So the last day of 2008 has been a very social one. Angie came by for a visit, bringing gluten-free treats from the New Cascadia bakery (what a sweetie - you're the best!). We chatted about life, especially Costa Rica, a country dear to our hearts, and then sat down for some wonderful caldo de pollo made by Federico.
Later on he and I tucked into the most wonderful cupcake she brought.... yum.
Debbie stopped by to catch up and bring over some homemade tamales (thank you!).
Nanci and Yves are coming over to ring in the New Year in a bit. We are going to watch some funny DVDs, eat, drink sparkling cider and welcome 2009.
So I haven't brought myself to do my ROM today (yet). Intellectually I understand its importance, but the idea of yanking that sore swollen healing toe as hard as I can bear...ick. I just have to keep thinking of that sadist (opps, my surgeon) who will be yanking away on Monday.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
What I'm listening to
I'm listening to a remarkable book right now. A memoir of a woman who lost her stillborn baby and then got pregnant and had another child. She's reading her memoir on the audiobook, and I feel like she's my sister in loss. I'm sorry I can't think of a less corny expression....A sisterhood of women who lose their babies before they are born. That she is a librarian who loved Paris...well, there is one more bond we share. A sisterhood of Francophile librarians who lose their babies before birth?
There are parts that have me crying, and others laughing....because she's got a fine sense of humor that shines through the grief.
I was reading an interview with the author where she talks about how a song brings to mind her baby. So I'm not the only mother who has a song for the "lost kid."
But the song that really meant a lot to me, the summer after my first kid died, was “I Still Miss Someone” by Johnny Cash. Someone had sent Edward “Johnny Cash at San Quentin,” and I loaded it on my iPod. I never hit replay, but I was always happy to hear the song, and I always thought, This is about me, and I was always grateful for the slightly inappropriate jauntiness with which Johnny Cash sang the song. A weird juxtaposition, in other words. I still love to hear that song, and it still reminds me of my first lost kid.
I do suspect that her writing down the whole experience was healing for her, not to mention a way to leave some lasting tribute to her lost kid and her loving husband. I certainly am finding it really healing to be able to blog about the ways in which I'm been dealing with my loss. Like a diary that others can dip into. I wonder if some of my dear readers might be sick of the frequent references to the baby and miscarriage, and so I get to say -- she wrote a whole book about her baby!
She reminds so eloquently is that the love we feel for our lost kids is good and right. Not morbid or weird or crazy. Normal to love a child, however small. Normal not to forget.
Seeds
The seeds I ordered arrived yesterday, and I poured over each packet lovingly, reading the planting directions. What a treat. A big tease in the depth of winter, but a treat nonetheless. The anticipation of spring. Beautiful things to come.
I've decided that gardening is one of the best passions I could have...it has been a metaphor for life in all its beauty and harshness (things die all the time, no matter how hard you try). That was one of my biggest surprises as a new gardener. The whole idea that not every seed or seedling would make it, that one actually thins out plants, i.e. offs some so that others can grow. There is a natural cycle that you need to respect and follow, or at least acknowledge. I am one of those gardeners that believes in trying to not pretent we live in a different zone than we are actually in. I don't provide a lot of extra water or overwinter anything, so any plant in my garden has to make it on its own terms, pretty much. Dahlia bulbs stay in the ground. Scented geraniums do too. I seem to have good luck, but who knows what the Blizzard of 2008 has done to those tubers.
Well, I am not heartless. I do water my veggies; I provide organic fertilizer, compost and mulch with that 2x a year. The plants that live in my garden (and the earthworms, bees, butterflies, and birds) are very happy. You can tell. The little yard hums with life of all kinds.
I think planting seeds is miraculous, and my first time doing it successfully engendered amazement at the power of nature to create some lovely flowering plant from some tiny speck of seed. This summer when I was recovering from the miscarriage spending time in the garden was my solace. Nuturing life in the face of loss brought me great comfort. My first day back in the garden (I went back as soon as I could physically) there was a dragonfly that hovered around me as I worked. The first time I ever saw one in our garden. It just hung out, unafraid of me, even though I was very close....I decided that it was the baby's spirit coming to visit or comfort me. To let me know that life goes on....For the Day of the Dead altar I found a small metalwork dragonfly to represent his/her spirit.
A packet of seeds represents lots of things - hope, faith, miracles, no guarantees....
A good metaphor for life.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Santa and the food offering
Oh, I forgot to share the details of the visit from Santa to our home!! So Gladys is very interested in hearing my personal experiences with Santa. Do I believe in him? Did I leave him cookies? Did he eat them? Etc. I have never lied so much to her in our lives. I do not like it very much.
So after "Santa" aka Federico got back from Fred Myers with the loot; she collapased asleep with cookie crumbs on her lips...and we needed to set up the scene of the crime. aka the Christmas tree and the loot. He went down to the garage to retreive the presents. I hobbled over to scribble "To Gladys from Santa" in some quivering Santa writing. He set up cookies (what she had left of them), a tamale (this is a MEXICAN household he is visiting, after all) and some Mexican hot chocolate. It was past midnight.
I stared at him and the array of food and told him - you need to eat that stuff.
Federico (who is Mexican and doesn't get the finer rules of Santa-culture) stared at me and said, "no you eat it." (in Spanish, ok)
I'm like...honey, it's super late, I'm not hungry and I can't eat all that sugar. You need to eat this or she's going to be on to us and the Big Lie that is Santa.
While my partner normally has an incredible appetite and needs no nudging to eat anything, he wasn't budging on this one. I think partly 'cas he didn't grow up with the Santa protocol thing.
So I, in a great and selfless act of love for Gladys, take the mug of chocolate and drink half of it down. Then we got to bed.
In the morning she is up around 6 a.m. and scouting out the loot. Satisfied that Santa did indeed visit, because he FINALLY left her gifts not bought by the clueless parental units. Then she looks at the untouched platter of food (I'm still amazed that Federico passed up the tamale) and said -- he didn't eat his food?! in a tone of disappointment and questioning.
Then I raise myself up from the bed and say...but look at the mug. She did and gasped - he drank the cocoa!
I told her that Santa was probably stuffed full of food from traveling 2 days around the globe and couldn't manage another bite. We saw him on the NORAD site and kept hearing about how kids were leaving him treats, so my lie nicely blended with the NORAD lie. Isn't nifty how this global conspiracy kinda gels?
I laid back down smiling and relieved.
The things we do for love.
