Start To Finish -And then DO It

Yesterday I cooked a lot of stuff.. It was time to replenish my "cupboard" and how I know that is the fact that three meals in a row had been peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,and had I not run put of bread it might have taken yet another round to get my attention. So meal time has again become a bright spot that punctuates my days of constant activity. I realize that I am most grateful to all of my projects that have so generously kept me busy and self satisfied this summer.

Speaking of projects. I did get around to tackling the sewing room which was a bit depressing for a time until I took up the challenge of finishing some of the ideas hanging midway between the enthusiasm of their conception and the dead end of running into a bit of a snag. I am pleased to report that the tea cozy made out of squares of felted sweater parts has been cleverly completed and installed on a tea pot and is cunning as Aunt Martie would say. And the bath mat made out of strips of different colored print and plain fabric tied onto a rectangle of monks cloth is currently half the size of its original intention but completely adequate owing to a gross miscalculation, and is not only in position at the shower door but has also been stepped out onto with wet feet. I have a nagging suspicion that once it is put into the wash it will have to apply for some other role in the domestic scene but at the moment I have no idea what that would be other than filler in some cob structure. So as a temporary new bit of decor I am enjoying it and preparing for the zen moment of it's passing on.

The next to swing into the finish line will be a zipper repair on a dress for Jame -for next summer. And after that -the dreaded job of selling extra bamboo flooring on Craig's list. The drudge is measuring it -well when I see it in writing I say "what's the big deal?" This blogging can be so illuminating! What a wierd concept "talk-to-yourself-therapy" possibly overheard by unknown passers by.

More updates to follow.

Where do young ground hogs gather?

I had the time of my life again today.
I got up early -always a good start to something I've been looking forward to, and followed map quest directions -made it even more like a entertainment, through beautiful country that I'd never seen before. There were lots of farms and everything looked lush and prosperous in spite of the dry spell we've been having. Maybe it was the thickened pre-percipitation air that gave everything a little topical moisturizing.

There were lots of new roads, many with peculiar names -my favorite was Ground Hog College Rd.

The occasion for enthusiasm was a medicinal herb workshop at a CSA near Deleware. The information was so exciting, and the people were more, previously unknown members of 'my group'. We each made an Herbarium which is a notebook with specimens of plants and their various parts taped to the pages rounded out by notes on their latin names, families, species, and uses, be that food, medicine, or poisin. These were all common wild plants that are probably mostly considered weeds. Many have been the basis of healing since the begining of time. As a matter of fact Alopathic medecine as we know it is only about a hundred years old. These plants were our first medecines. Some are even still used by pharmaceutical companies but many have been synthisized or in other ways altered form their original purity.

For lunch, we gathered lambs quarters and purslane, to be the basis of a salad. Flowers of chicory, nasturtium, and dandelion were added for color as well as nourishment. Peppermint leaves and queen ann's lace seeds were an optional condiments, along with soaked (lightly sprouted) almonds and sunflower seeds. It was quite delicious and thrilling to gather and prepare while sharing information from each other's experience.

On the way home, while in the foraging mood I responded with a screech of the brakes and a quickly applied turn signal, to the Highland Orchards sign, a place where you can pick your own fruit. I probably only saved 5 cents a pound over buying what was alresdy in their store but the time of my life continued as I plucked apples, peaches,and pears from the perfectly sized trees. They are not organic but they are definately fresh and local -gotta keep the orchard in business if they are ever to become organic. And besides IF we eat a fairly clean diet our liver can to filter out the toxins. Its all a mattere of volume and frequency.

Right now, mostly worn out, I am tempted to wish I had something fun to do. I do! the sewing room organizing! And tomorrow another movie -this one has more promise, it is about the view the angels had of Berlin during the war. It is an old one I've never heard of before. Oh and I forgot there is more work to do too -plastering and potting -fun!

Day Off

Well its always an adventure getting to the posting area, but today was much quicker but not without mystery.

The weather forecast repeated the same noncommital clouds and sun, with a possible stray shower without a hint of emotion or investment in the percentages, so I dawdled a while putting together a spartan pb&j and iced decaf together with an old sheet, a beach towel, and a personal sized picnic cloth, and finally tossed in a chair and umbrella and chancing it, headed for the beach with an unabridged book on tape for the nearly 2 hour trip.

