When I do, my dreams are bizarre, weird even for me. They connect disjointed memories and the fantastic. I'm 16 at Victory Life Church with my friend Harley the day our mothers came with us and then it morphs into a pirate ship and the whole scene is chaotic. The preacher is ranting on about divorce and there's yo, ho, ho and a bottle of rum. I'm laughing now, but it is 1 am and I want to sleep like everyone else.

Plans for the long weekend? none. I've always wanted to just park my car at the airport and buy a ticket anywhere, and we just might do that...or there's packing the tent and just heading south along the coast, and that is a possibility, too. I asked Noah what he'd like to do and it seems that taking the scooters to a park would be just fine. I love that kid. He has his first guitar lesson tomorrow night with Franklin Jarvis. Noah's excitement is palpable and contagious. He keeps me going, that kid of mine.

So, now it is time to lay these weary bones to rest...or at least try. I can work out how to reconfigure the world tomorrow. Tonight I am going to close my eyes and picture cool water rushing over my feet and the sand rushing out between my toes.

Good-night friends, Love and Peace to all, Krista

ps. My friend Jim Palmer is doing a cloud call with Jim Henderson April 12. Check out his blog www.divinenobodies.com if you are interested. Topic is his new book and religion free Jesus.

Freedom

So...I love seagulls...and I know it doesn't fit here, but who cares

Morning ramble in my crazy head...

What I see now with the clarity of the crisp spring morn is that the jesses were always illusory. They existed only in my mind and reflection only ever lent them weight and substance, tethering me to the perch. The quest now is to fly onward into How, leaving Why to the past (though still intrinsic, it need not define me). Love soars like a Peregrine on a swift spring breeze.

A Beautiful Life

My weekend...

Off on Friday, We took Ariel to the vet. No worries, she's fine, but I was worried nonetheless. She's my second child. After, Noah and I took Henry to Bethel Beach. We were the only ones there. It was beautiful as always. There is a new to me cut that separates the beach now. In March the water is still too cold to wade across, but we will be back soon...with waders.

Then we went to Holly Hill Antique Farm where Noah attempted to trade the deer head he brought back from the dump. No trade, but he was offered a part time job when he is old enough to work off the pumpkin farm. It is one of Noah's favorite places to visit. He's excited.

On Saturday, I taught a class at Jamestown 4-H Center's Arts and Robotics Camp.  In my class youth made mobiles from wire and tissue paper and modge podge glue. I got to work with one of the new summer staff members, Kendall. She was AWESOME, and she told a great camper joke that was even related to my program. How do you get a tissue to dance? You just put a little boogie in it.  While I was at camp, Noah went to the livestock swap at Tractor Supply and came back with these:

He asked if I was mad after he set them up at the farm. Mad, how could I be mad? And what would the point be... The birds already have a home.

  After that we went to a birthday party for the sweetest girl in the world. Jazzy turned 6. Of course there was the usual confusion about who was celebrating a birthday, so I arrived with a birthday gift for her grandad as well. There was much laughter and a  big heap of fun. Some people had a few too many Mojitos, but I stuck with the Moscato and sipped slowly. It was a fun scene to watch. Someone had enough Mojitos to survive being in a room full of people poking fun at the Tea Party and its trans- vaginal probes. It was good hanging out with the Chandlers again. Milly, the laughing lady behind Noah is one of my favorite ladies on the planet. She radiates joy like my mom.

 I am lucky to have a few of those kind of ladies in my life. They are the neon beacons that point the way. I'm sure they show up better on infa-red radar than just about anything else on this crazy planet. They just glow. If you have them in your life, you know you are blessed.

 So now it is Sunday.  Noah and I went to Hampton to hear my friend Bert speak at Harbor Point Community Church.  If you are looking for a picture, I didn't take the camera.  Bert is an awesome speaker, and today was no exception. He spoke beautiful words of truth into my heart. We had to make an abrupt exit at the end when Noah discovered chicken poop on his pants from morning chores, but we enjoyed meeting church members and look forward to our next visit.  You can see Bert's sermon is here.