So after "Santa" aka Federico got back from Fred Myers with the loot; she collapased asleep with cookie crumbs on her lips...and we needed to set up the scene of the crime. aka the Christmas tree and the loot. He went down to the garage to retreive the presents. I hobbled over to scribble "To Gladys from Santa" in some quivering Santa writing. He set up cookies (what she had left of them), a tamale (this is a MEXICAN household he is visiting, after all) and some Mexican hot chocolate. It was past midnight.
I stared at him and the array of food and told him - you need to eat that stuff.
Federico (who is Mexican and doesn't get the finer rules of Santa-culture) stared at me and said, "no you eat it." (in Spanish, ok)
I'm like...honey, it's super late, I'm not hungry and I can't eat all that sugar. You need to eat this or she's going to be on to us and the Big Lie that is Santa.
While my partner normally has an incredible appetite and needs no nudging to eat anything, he wasn't budging on this one. I think partly 'cas he didn't grow up with the Santa protocol thing.
So I, in a great and selfless act of love for Gladys, take the mug of chocolate and drink half of it down. Then we got to bed.
In the morning she is up around 6 a.m. and scouting out the loot. Satisfied that Santa did indeed visit, because he FINALLY left her gifts not bought by the clueless parental units. Then she looks at the untouched platter of food (I'm still amazed that Federico passed up the tamale) and said -- he didn't eat his food?! in a tone of disappointment and questioning.
Then I raise myself up from the bed and say...but look at the mug. She did and gasped - he drank the cocoa!
I told her that Santa was probably stuffed full of food from traveling 2 days around the globe and couldn't manage another bite. We saw him on the NORAD site and kept hearing about how kids were leaving him treats, so my lie nicely blended with the NORAD lie. Isn't nifty how this global conspiracy kinda gels?
I laid back down smiling and relieved.
The things we do for love.
Doctor visit
So today was my weekly doctor's visit. It is my most social outing of the entire week.
It is my chance to hobble around in public, thereby feeling (publicly) quite disabled. I remember thinking the idea of tooling around in a wheelchair (which some able-bodied people do) to experience the world from the perspective of a disabled person was a good idea. Creepy but useful. Like that person who went around in black-face so they could experience racism. I definitely think it should be required for everyone (not the blackface). Using a walker or wheelchair gives you insight into the seemingly little things (like a curb) that can stop a person from entering a building or moving around in the world. I have a newfound love of ramps now, and curbs/steps are my enemy. Since disability (temp or permanent) can come to anyone, and certainly is likely for many old people -- it worth getting a taste. Develop some empathy. Scare you silly. Whatever.
My slowness and awkwardness in moving around able-bodied people is frustrating, and I feel like I engender a mixture of sympathy and some distance (like give her some room....), and I'm sure pity too. When I came out of the doctor's office, his waiting room was full of post-operative patients in surgical boots, and I felt like saying -- "my tribe." We all have this common bond, albeit temporary. They understand the challenges of moving around, taking a shower, the pain...When I see people jogging it makes me so jealous. I think, that was my tribe. I miss that one. That will be my tribe again.
So besides all the feelings that come up, I got my stitches out (that hurt) and am starting to do range of motion (ROM from here on out) exercises, i.e. I get to move my foot some. Right now it itches like crazy and kinda hurts, which I chalk up to all the activity of my day. I have proudly been 3 weeks w/o any pain meds of any kind.
The doctor is happy with my healing. Bones are growing. I just need to do my ROM everyday. My doctor will put me through those ROM paces each Monday, and he knows if you are naughty or nice by how much ROM movement one has or doesn't. The assistant advised to take a few advil before each visit. He's that kinda guy. Fun.
I guess I could take a photo or video of my foot with the lovely scar and upload it to my blog. It seems people share EVERYTHING nowadays. But I won't. It is gross, and I don't see the need to share that with the whole frigging planet.
It is my chance to hobble around in public, thereby feeling (publicly) quite disabled. I remember thinking the idea of tooling around in a wheelchair (which some able-bodied people do) to experience the world from the perspective of a disabled person was a good idea. Creepy but useful. Like that person who went around in black-face so they could experience racism. I definitely think it should be required for everyone (not the blackface). Using a walker or wheelchair gives you insight into the seemingly little things (like a curb) that can stop a person from entering a building or moving around in the world. I have a newfound love of ramps now, and curbs/steps are my enemy. Since disability (temp or permanent) can come to anyone, and certainly is likely for many old people -- it worth getting a taste. Develop some empathy. Scare you silly. Whatever.
My slowness and awkwardness in moving around able-bodied people is frustrating, and I feel like I engender a mixture of sympathy and some distance (like give her some room....), and I'm sure pity too. When I came out of the doctor's office, his waiting room was full of post-operative patients in surgical boots, and I felt like saying -- "my tribe." We all have this common bond, albeit temporary. They understand the challenges of moving around, taking a shower, the pain...When I see people jogging it makes me so jealous. I think, that was my tribe. I miss that one. That will be my tribe again.
So besides all the feelings that come up, I got my stitches out (that hurt) and am starting to do range of motion (ROM from here on out) exercises, i.e. I get to move my foot some. Right now it itches like crazy and kinda hurts, which I chalk up to all the activity of my day. I have proudly been 3 weeks w/o any pain meds of any kind.
The doctor is happy with my healing. Bones are growing. I just need to do my ROM everyday. My doctor will put me through those ROM paces each Monday, and he knows if you are naughty or nice by how much ROM movement one has or doesn't. The assistant advised to take a few advil before each visit. He's that kinda guy. Fun.
I guess I could take a photo or video of my foot with the lovely scar and upload it to my blog. It seems people share EVERYTHING nowadays. But I won't. It is gross, and I don't see the need to share that with the whole frigging planet.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Prisoners in our midst
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/27/us/27detain.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
Highly recommend this NYT article and video which explores the dark underbelly of US immigration policy - the criminalization of immigrants and the fact that that some are making lots of money off imprisioning undocumented people, roughly 500,000 last year alone. These people lack the basic rights that criminal suspects have (like making a single phone call or representation by an attorney), and some have even died in custody due to untreated medical conditions.
The journalist titles this an “immigrant gold rush” that turned the private prison industry from bust to boom. Across the country, starting in Texas in the 1980s, prison companies built jail cells on speculation as they rushed to cash in on the war on drugs. They overbuilt; abuse scandals and escapes soured many states on private prisons, and by the late 1990s, as competition for inmates increased, the companies’ stock was suffering.