This was to be a magic trip I knew because when I stopped at the bank a quick check revealed I had more money in my account than I expected. Just a few miles down the road when I stopped to get some mouchoires I had my second serendipitous encounter. On my way out of the store a large African American man with a large diamond like stone in his ear parked next to my car greeted me from his car, with the usual. I, in turn, inquired after his well-being which yielded an invitation to ask more whereupon he gratefully shared that his mom had just recieved the kidney she'd been waiting for for months. Happy to be drawn in to this man's joy and a glimpse of his inner life I lingered in wishing him and his mother well and finally resumed my journey, marveling all the while at the magic of connection between strangers.

Once on the turnpike the usual thoughts of this being the perfect time for my car to have some kind of a breakdown found their way to the front of my mind. Would it be certain death or just an expensive inconvenience? The smarter part of me mercifully intervened and held up a picture of the reruns of this scenario calling it nonsense, the habitual companion of my innocent enthusiasm.

The drive was uncomplicated, the gas tank held out for our favorite Wawa in NJ where you don't have to pump your own gas and the price was good. The station is located at the same exit as Seasonal World -a store that I more than once have thought would, at this time of year, have a sale on beach items -this time I was looking for one of those simple little cabana items to replace the umbrella that too often poses a threat to other bathers in cases of windy weather. And again, when I reached the door it was clear that they had moved into the next season already as Halloween costumes and a notice saying closed for inventory reminded me to update my files and forget about Seasonal World in the future.

The clouds were begining to alternate with sun as I turned off the highway and entered the town of Avon-by-the-Sea. The crowd looked sparce and I began to hope for one of the prime parking spots right at the beach. The magic resumed as I began my "a parking place is opening up for me now" routine complete with utter certainty that no one would be leaving those coveted spots. Just as I slapped myself around a little on theat one just ahead of me (well actually just ahead of the person in front of me) some one was backing out. I took note of the striking coincidence of my momentary laps of belief and the just missed it timing I had witnessed. Fortified by that bracing lesson I held fast to the reality that what I wanted was there for me. Lo and behold there it was, ten seconds later, the perfect spot with that coveted sea side view for free -all day.

Things kept on going like that, the air was pleasantly cool, the sun came and went, I had a great magazine, talked to a few strangers, didn't burn myself, saw a family who wasn't afraid to have their little boy run naked on the beach, and made it home in time to take up my brother and sister-in-law on their invitation to a scrumptious dinner. It was a restorative day of collecting treasures.

The Little Sister Bites

Phew! I'm exausted! It just took me an hour to get back into this blog. This is really testing my fortitude for diary healing.

I'm rethinking going to the movies just because I can. I went tonight for some diversion. I ate a peanut butter and fruit spread sandwich with an iced decaf to go (from therefrigerator at home), on the way. Leaving barely enough time to go straight there. So I dashed into the library to pick up the audio book I had ordered, then raced into the Food Hole (our local independent Kimberton Whole Foods) to exchange some goats milk yogurt that had not reached yogurt status, for some good old Seven Stars cow yogurt, and a stand of celery (looking robust and crisp), and arrived at the Colonial Theater just in time. I didn't even get my customary parking spot on the street -had to go to the lot out back, but still I made it.

I should have been tipped off when I got to the concession stand to get the next course of my evening meal, and Scott said "I didn't have you figured for this movie", as he reached for my signature snow caps. "no snow caps tonight...I need another vegetable to compliment my sandwich -pop corn please" I lamely told him that I had heard something about this movie and I wanted to see for my self.

I went up to the balcony to sit with my mother, and by that I mean to sit in the seat that sports her name, mentioning that we gave it to the theater so that she could dip in from eternity at any time and check out the earthly entertainment scene.

Well not only did the movie fail to launch in the catagory of earthly entertainment but, to go along with my being embarrassed for the actors and myself for being there, I stretched my discomfort a half a mile further (not being one to under do) and realized that once again my innocent little pea sized sense of the world had failed to alert me when I selected this upper level vantage point for my mother, that people go up there to be alone, with a date -not just for the thrill of being in the balcony (like I do). So not only is someone else usually sitting in or too close to the seat I'm headed for but I am either the only single up there or on the occasion that I go with a woman friend, could be mistaken for bing on a date myself.