That picture to the left is one that Noah took on our walk at Bethel Beach.  Lovely weekend. And now we are making homemade pizza and everyone has to make their own cause we don't like the other one's sauces. I like mine with pesto and no tomato sauce. 

Peace and Love, and I hope everyone had a fantastic weekend! Krista

Spirit of the Radio

"Begin the day with a friendly voice,

A companion unobtrusive...

What irony that Rush Limbaugh began his radio show with these words from a song by my all time favorite band.  While in college I once ran across Williamsburg in a dress to catch a bus headed to a Rush concert. I don't remember which. I don't remember where. I went to hear them numerous times...it's all a blur.  That time I'd gone with my friend, Hugh, and a slew of people I didn't know at all on a really wacky converted school bus... I'm sure it was an awesome adventure...I do recall that it was so packed in front of the stage that Hugh and I could feel our feet lift off the floor. Mostly, this song in particular connects me to some wild and wonderful sailing days with friends aboard the Happy Frog...Ahh, sweet summer memories...

Sweet summer memories  give way to the unfortunate truth: Rush Limbaugh is a big fat idiot. Still. After all these years. I just googled that first sentence because I couldn't remember that it was Al Franken who used those same words to name a book.  The list of links that came up really turned the corners on my smile however as they began to add up--there are blogs and books and articles all over that name themselves using some variation of those words!

I'm not even going to bother with the extended list of reasons for why I find RL to be utterly idiotic.  His last blast at Sandra Fluke is enough for me.  I brought the topic up at breakfast.  There should be a big space here for people who know David and I to pause and giggle. That was a few days ago. I've been trying to process the aftermath ever since.  Another big space, but this time for me. I should know better than to stir politics into morning coffee...It didn't go well.  David had not seen the RL video on youtube...he didn't hear with his own ears the words RL used to describe Sandra Fluke. I however HAD...and I did my very best to summarize with all the flamboyance and indignation that I could muster because the Republican War on Women disgusts me.  And I waited for David's response...which I found frought with problems and potholes. "I'd have to hear it for myself."

"I'd have to hear it for myself." WTF...I thought, I heard it, I saw it. Am I so unbelievable? Do you think I misunderstood and can't give reliable testimony...oh, because I am a woman...I am a woman who, in this insane state from which I'd like to secede, can't be trusted even with her own vagina.  No. It did not go well.

In the days since, I've wondered why I had to invite RL to breakfast with us. I don't have an especially good reason--except that I am tired and frustrated from bottling it up.  I was a self-igniting firecracker. BOOM. It's been a tough ride just dealing with the backwards leaning insanity of  the VA General Assembly and Governor's Office...from transvaginal to personhood to gun control...backwards, backwards we go... where we'll stop, nobody knows.  I'm opinionated. I have opions that differ vastly from those of my husband. I do want to understand his perspective...but it seems I am just unable. sigh

If you've had your head in the sand, we Virginians now  have a Signed-by-the-Gov. mandate which will require women to have a transabdominal ultrasound before an abortion.  Never mind that it is medically unneccessary. Never mind that it will not be covered by insurance. Never mind that a transabdominal ultra sound will produce no discernable image in the early stages of pregnancy when most abortions are performed.  That's right. No discernable image. That's why this bill started out with the  transvaginal ultrasound...until it was pointed out that the transvaginal ultra sound without the consent of the women amounts to rape . Yup, state sanctioned rape...

Title 18.2-67.2 Code of Va.
INANIMATE OBJECT SEXUAL PENETRATION
Definition: Penetration of the vagina or rectum with any object by force and against the will of the victim.
Penalty: 5 years to life imprisonment

And then there is the contraception debacle...Yeah, I'm still mad about this. Why do we give the so called conservative religious folk the right to make laws which serve only to bully the rest of us? Why?