Then 9/11 and the criminalization of undocumented people happended, which now helps fill those prison beds. In fact our country leads the world in terms of the number of residents we lock up. We have 2.3 million people behind bars. China (with a population 4x ours) only has 1.6 million people incarcerated. This International Herald article provides a good overview:
http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/04/23/america/23prison.php
Ultimately our punitive treatment of immigrants and others means that we are pouring resources into building prisons and jailing people, rather than looking to the root issues that cause people to immigrate or commit crime. As a country, I think we need to have a real conversation about how we spend our resources.
What does it mean when a nation locks up so many of its people?
Highly recommend this NYT article and video which explores the dark underbelly of US immigration policy - the criminalization of immigrants and the fact that that some are making lots of money off imprisioning undocumented people, roughly 500,000 last year alone. These people lack the basic rights that criminal suspects have (like making a single phone call or representation by an attorney), and some have even died in custody due to untreated medical conditions.
The journalist titles this an “immigrant gold rush” that turned the private prison industry from bust to boom. Across the country, starting in Texas in the 1980s, prison companies built jail cells on speculation as they rushed to cash in on the war on drugs. They overbuilt; abuse scandals and escapes soured many states on private prisons, and by the late 1990s, as competition for inmates increased, the companies’ stock was suffering.
Then 9/11 and the criminalization of undocumented people happended, which now helps fill those prison beds. In fact our country leads the world in terms of the number of residents we lock up. We have 2.3 million people behind bars. China (with a population 4x ours) only has 1.6 million people incarcerated. This International Herald article provides a good overview:
http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/04/23/america/23prison.php
Ultimately our punitive treatment of immigrants and others means that we are pouring resources into building prisons and jailing people, rather than looking to the root issues that cause people to immigrate or commit crime. As a country, I think we need to have a real conversation about how we spend our resources.
What does it mean when a nation locks up so many of its people?
Friday, December 26, 2008
What I'm reading today
One of the biggest highlights of this extended recuperation has been the time to read. I'm been going through a pile of books, which you can see in my "LibraryThing" feature to the right.
Right now I'm reading something a book that weaves together a number of topics that are fascinating to me - baths, water, spiritualilty, herbalism, and traditional medicine. The book is titled:
Spiritual Bathing: Healing traditions and rituals from around the world. It is a beautiful coffee-table book (only in paperback) full of lucious photos of pools, water, flowers and people..It is fascinating to see how different religious traditions (whether monotheistic or not) all incorporate the concept of the sacred water and cleansing. Rosita Arvigo, one of the authors and an herbalist) provides "recipes" for bathing rituals that reflect everything from the Jewish mikvah to Mayan baths.
Right now I can't take a proper bath, but take a shower in a chair with my foot propped out of the tub. I have a new appreciation for being able to submerge your whole body in water...whether in a bathtub, sea, or jacuzzi. Submerging my body in water happens to be one of my favorite things in the world. Hot springs, ocean, public pools - I love water.
This book is giving me lots of ideas for future baths that incorporate healing, and spirituality....using flowers and herbs from the garden come spring and summer (some from those seeds I just ordered!). After a long winter and a healing foot, these baths will be just what I need....
Gluten-free in Portland
Well, in my continuing saga of surgical recovery I thought I should share a few things about food and the art of healing. My doctor suggested I follow an anti-inflammatory diet, which is essential the antithesis of what your average American eats. No wheat, no fried foods, no dairy, no peanuts, no sugar, organic meat in small amounts, etc. etc. I've done a somewhat good job of sticking to this way of eating, with a couple of lapses (it is Christmas!). I've said good-bye to my beloved wheat bread and now eat brown rice bread. Sugar is always the hardest thing to eliminate, but with a gallon of agave syrup we are doing pretty good. I do miss cheese, and I have not found any decent vegetarian replacement for the real thing.
However, wheat - you have met your match! The one major area of discovery has been the realm of gluten-free foods and diets. First I read the blog of the Gluten Free Girl and got her book (highly recommend it). Nanci and Yves brought over some great gluten-free brownies last night, and they were as yummy as any I've eaten.
Portland is a hot-bed of healthy eating options, and I came upon this listing of gluten-free and vegan bakeries. I've already explored the delights of Sweetpea Bakery, and you will never believe their stuff doesn't have eggs or milk. Nanci raves about New Cascadia. Once I'm mobile again I will start exploring the others. Maybe I'll do some kind of walking tour, so I can burn off the calories that will be consumed? Here are the ones I'm going to visit....
Dovetail Bakery: Special-order vegan holiday pies and tarts, including chocolate tart with salted candied pistachios, $20; double crust pear and cranberry pie, $20; apple and pine nut tarte tatin, $15; traditional pumpkin pie, $15. Pick up or delivery available within Portland ($6 for home delivery); call 503-288-8839 to order; dovetailbakery.blogspot.com
Black Sheep Bakery: This vegan bakery offers a variety of baked goods and wedding cakes year-round, but seasonal treats include apple-pear pie, pumpkin custard pie and hazelnut-chocolate-cream tart; $14.95 each. 523 N.E. 19th Ave.; 503-517-5762; and 833 S.W. Main St., 503-473-8534; blacksheepbakery.com
New Cascadia Traditional: In addition to the year-round selection of cookies, brownies and mini cupcakes, this gluten-free bakery makes seasonal items such as orange-currant loaf, chocolate-cranberry bread, coffee cake, apricot-cranberry tart, holiday cakes and gift sets. Prices vary. 2120 N.W. Glisan St.; 503-887-4392; newcascadiatraditional.com
Piece of Cake: Wide assortment of vegan, wheat-free vegan, gluten-free and sugar-free cakes, cookies and desserts. Any of the bakery's desserts can be ordered with holiday decorations. Selections include gluten-free lemon-pineapple-ginger cake, vegan carrot loaf and vegan wheat-free double-fudge chocolate cake. Prices vary. 8306 S.E. 17th Ave., 503-234-9445; pieceofcakebakery.net
http://www.oregonlive.com/foodday/index.ssf/2008/12/glutenfree_or_vegan_treats_let.html
However, wheat - you have met your match! The one major area of discovery has been the realm of gluten-free foods and diets. First I read the blog of the Gluten Free Girl and got her book (highly recommend it). Nanci and Yves brought over some great gluten-free brownies last night, and they were as yummy as any I've eaten.
Portland is a hot-bed of healthy eating options, and I came upon this listing of gluten-free and vegan bakeries. I've already explored the delights of Sweetpea Bakery, and you will never believe their stuff doesn't have eggs or milk. Nanci raves about New Cascadia. Once I'm mobile again I will start exploring the others. Maybe I'll do some kind of walking tour, so I can burn off the calories that will be consumed? Here are the ones I'm going to visit....