All this is to alert you, and I'm sure most of you already know this, that Strangers With Candy is Amy Sedaris taking flagrant advantage of her hilarious brother's good name to get into my personal space, and I want my evening back. Heck, I toyed with the idea of rearranging the sewing room. The only way to erase my error in judgment would be to take on the sewing room now, at 30 minutes past midnight, and in the morning pretend that nothing else had happened happened, I'd have to make something up about how that glorious arbor of celery and an unopened tub of yogurt ended up in my fridge and how come there were wierd little popcorn skins stuck in my back teeth?

There is an ant with a see-through posterior section canvassing the keys as I type. I know him from the other day. He looks like he's going up to the balcony as he traverses each row of letters from bottom to top over and over again. Is he mocking me or just another seeker trying to round out his work day? Maybe I'll take him to the beach with me tomorrow -we both could use a refund.

The Best Things (the best things)

Jamie, my youngest daughter is a hyperbolist, and by that I mean she has infected me with an appreciation for life that leads me to report to her and others who would understand, on the occasions when "I am having the time of my life", or "the best day of my life". She began reporting in this way and I love the mind expanding thought that one can experience these events with astonishing regularity. Debunking the myth that 'the best' is rare, reserved for the few (heck, the one) and even unattainable by the ordinary person.

Yesterday was quite the opposite for at least several hours, actually while I was preparing food for friends who were coming that evening for a birthday party. The misery had nothing to do with the impending party and I tried to quell my anxiety each time I added a new ingredient into my banquet of dishes because the Macrobotics say that what ever you are feeling when you are cooking will ultimately end up in the food and you will know this by the direction the conversation takes after the meal. As far as I could tell I didn't infect my guests with my personal disturbances. And actually after the meal, whether it was them or my own efforts to cook with antivenom, I was feeling much better which led to today becoming "the time of my life".

It started out with the daily walk to the mailbox with Patty my 16 year old spry, faithful, curley, four legged companion. And by daily I mean on the days when we fit it in. I had to walk off my party food to prepare for the next "best thing of the day", the most delightful brunch invitation from two dear cousins. It was such a lovely occasion full of substance, and caring. These cousins are real treasures, inspiring in their efforts to lead a balanced life as well as their genuine interest in the welfare of others. They have been faced with some big "what ifs?" and emerged choosing to be in charge of making life full of the important things. Our meal at an upscale buffet allowed us to engage in a common favorite activity while catering to our individual tastes of the moment (for me today was about blintzes, pizza, pancakes and bacon but not a single shrimp, next time it may be a ton of shrimp, pineapple, or eggs benedict but always the little slices of wood oven pizza).

My TMLQ (time of my life quotient) was vastly expandied by the time they dropped me off at around 2:00 and it didn't quit. I am indebted to the invention of the telephone and relieved that we have a great rate on long distance service because by this miraculous employment of unseen forces I was able to completely transform the misunderstanding that was the source of yesterday's despair. First with King who is retooling and launching new capacities to communicate his experience to me and generously trying to understand mine. And then with Erin who I needed to check in with over what my role should be to be her best MOM (mom of the moment). How much interest in her odyssey is wanted, and when does it feel like intrusion? Wow what a lot to get settled in the space of one TML day!

Switching to the other ear (we're talking a couple of hours of satisfying unsnarling) my fingers sped over the key pad to conjure up Jame. In a flash the key phrase announced another triumph for the ordinary person and a smile lit up her voice. We shared joys and accomplishments, with the same open honesty of the previous two calls -actually the tone set early in the day and parted with a plan to meet for lunch in the park next week with Ivy.

As I close I am renewed in the knowledge that I am the luckiest girl in the world and grateful for the fact that it is a title that can be held simultaneously by anyone (willing to call themselves a girl or amend it to read fellow), any where (with or without a phone), by the grace of that most confusing of words, and most precious of gifts, Love.

Ideal or Real

On a recent vacation with my family -who are probably the only people reading this, the topic of "what would your ideal day look like" came up as a genuine interest in what one of our member's vision for his life is. It got me thinking about how I would answer that and as I mused over the subject casually I noticed an exclamatory picture flashing in the background of my thoughts. It had to do with the ground rules for imagining one's future -does it have to be realistic? The very catagory that defeats many a great plan. I know that some people delete any sort of job from their ideal pic, prefering to have nothing interfere with their love of leisure, and that doesn't seem realistic, having no visible means of support, but it does provide the question "Is there no 'work' that could be as fulfilling as eating bon bons and watching movies"?