Begin the day with a friendly voice,

A companion unobtrusive

Plays that song that's so elusive

And the magic music

makes your morning mood.

-Rush, Spirt of the Radio

So Rush pulled their music from the RL show. Several others have done the same. The formal tally of dropped sponsors is around 40.  Let's hope he is down for the count. It looks like War on Women is beginning to translate in polling data. See here.


Well, what can I say...Keep your politics out of the morning coffee--it is the key to an exceptional morning mood (along with some good music from one's favorite band). I'm gonna try. Peace and Love and great weekend! -K

Listening with laughter at the monkeys

Listening with laughter at the monkeys

You can’t get honey without bees

Landlord is crying for his money

Someone’s got to save the trees

What happened to my drinking water

What’s wrong with the air I breathe

Could we treat the earth like our daughter

Will Gaia bounce back when we leave

Science is only science when there’s profit

Just a tool to feed the greed

Send them to Tuvalu who don’t believe it

Let them face the rising sea

We’re drowning

We’re toxic

Suffocating

Endangered

Fracking idiotic

Greedy

Little people

Blind who see

But don’t believe

 Monkeys say that they know better

Just want us to believe

But the coast only keeps getting wetter

Who’s got aspirin between their knees

There’s no love lost for the commons

Money doesn’t grow on trees

The time has come to make our amends

Even the fish aren’t free

We’re drowning

We’re toxic

Suffocating

Endangered

Fracking idiotic

Greedy

Little people

Blind who see

But don’t believe

And M should be the scarlet letter

They should wear it on their sleeves

For the starving, it will get no better

When we don’t have any seeds

We’re drowning

We’re toxic

Suffocating

Endangered

Fracking idiotic

Greedy

Little people

Blind who see

But don’t believe

Enough ranting for one night.

Peace and love, the fighting mermaid

Noah and the boat and ADD

Despite the "(pending)" next to Noah's name on the family side of my facebook page, he isn't waiting to happen, and he is most certainly my son. The conversation we had on the phone this afternoon while he waited for me at Boys and Girls Club left little doubt.


Noah launching the Catalina that is in the cove.
 His boat is the orange sister parked in the front yard.

Noah: Hey, Mom, you know that focus medicine I take. It really works, but today it worked differently. I was so focused all day on cleaning out my boat, I couldn't think of anything else at school. It was so hard to think, Mom.
Me: What did you do in school?
Noah: What? I was thinking about cleaning out the boat.
Me: How was the science quiz?
Noah: It was the hardest thing ever. It took me an hour and fifteen minutes.
Me: Why is that?
Noah: I was thinking about cleaning out the boat.
Me: Wasn't it a quiz with your notes?
Noah: I left my binder at home so it wasn't a quiz with notes. It was a quiz with me thinking about the boat. I'm sure I got an F.
Me: Well, don't worry about it. You know the stuff even if the grade doesn't work out so good.
Noah and I have ADD. Focus can be either non-existent or tunnel vision. He's on the all A honor roll in middle school, but there is still the occasional really bad grade on something he knows well.  It happens when he just isn't thinking on topic.
I wish I could make grades less important with a wave of the wand. Make them float off in the wind.

Noah with Grandpa Jim on the Windrider 17.
Noah will learning to sail the Windrider 16 over the summer.

without edges

It was an edgy, busy week...

but the farm animals are not so critical.

One of Noah's bunnies. I tried to capture both of them...
the other is a lion-faced rabbit, but not so much interested
 in having his picture taken

Regal Hennie. She is sweet, but hopelessly
 in love with the little white rooster
...and she nearly strangled the other
hen in a fit of jealousy.
My mom put her in time out

Of course, our new pup, Henry is not a farm animal...
but he got in this group of pictures and I just won't delete him



Peanut, the pygmy goat. We love her.She is hard to photograph
 because she always wants to get too close to the lens.