Dovetail Bakery: Special-order vegan holiday pies and tarts, including chocolate tart with salted candied pistachios, $20; double crust pear and cranberry pie, $20; apple and pine nut tarte tatin, $15; traditional pumpkin pie, $15. Pick up or delivery available within Portland ($6 for home delivery); call 503-288-8839 to order; dovetailbakery.blogspot.com
Black Sheep Bakery: This vegan bakery offers a variety of baked goods and wedding cakes year-round, but seasonal treats include apple-pear pie, pumpkin custard pie and hazelnut-chocolate-cream tart; $14.95 each. 523 N.E. 19th Ave.; 503-517-5762; and 833 S.W. Main St., 503-473-8534; blacksheepbakery.com
New Cascadia Traditional: In addition to the year-round selection of cookies, brownies and mini cupcakes, this gluten-free bakery makes seasonal items such as orange-currant loaf, chocolate-cranberry bread, coffee cake, apricot-cranberry tart, holiday cakes and gift sets. Prices vary. 2120 N.W. Glisan St.; 503-887-4392; newcascadiatraditional.com
Piece of Cake: Wide assortment of vegan, wheat-free vegan, gluten-free and sugar-free cakes, cookies and desserts. Any of the bakery's desserts can be ordered with holiday decorations. Selections include gluten-free lemon-pineapple-ginger cake, vegan carrot loaf and vegan wheat-free double-fudge chocolate cake. Prices vary. 8306 S.E. 17th Ave., 503-234-9445; pieceofcakebakery.net
http://www.oregonlive.com/foodday/index.ssf/2008/12/glutenfree_or_vegan_treats_let.html
TGIF
Well one thing about being stuck in the house for 3 weeks is that the significance of Friday or weekends becomes mute. Kinda of like a vacation.
My sister and her partner came over last night and brought a very delicious dinner....we had a good time catching up, talking and moaning over our aches and pains together. Her back is out, so she moves like an old lady. I'm walking around in a long nightgown and use a walker, so I look like an old lady. I guess we are getting a little foretaste of old age. Yikes.
I'm sure the stores are mobbed today. Maybe that will help the poor economy. I'm reading economist's Paul Krugman's blog (see the blog listing on the right side). Some European countries are already in a depression, which is sobering reading. I've become extremely well-informed about such things. I just wish I understood economic theory. I dated an economist for about 5 years, and the 2 things I learned were: trade is good and the President has far less power over our national economy than voters realize. Neither pieces of info are terribly useful right now. They also fail to explain the crazy crashing sounds on Wall Street. Bank failures and investments made out of bad mortages. I can add it to the long list of things I wish I'd learned in school, which includes: financial planning, public speaking, real history (not the shit that Christopher Columbus was some benevolent Italian sailor who got lost), math for the real world (understanding statistics, for one), etc. etc.
I guess I can take this opportunity to plug the many fine features of my blog, like the listing of other cool blogs I like to read. There is something for everyone. Gardening blogs, cooking blogs with recipes, a local birder's blog , a humor and satire blog....check 'em out. The local gardening and birder blogs have great pixs of the snowstorm, which makes up for my lack of them.
The playlist is also quite long and juicy. I'm sure you are also sick of hearing the opening song, so just hit the forward button to see if there is something more to your liking. I've got James Taylor, Peter Gabriel and lots of other music to enjoy.
My sister and her partner came over last night and brought a very delicious dinner....we had a good time catching up, talking and moaning over our aches and pains together. Her back is out, so she moves like an old lady. I'm walking around in a long nightgown and use a walker, so I look like an old lady. I guess we are getting a little foretaste of old age. Yikes.
I'm sure the stores are mobbed today. Maybe that will help the poor economy. I'm reading economist's Paul Krugman's blog (see the blog listing on the right side). Some European countries are already in a depression, which is sobering reading. I've become extremely well-informed about such things. I just wish I understood economic theory. I dated an economist for about 5 years, and the 2 things I learned were: trade is good and the President has far less power over our national economy than voters realize. Neither pieces of info are terribly useful right now. They also fail to explain the crazy crashing sounds on Wall Street. Bank failures and investments made out of bad mortages. I can add it to the long list of things I wish I'd learned in school, which includes: financial planning, public speaking, real history (not the shit that Christopher Columbus was some benevolent Italian sailor who got lost), math for the real world (understanding statistics, for one), etc. etc.
I guess I can take this opportunity to plug the many fine features of my blog, like the listing of other cool blogs I like to read. There is something for everyone. Gardening blogs, cooking blogs with recipes, a local birder's blog , a humor and satire blog....check 'em out. The local gardening and birder blogs have great pixs of the snowstorm, which makes up for my lack of them.
The playlist is also quite long and juicy. I'm sure you are also sick of hearing the opening song, so just hit the forward button to see if there is something more to your liking. I've got James Taylor, Peter Gabriel and lots of other music to enjoy.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Bread of life
This is a neat article about where our Holy Communion wafers come from...
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/25/business/smallbusiness/25sbiz.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/25/business/smallbusiness/25sbiz.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Santa has arrived
So this is my first Christmas with Gladys, and it is increible to be around the insane and delirious excitement of a child waiting for Santa, who was in Seattle and coming southward according to NORAD satelites around 11 p.m. Sure beats tracking the movement of nuclear warheads, don't ya' think?
Gladys was literally screaming with excitement and informed me that she couldn't possibly sleep. Her mouth is packed with the cookies that we got for Santa (he does have a few on a plate).
This comes after a tearful heart-to-heart we had earlier today about the existence of Santa and why he never brings her gifts. She tearfully informed me that only her parents/step-parents/aunts/uncles get her gifts, which translates into her not being good enough for his gifts. Gosh - I was stunned to hear this and quickly fabricated a rather random explanation that didn't totally satisfy her. I said that family members consult with Santa in a partnership, so that he can focus on getting gifts for poor children whose parents cannot afford any presents. She said - so you actually talk to Santa. I said yes, we sure do! It only takes one ridiculous fabrication and then you are in deep.
Well, luckily "Santa" went shopping before the stores closed, and he did leave her presents under the tree this year. Finally. Demonstrating that clueless grown-ups can sometimes get a clue.
Gladys was literally screaming with excitement and informed me that she couldn't possibly sleep. Her mouth is packed with the cookies that we got for Santa (he does have a few on a plate).
