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