Two of our three sheep. Sundae (black and white) started
out as Noah's 4-H project. The gal in front was purchased
 to keep Sundae company.

I could watch the ducks in the pond for hours.
 My two favorites are a pair of Indian Runner ducks,
but they must have been busy running instead of swimming

The chicken convention.  They successfully hid their eggs
 for the better part of a week, but we found them
yesterday along with a turkey egg.

The sign is back up...much thanks to Westly...
who happened by as we were struggling to hoist it up.

It's Sunday. There are rumors of snow.
Hot chocolate.
Movies.
Reading with Noah
(he's reading Steinbeck)
baking cookies with my grandma's xtra special oatmeal cookie recipe
Sometimes it's really nice to get rid of the edges.

Have a great week. -K

It's official.

It's official.
I am a liberal-heretic. Heretic-liberal. Whichever way that goes.
That's me.
I don't believe in any hell of God's doing...just the one we create here...when we should be practicing love.

I think a woman should have control of her own body.
I think it is demeaning when men and other women think they have better insight into a woman's life than she has herself.
I think all of these personhood amendments will open Pandora's box...the hypocrisy of the "conservative" small government in relation to the aftermath of personhood...
The non-invasive vaginal probe ultrasound?? Really. C'mon, people.

So go ahead...Attack my faith.
Attack my views on politics and gender.
Show me how restricting contraception and access to abortion helps the poor.
I'm really good at deleting hate mail.

I'm sorry about your problems with tax payer funds getting used to help educate and support poor women...
I don't like mine supporting wars which murder innocents...You see, I have pro-life leanings as well.
Apples and oranges?
Dig deeper.
Think harder.
Run the movie out...It's in black and white...especially for you.

There are some choices that are so personal  and so profoundly difficult, that they must be made only by the individual and her God.

Peace and love, Krista

I have loved hours at sea

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I have loved hours at sea, gray cities, The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill, Voices of people kindly and wise, And the great look of love, long hidden, Found at last in meeting eyes. I have loved much and been loved deeply -- Oh when my spirit's fire burns low, Leave me the darkness and the stillness, I shall be tired and glad to go. -Sara Teasdale

the fog that lifted

Over the horizon
beyond silence
where converation ceased
was I the fog that lifted
in the early dawn
when I left the cloak of silent slumber
dripping wet in front of the shower
was I ever really there
was it a dream
And the something beautifully brutal
11-year old brown eyes
find me always
even in the invisibility
and turns a frown
into a smile
and fills my heart
and I am no more vapor
but solid and
present
learning to sing.

Guacamole makes me smile.

Guacamole just makes me happy. It makes the sun shine brighter and the stars just dance. Today at work I spent hours a few moments just marvelling at how that bright green bowl of sunshine works its magic. My wonderment was interupted by my friend Liz who hollered back at me while I ate chips and guacomole as a late breakfast, "hey Krista, doesn't that have a lot of fat in it?" Only good fat. I found myself defending the guacomole. I can't help it. It makes me smile.

I fully intended to get online to find scientific evidence that guacamole could wipe out depression, cure seasonal affective disorder and maybe even eliminate my need for insulin... but I really don't have time for avocado research. And I really don't want to know that it might be too high in fat or that there could be a limit to how much one person should consume--a recommended daily allowance that I'm sure I far exceed...so I'll just end with my ideal guacamole recipe, keeping in mind that I don't measure anything and would make it even if missing most of the ingredients. Don't try it if you don't have an avocado!

4 perfectly ripe avocados. If you buy them hard, put them in a paper bag for a day or two.
2 cloves of garlic (or more...if you're home alone with a good book like Julia Alvarez's In the time of  the Butterflies)
2 limes squeezed and one meyers lemon (a regular lemon will work here too, and in a pinch I've just stirred in some frozen limeade or margarita mix)
hot sauce (as you like it-I like it HOT)
1 or 2 chopped tomatoes (my favorite is called granadero, but at this time of year I just use the grape tomatoes)
1/2 a large diced onion (most recipes call for red onion, but I like mayan onions so I use those... and if I have none-- and its summertime-- I go outside and pick a bunch of wild ones)
Cilantro (I like it, some people don't. It's optional as are all the ingredients except the first).
Mix it all up. Serve on warm corn tortillas...yum and smile.