This comes after a tearful heart-to-heart we had earlier today about the existence of Santa and why he never brings her gifts. She tearfully informed me that only her parents/step-parents/aunts/uncles get her gifts, which translates into her not being good enough for his gifts. Gosh - I was stunned to hear this and quickly fabricated a rather random explanation that didn't totally satisfy her. I said that family members consult with Santa in a partnership, so that he can focus on getting gifts for poor children whose parents cannot afford any presents. She said - so you actually talk to Santa. I said yes, we sure do! It only takes one ridiculous fabrication and then you are in deep.
Well, luckily "Santa" went shopping before the stores closed, and he did leave her presents under the tree this year. Finally. Demonstrating that clueless grown-ups can sometimes get a clue.
Merry Christmas - Feliz Navidad
I want to wish everyone who reads this blog (you know who you are!) a very blessed Christmas.
A big hug to my family back in AZ -- the whole crew -- who I am thinking about and missing lots. Enjoy the sunshine and warmth, Mass, the carols (I might not sing much, but I do love listening to them), and the boys. I'm sending them really mushy hugs that are an embarrassment for any male over the age of 6. Sorry. I can't resist.
Following Santa with NORAD
So now I've seen EVERYTHING! NORAD has a Santa Tracker on the Internet, and you can literally following the jolly fellow with Google Maps and YouTube videos. Gladys is totally fascinated by this map and wants to continually check the site to see his progress.
http://www.noradsanta.org/en/home.html
http://www.noradsanta.org/en/home.html
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
My Christmas wish list
I don't believe in Santa anymore, but I do have my Christmas wish list, not in order of importance or preference.
1. That my foot heals completely, and I can easily walk up the trail at Forest Park without any pain! My bunion would start hurting at mile 4.
2. That the economic stimulus package is a huge success, and our battered economy revives in a way that is sustainable, rational, and just.
3. There is real immigration and health care reform, demonstrating that we have a functioning legislative branch afterall.
4. Our new rose bushes survive this weather and bloom in the spring.
5. That I get to spend some quality time with my family this coming year during our vacation - whenever that happens!
6. Last, but definitely not least, peace on earth....
What is on your list?
1. That my foot heals completely, and I can easily walk up the trail at Forest Park without any pain! My bunion would start hurting at mile 4.
2. That the economic stimulus package is a huge success, and our battered economy revives in a way that is sustainable, rational, and just.
3. There is real immigration and health care reform, demonstrating that we have a functioning legislative branch afterall.
4. Our new rose bushes survive this weather and bloom in the spring.
5. That I get to spend some quality time with my family this coming year during our vacation - whenever that happens!
6. Last, but definitely not least, peace on earth....
What is on your list?
Digging the Days of the Dead
We've got a foot of snow on the ground here, and it is a real winter wonderland outside. Granted, I cannot go outside or walk on two feet yet, so my enjoyment is limited to staring out the window, watching people walk, x-ski, drive and play in it. A mixture of pleasure with envy. You can take for granted the simple act of walking or sliding in the snow. In some ways it reminds you who is really in control of the situation, God. When it comes right down to it, humans are pretty much at the mercy of a Higher Power that can slam you with a snowstorm, earthquake, illness, etc.
Maybe I'm getting all philosophical because I'm reading this book "Digging the Days of the Dead," which deconstructs the Mexican ritual of the Days of the Dead, which is all about the Higher Power and Death. After an amazing trip a few years ago to Michoacan to experience the Days of the Dead, I prepared my great-grandmother's grave in the traditional way and saw the whole ritual in action. It really opened my eyes, heart and mind to a more Mexican way of looking at death. To learn more, here are two web sites to get you going:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead
http://www.dayofthedead.com/
For Mexicans the dividing line between the living and dead is thin and becomes non-existent on these special days. The celebration is moving, hopeful, fun, ancient and yet very much contemporary. I now love creating an ofrenda each year to welcome the dead, and the sense that the dead are with us in a very routine way..coming to eat and drink from the altar in our homes. The creativity of the ofrenda is also inspiring, as I try to create a space that is as beautiful as possible...with an artful arrangement of flowers, fruit, pan de muerto, skulls and mementos that reflect their lives. This ritual gives you the space and permission to remember and reflect on our loved ones who have died. Instead of the dead being relegated to the cemetery, they come into our homes...we are reunited for a time, as a family. Again, it is that blurry dividing line that fades away between the living and the dead.
For mobile and modern people who live far away from family burial sites, keeping this tradition alive is challenging. The book points out that this tradition tends to die out as Mexicans migrate to urban areas or to the USA, and that at its heart, this tradition is one rooted in rural indigenous Mexican culture. I suspected this, but I don't think I got that fully until I read Garciagodoy's rather harsh class analysis. I definitely can see that my own Mexican grandparents abandoned the tradition when they moved to the US. I never saw a calaca or ofrenda in their home, although they both came from rural areas where this tradition flourishes. My Mexican friends here in Portland (most are from rural traditional villages) buy the sweet bread called "pan de muerto", but do not have ofrendas in their homes.
I would like to ask them all - why did you stop celebrating this ritual? What was the tipping point or deciding factor in saying no to an altar? Was it embarrassment or shame at trying to explain it to any Anglo visitors? Was it too much effort in a busy Americanized lifestyle where work consumes so much of the day? Was it just too painful to try to recreate and remember a tradition so tied to your faraway home land (the burial site is a big part of the ritual in Mexico)?
Can the immigrant's heart only bear so much nostaglia and remembering?
Maybe I'm getting all philosophical because I'm reading this book "Digging the Days of the Dead," which deconstructs the Mexican ritual of the Days of the Dead, which is all about the Higher Power and Death. After an amazing trip a few years ago to Michoacan to experience the Days of the Dead, I prepared my great-grandmother's grave in the traditional way and saw the whole ritual in action. It really opened my eyes, heart and mind to a more Mexican way of looking at death. To learn more, here are two web sites to get you going:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead
http://www.dayofthedead.com/
For Mexicans the dividing line between the living and dead is thin and becomes non-existent on these special days. The celebration is moving, hopeful, fun, ancient and yet very much contemporary. I now love creating an ofrenda each year to welcome the dead, and the sense that the dead are with us in a very routine way..coming to eat and drink from the altar in our homes. The creativity of the ofrenda is also inspiring, as I try to create a space that is as beautiful as possible...with an artful arrangement of flowers, fruit, pan de muerto, skulls and mementos that reflect their lives. This ritual gives you the space and permission to remember and reflect on our loved ones who have died. Instead of the dead being relegated to the cemetery, they come into our homes...we are reunited for a time, as a family. Again, it is that blurry dividing line that fades away between the living and the dead.
For mobile and modern people who live far away from family burial sites, keeping this tradition alive is challenging. The book points out that this tradition tends to die out as Mexicans migrate to urban areas or to the USA, and that at its heart, this tradition is one rooted in rural indigenous Mexican culture. I suspected this, but I don't think I got that fully until I read Garciagodoy's rather harsh class analysis. I definitely can see that my own Mexican grandparents abandoned the tradition when they moved to the US. I never saw a calaca or ofrenda in their home, although they both came from rural areas where this tradition flourishes. My Mexican friends here in Portland (most are from rural traditional villages) buy the sweet bread called "pan de muerto", but do not have ofrendas in their homes.
I would like to ask them all - why did you stop celebrating this ritual? What was the tipping point or deciding factor in saying no to an altar? Was it embarrassment or shame at trying to explain it to any Anglo visitors? Was it too much effort in a busy Americanized lifestyle where work consumes so much of the day? Was it just too painful to try to recreate and remember a tradition so tied to your faraway home land (the burial site is a big part of the ritual in Mexico)?
Can the immigrant's heart only bear so much nostaglia and remembering?
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Caroline for Senate?
Ok, I basically think that it is a bit naive (and perhaps arrogant) that Caroline Kennedy suddenly decides she wants to be in politics and has her heart set on the NY Senate seat. I think she should shoot for the local school board and go from there. I'm definitely of the mind that political dynasties (even the beloved Kennedy clan) aren't in sync with a democratic republic.
All that aside, I came across this great interview with Caroline and a young reporter. If he really wrote his own questions I think he needs some airtime on one of the networks. I would LOVE to see him interview Obama (it sounds like he's over Biden).
Guaranteed to make you smile or your money back.
All that aside, I came across this great interview with Caroline and a young reporter. If he really wrote his own questions I think he needs some airtime on one of the networks. I would LOVE to see him interview Obama (it sounds like he's over Biden).
Guaranteed to make you smile or your money back.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Pumpkin pix
Ok, here is a pix of the lovely pumpkiness I just ordered online. I realize that this is very much "out of season," but oh well. As much as snow is very seasonal and pretty, for gardeners the fall rocks in Portland.
A big snowstorm
For Portland. For Michigan or Boston this is normal winter weather.
I'm sitting here with my foot up, watching the snow come down all day. It is almost 5pm and still hasn't let up. It is beautiful and very Christmasy. Even for someone who has vowed to never live in an area that has snowstorms again. I saw some guy cross-country skiiing in the street (sorry folks, but you are just going to have to use your imagination!). No woman in her right mind is going to run to the window in a walker with a camera or cell phone in hand.
In a fit of total insanity or boredom, I went and bought a bunch of seeds for next year's garden online from Renee's Garden seeds (I love her seeds!!). Flower seeds mainly - more of the things that were really a hit (zinnias, sunflowers and signet marigolds) and some new stuff to try out. Cinderella's carriage pumpkin (heirloom seeds from France) is totally gorgeous. Someone was growing it in their front-yard this fall, and I said, wow, that is like a work of art. Our pumpkin plant was a big success in producing fruit, but I never would call the fruit sculptural works of art.
Any local PDX friend who wants to partake of the seed purchase (I can never plant all the seeds that come in a packet), make sure to visit in the spring with some envelopes. I love sharing.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Holiday music
I don't know about you, but holidays bring up all kinds of stuff. Memories both happy and not. Thoughts about loved ones who have passed. Soon to be ex-husbands. Maybe there are some uber-well-adjusted people who just breeze through Christmas/Solistice/Hannukah without a backward glance, and bless those amnesiacs. I'm looking backwards fair amount this year.
I was expecting to be very pregnant this December, and I'm not. My almost ex has moved back to Mexico. While we are on friendly terms, we are getting a divorce.
One of my favorite ways to look backward (or wallow) is through music. I loaded up my playlist with a bunch of songs that take me back....the mariachi, Mexican and Caribbean music are one of the legacies my grandparents passed to me. Gracias y may they rest in Paz. The babies never born have their songs - "I grieve," "Never die young," and "You can close your eyes." My ex's song is "Camisa Negra," a song that was big in Chiapas (and everywhere else in the Spanish-speaking world) when we got married there. I can imagine them all in heaven having a merry time together, except my ex, who is still alive and doesn't believe in heaven.
So check out the playlist.
Think about the loved ones who aren't with you this holiday season. Hold them close.
I was expecting to be very pregnant this December, and I'm not. My almost ex has moved back to Mexico. While we are on friendly terms, we are getting a divorce.
One of my favorite ways to look backward (or wallow) is through music. I loaded up my playlist with a bunch of songs that take me back....the mariachi, Mexican and Caribbean music are one of the legacies my grandparents passed to me. Gracias y may they rest in Paz. The babies never born have their songs - "I grieve," "Never die young," and "You can close your eyes." My ex's song is "Camisa Negra," a song that was big in Chiapas (and everywhere else in the Spanish-speaking world) when we got married there. I can imagine them all in heaven having a merry time together, except my ex, who is still alive and doesn't believe in heaven.
So check out the playlist.
Think about the loved ones who aren't with you this holiday season. Hold them close.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Woo-woo healing or guided imagery
Ok, I should not call it woo-woo. It's research-based fact that using guided imagery helps people relax and heal faster.
It's funny, but most doctors pretty much focus on the task at hand, including my surgeon. Fixing the foot. They do not worry themselves about their patient's mental state or how that will impact the outcome of the surgery and recovery much. Which is too bad. Because it sure does.
I was doing fine with my decision to get surgery until a week before the Day, and then I quietly freaked out. I couldn't imagine voluntarily letting someone cut open my foot, cut my bones, move around ligaments and tendons. Was I crazy? How on earth do people voluntarily undergo surgery that is not for some life-threatening condition? I had visions of freaking out in the hospital and the nurses having to strap me down/scold me into submission. I also had this vision that my no-nonense surgeon would be disgusted by such a display of emotion/fear and call the whole thing off.
Fortunately I had already anticipated this and had put a couple of CDs on guided imagery on hold. They arrived the week before the surgery. Just in the nick of time. Ha, ha.