So there you go. Instant sunshine and happy days.

Peace and love, Krista

ps. I am struggling with my disappointment in the Susan G Komen Foundation's decision to pull funding from Planned Parenthood. I've always been a huge fan of both organizations for what they do for women's health...especially for the less affluent.  It is time for more guacamole!!!

The mystery. My heart articulated by a friend.

Wow. What a beautiful today. The best part of today was finding the song of my heart...as sung  (written) by my friend, Amy Folk.  Amy and I happen to have the same heart (our model numbers are identical).

I never fully contemplated hearing my song coming from another human. I've struggled to compose it, to write it down, have it make sense to someone else. It's quite wonderful.
It's true. The music is playing all around us, all you have to do is listen-August Rush.

So...here is my heart in the words of Amy Folk, friend.


I need the mystery
The whisper that comes in the quiet places
Of sunrises and dreams
Of roses and mourning

I need the mystery
That says there is something
More alive than life
Something stronger than death
Something greater than myself
And Nothing more profound than love


Don’t take this mystery
And rob it with regulations
Taking that which is truly holy
Binding it with cords that you can understand
Breaking the sacred down
Into so much less
Than what it truly is
Just so you can swallow it


Please don’t try to tell me that
Broken dreams and broken hearts
Are just a result of broken rules


To me that is not God
All that is -is man dressing up


If God resides in
Quotes and lines and letters
If God resides in
Religion and denomination and structures
If God resides in
Dogma and dictates and decrees
Then who, may I ask
Resides in the heavens?

No, you may not have this mystery
You may not put an accent on this voice
You do not get to determine
Where it comes from or where it goes
So drop to your knees in the beauty of it
While love crushes you with the weight of eternity
Light blinds you until you see
What you never thought possible
Until you are reborn every day into the mystery

-Amy Folk

Strange days

Do you ever wake up thinking that maybe you are just too weird to be  Homo Sapiens? Today is one of those days for me.  I woke up, hardly knowing my own bed.  I couldn't say whether it was good sleep or not.  I drank coffee I didn't like and stumbled through the morning routine like I was living someone else's life. And then Noah shoots me a shit-eating grin and tells me a joke that is so not funny that I can't help but laugh, and suddenly life is better. The clock ticks. Noah and I escaped yesterday's near miss with the school bus (which gave him practice for the 100 m), but half-way to work I get the call: "Hey, Mom, we (yes he said we), we forgot my clarinet" so I just add that to things to do after my meeting...which really turned out to be a very nice and much needed count to ten and breathe deeply moment that lasted about 40 minutes (not the meeting, but the drive back home and then to his school and back to work).

I brought valentines to the human services department head meeting today. I host the January meeting.  Oh well, at least I didn't bring Fourth of July cards and fireworks. I ate 5 Valentine's Day Hershey Kisses, in white and pink, and red wrappings, hoping to find one that wasn't white chocolate-- which I don't really care for, only to discover the bag back at the office said they were all white chocolate. Ugh. And all that doesn't begin to account for why I really feel so weird these days, and I still want to articulate that, but it seems like every time I'm on the verge of doing so, I stop short and just don't, and I'm going to do it again...

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that- yes it’s true I’m here and I’m just as strange as you.
— Frida Kahlo

 Yes, Frida, I am thinking about you today more than ever.

There is a top-notch piece of writing on The Rumpus called The Throwaways by Melissa Chadburn that should be required reading for anyone who wants to weigh-in on matters of politics, and taxes, and social justice, and about what this country is or isn't and what it could be.  It makes my head spin, and perhaps that is partly why I feel strange today.

Peace and love, K