Seriously, the CDs share info on all the research about the benefits of guided imagery for healing. They also have 25 minute sessions where you relax and use your mind to imagine healing and relaxing imagery. It was amazing to see how much better I felt after just one session. You feel empowered and in control of one of your most powerful organs - your brain. I did it daily right up until the Day. In fact I was clutching my CD player right into the OR, and bless the doctors they let me take it in with me. I insisted. However with that IV sedation I don't remember the CD or anything else. I just remember them strapping onto a very narrow table and thinking, but guys, I'm calm and ready. No freaking out for me!
I'm doing it now, post-surgery, and I'm falling asleep before the end of the session. Which is a nice thing when my foot is hurting. The power of your mind is an amazing thing.
It's funny, but most doctors pretty much focus on the task at hand, including my surgeon. Fixing the foot. They do not worry themselves about their patient's mental state or how that will impact the outcome of the surgery and recovery much. Which is too bad. Because it sure does.
I was doing fine with my decision to get surgery until a week before the Day, and then I quietly freaked out. I couldn't imagine voluntarily letting someone cut open my foot, cut my bones, move around ligaments and tendons. Was I crazy? How on earth do people voluntarily undergo surgery that is not for some life-threatening condition? I had visions of freaking out in the hospital and the nurses having to strap me down/scold me into submission. I also had this vision that my no-nonense surgeon would be disgusted by such a display of emotion/fear and call the whole thing off.
Fortunately I had already anticipated this and had put a couple of CDs on guided imagery on hold. They arrived the week before the surgery. Just in the nick of time. Ha, ha.
Seriously, the CDs share info on all the research about the benefits of guided imagery for healing. They also have 25 minute sessions where you relax and use your mind to imagine healing and relaxing imagery. It was amazing to see how much better I felt after just one session. You feel empowered and in control of one of your most powerful organs - your brain. I did it daily right up until the Day. In fact I was clutching my CD player right into the OR, and bless the doctors they let me take it in with me. I insisted. However with that IV sedation I don't remember the CD or anything else. I just remember them strapping onto a very narrow table and thinking, but guys, I'm calm and ready. No freaking out for me!
I'm doing it now, post-surgery, and I'm falling asleep before the end of the session. Which is a nice thing when my foot is hurting. The power of your mind is an amazing thing.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Flying shoes and other disasters
So when I first saw the footage of those flying shoes coming at President Bush I laughed a lot. Actually that happened the second and third and fourth time I watched him ducking. It brings up everytime I've hurled or wanted to hurl something at the TV screen when the President (Bush, Baby Bush, or Reagan) speaks. My first thought was -- good for you, oh angry and determined thrower of shoes on behalf of millions of fellow angry people who would like to do the same thing. Imagine a million or so shoes coming at Bush. What an image! Later on I read that folks are having shoe-ins, so I'm not the only person with this rather wacky image of social protest out there.
But really, when the shoes landed, and the poor journalist is carted off to jail (and we know that time in an Iraqi jail does not mean your Geneva convention rights are going to be respected, the USA made sure of that, yes indeed.)...the sad reality is that the U.S. has unleashed terrible destruction and death amongst the Iraqi people for no justifiable reason (no WMD, no Osama, nada). Innocents die, and a country lies in ruins (the press reports that Iraq lacks basic infrastructure like electricity and running water for its population).
My laughter dies down quick when I think of what that angry journalist has seen in reporting on the war in his own land. I've seen just snippets in the NYT coverage and recoiled at the images of wounded children, desolate parents. I cannot imagine seeing such suffering up close, talking to those parents, seeing the wounded and dead.
Really my thought is -- may God forgive us, from Bush right down to each taxpayer. You and me.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Snowy Sunday
Well, we got our little snowstorm. Gladys and Federico went outside to play, and I stood at the window waving and being the target for snowballs. Lots of birds came to our feeder today....easily 30 or more. I love watching them....
Gladys and Federico brought the Christmas tree last night, and also a lot of handmade beaded jewelry from their library adventure. Gladys is very talented - she made 6 pieces in 2 hours, including a lovely necklace I'm wearing with lots of hearts.
Today we are going to decorate the tree and make a gingerbread house, which she loves doing. It is fun trying to create holiday traditions with her....this one is keeper. It is easy, affordable, and involves picking up a kit at TJ.
Gladys and Federico brought the Christmas tree last night, and also a lot of handmade beaded jewelry from their library adventure. Gladys is very talented - she made 6 pieces in 2 hours, including a lovely necklace I'm wearing with lots of hearts.
Today we are going to decorate the tree and make a gingerbread house, which she loves doing. It is fun trying to create holiday traditions with her....this one is keeper. It is easy, affordable, and involves picking up a kit at TJ.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Sleepy Saturday
Here is close-up of some flowers that were sent by my staff and arrived yesterday. My favorite color! Friday evening Gladys arrived, bringing with her all the craziness and joy that a 9 year old brings to any home. She has lots of questions about my foot - what did the doctor do to it and why? Why am I wearing the (surgical) shoe all the time? What does it/the pain feel like? It is always an eye-opening experience trying to explain something to a child that doesn't insult her intelligence, but doesn't get so overly technical or scary or overwhelm her with too many details. She threw out a great start for describing the pain. Is it like when your foot falls asleep and then when it wakes up? I was like, yeah, but worse, and it doesn't really stop.
For our bedtime story we read a sweet Christmas-themed book called "Angela and the Baby Jesus." Totally dear story written by the man who wrote "Angela's Ashes." I think it is the same Angela, but I haven't read that other book. I tend to resist reading books everyone else is reading or raving about until years after.
We made some great from-scratch pumpkin muffins with some pumpkins that grew in our garden (thanks to Debbie, who donated the start way back in the summer). We got about 6 lovely pumpkins from that little plant, which overtook a whole bed (or tried to) and then succumbed to powderly mildew and my overly agressive pruning efforts in the fall. Our chile plant is still happily in that bed, with a slew of chiles still to harvest. I like to harvest them red and hot, and by some miracle we haven't had a hard frost to kill it. Thank you Merciful One!
This was Federico's first attempt at baking, and so I sat in a chair and guided, coached and demonstrated. He did a great job, and the muffins are fabulous. Besides fresh pumpkin, they've got pecans and raisins. He is really a great cook, and boy, I am reaping the benefits of his skills right now. He also make a scrumpious pumpkin hummus. Mental note to grow another plant next spring.
They went off to a library program on making beaded jewelry right now (and to pick up my holds), so the house is quiet. I might take a nap, but Lord I don't know why I am tired?!? All I do is read, talk on the phone, Internet stuff, and eat. I am the total couch potato.
Here is the recipe for Spicy Pumpkin Hummus:
1 can of garbanzo beans with liquid
1-2 cups of fresh pumpkin puree or 1 can of the stuff
1 to 2 T. of tahini
lemon juice to taste
1 clove of garlic
salt to taste
olive oil to taste
cayenne pepper to taste
Smoked Spanish paprika as garnish
Put all the ingredients in a blender and blend until creamy (add bean water or plain water to get the right consistency). Add as much cayenne as you can handle.
Serve with warmed pita bread, veggies, just with a spoon or your fingers (okay, so that is a no-no, but we all do it, right?)
Friday, December 12, 2008
8 questions with moi!
What is your favorite book of all time?
A tie between Jane Erye and Wuthering Heights.
What is your favorite condiment?
Salsa made with roasted chiles on the comal and fresh summer tomatoes.
If you could travel anywhere on the planet, where would you go?
I'd like to take the train to/thru Patagonia with my sweetie and a few of my closest pals.
Best show you ever saw?
Peter Gabriel's So concert, back when I was in college. I'm still in love with that guy.
What is the best meal you ever ate?
So many great ones. Most memorable would be eating with a rural family in the Chaco desert in Paraguay. We rode a horse-driven cart to get to their place. It was like going back in time, and their generous spirit of hospitality to strangers....they gave what very little they had to share with us, and that moved me. Another was eating freshly caught lobster for breakfast on tiny island with the Cuna people in the Caribbean. Most beautiful setting for a meal, eating in a palapa looking out at the sea, and it was freshest breakfast I ever ate. To top it off I think I was wearing my bathing suit!
A tie between Jane Erye and Wuthering Heights.
What is your favorite condiment?
Salsa made with roasted chiles on the comal and fresh summer tomatoes.
If you could travel anywhere on the planet, where would you go?
I'd like to take the train to/thru Patagonia with my sweetie and a few of my closest pals.
Best show you ever saw?
Peter Gabriel's So concert, back when I was in college. I'm still in love with that guy.
What is the best meal you ever ate?
So many great ones. Most memorable would be eating with a rural family in the Chaco desert in Paraguay. We rode a horse-driven cart to get to their place. It was like going back in time, and their generous spirit of hospitality to strangers....they gave what very little they had to share with us, and that moved me. Another was eating freshly caught lobster for breakfast on tiny island with the Cuna people in the Caribbean. Most beautiful setting for a meal, eating in a palapa looking out at the sea, and it was freshest breakfast I ever ate. To top it off I think I was wearing my bathing suit!
Virgen de Guadalupe
Dec. 12 is a big day. It's a national holiday in Mexico, with 2 million people packed into a small area....ala Times Square. It is all about the appearance of the Virgen Maria to an Indian peasant on a hill. A brown Virgen.
We watched the Mass broadcast live on the Internet from the Basicilia at midnight, and then Federico went to St. Ana's church, which has an all night vigil so that people can come and adore their Virgencita on her day. At dawn they have mariachis, banda, a reenactment and later food for all. We were there last year, and it was incredibly packed.
The love, the faith, the affection people have for Her is palpable.
I remember being at the Villa (the area of the Basicilia, which includes the original church constructed in her honor, the bigger ugly new one, the hill where she appeared, and a big plaza) 4 years ago. I spent hours wandering around the area, learning, praying, watching....My dream is to return on Dec. 12 to witness the intensity of millions of pilgrims, coming from all over Mexico and the world. See the YouTube clip below to get a flavor.
There is really a whole lot of stuff constructed around the Virgen. Colonizers figured out that they needed to have religious figures that the oppressed majority could identify with and merge with their old deposed Gods and Goddesses. Make Catholicism more palatable. La Virgen is one of those old Goddesses, blended with the new faith. In a world turned upside down, She was (is) also the comfort and consolation of a people smashed by the destruction of their society - kings desposed, books burned, gods defiled, epidemics, enslavement. She provides hope where there was none, and a sign of God's love and compassion when the Church itself was brutal to its Indian converts and those who resisted conversion.
Viva la Virgen.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Welcome to my blog
With my foot healing from bunion surgery and a lot of time on my hands, I thought this is the opportunity to create a blog and keep friends and family updated about what I'm doing, thinking, reading....and also hear from you. I can share photos of my garden, favorite recipes, pixs from my journeys, etc. etc. Possibilities seem endless....
This lovely beach scene is from Manuel Antonio beach in Costa Rica. I was there over 13 years ago, and the image stuck in my head. It is even more beautiful than this photo can pull off....the mountain of trees meets the ocean. I remember floating in the warm bath-like water with my girlfriend Vicky thinking -- this was the most perfect union of two things - mountain and sea. I was doing guided imagery to get ready for my surgery, and you are supposed to think of a healing place that makes you feel happy/safe. This was the image I had in my head. It helped me chill out when I got the pre-surgery jitters.
Today was a good day. Father Chuck came by to give me Holy Communion in bed, which is yet another first. The surgery is just the start, I guess. My next door neighbor came over with a beautiful plant and homemade cookies. We've never been on great terms, and she said she wanted to be a better neighbor this coming year, and this was her start. I was kind of left speechless and all I could say was - you are very kind, thank you. Humbled by her gesture.
I've been listening to the band Jars of Clay's album "Redemption Songs," which is just beautiful and fitting for the season.
"The only way out is through." That is quote from Albert Camus that I came across today.
I think that quote really captures 2008 for me.
Through.
This lovely beach scene is from Manuel Antonio beach in Costa Rica. I was there over 13 years ago, and the image stuck in my head. It is even more beautiful than this photo can pull off....the mountain of trees meets the ocean. I remember floating in the warm bath-like water with my girlfriend Vicky thinking -- this was the most perfect union of two things - mountain and sea. I was doing guided imagery to get ready for my surgery, and you are supposed to think of a healing place that makes you feel happy/safe. This was the image I had in my head. It helped me chill out when I got the pre-surgery jitters.
Today was a good day. Father Chuck came by to give me Holy Communion in bed, which is yet another first. The surgery is just the start, I guess. My next door neighbor came over with a beautiful plant and homemade cookies. We've never been on great terms, and she said she wanted to be a better neighbor this coming year, and this was her start. I was kind of left speechless and all I could say was - you are very kind, thank you. Humbled by her gesture.
I've been listening to the band Jars of Clay's album "Redemption Songs," which is just beautiful and fitting for the season.
"The only way out is through." That is quote from Albert Camus that I came across today.
I think that quote really captures 2008 for me.
Through.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