But for me the idea of realism actually introduced another revealing question, what am I likely to have considering my present circumstances, and what am I allowed to have? Now I know that the whole point of this exercise is to cast a line into the future upon which you can travel to get to your dreams and that by so doing you recognize the things that are snagging your ribbon of highway and decide what to do to get over them.

One thing at a time. I'm pretending that I don't know the point of this exercise, so here goes. My ideal day unfolds with ease. There is no need to rush, because there is time for everything, if not now, then tomorrow, or some other day that I can trust will come. This is so because I am always able to decide with complete clarity what is in my best interest, and I am grounded in the knowledge that there is enough for everybody including me, and that everybody else is totally capable of making their own best choices. I am not in charge of what is best for anyone but myself and I am genuinely interested in the prosperity of each and all. Here's where it gets tricky -what will I struggle with? How will I content myself with what I see before me in the choices of others? How will I separate my truth from the truth that others know without judgement? What part in their lives will I play? This brings me over a big chasm to the place I want to be (remember, I'm only spinning the thread at the moment, not concerning myself with road work). I see myself experiencing connection to those I love in the way I prefer most -the kind of thing that is like the mystery of sharing a joke. It is the thing that makes both people light up and delight in the total brilliance of the moment that is unexplainable but metaphysically tangable.

And then I eat lunch. And after lunch everything continues to be satisfying and ...what? Except for the lunch part I think I have just made my ideal day look like I have literally died and gone to heaven -I'm dead and life all makes perfect sense. I have no more struggles to muster up courage for, or to make joy all the richer.

Okay now in a few well chosen words what does my ideal life on EARTH look like? I get up every day eagerly anticipating all the great things there are to do in my life and I have someone who "gets me" right there in the same bed with me who is glad that life is exciting for me because it is for him too. And even though he has a job that he loves that is nothing I would have chosen for my own we like to make plans to do things together that we both can enjoy, things that we have made time for, things that we have money for, things we do because we know that when we're dead they just won't be possible, things that celebrate our being alive. Here, is WHERE we are. The moment, is WHAT is. And both of us are worthy of any wonderful thing we can imagine.

How shall I get to this ideal day? Wait? Believe? Visualize? Shop? Save? Get a hundred clients? Become a famous person? Plant myself in the right location? I can't do it by directing anyone elses life. Will it happen if I direct my own?

Why would I have to give up waking up excited to do all the great things there are out there to do just because I can't catch a glimpse of my reflection in someone else's eyes? I don't have to, but I do love it when that happens. Until then: tomorrow begins with a great breakfast at my coffee table with its cushion chairs; landscaping with the lawn mower; general lifescaping with enthusiasm, the old studio, the cob studio, my social life. If I really get into it what could be missing? Even so, I'll hold a space for miraclulous surprises, knowing there are enough for me and everybody else. That is, after all, really why we're alive, or so I think.

The Lab of Life

For the past several days I have been trying to figure out how to post again. I feared I had set loose a solitary blog post that would travel through cyberspace for eternity without context or hope of further connection (a fear I carry for myself at times). But Jamie, my youngest, although very old for her 29 years, in less than an hour, set me on the right path and all is well.

Things have happened in the aforementioned days that I wanted to tell you about and now its time to remember them...hmmm.

Well there was the singular human heavy equipment operator: As most of the world by now knows I am entangled in a massive project that has so far threatened to span an entire 4 years, which is building a large building out of Cob (clay, sand, straw, and water in sticky sculptable mixture). In pursuit of the completion of this foolishness I have been plastering the inside walls lately. For the very highest part I needed to be much taller than my own 5'5.75" would provide and the scaffolding called for creative measures.

Enter the behemoth platform of great length and heft. Like 16' long and HEAVILY constructed to measure only about 12" wide! It was languishing out back in a tangle of vines and needed to be moved single handedly (actually I used both hands -was that cheating?) up hill and around a few tight corners and finally up onto two scaffolds inside the building. I was thrilled with the living physics show that was unfolding minute by minute featuring the fulcrum, in its many costumes, as the star of the extravaganza. There were props and blocks and lifts and grunts and several ouches and in the end a hearty EUREKA! It was gripping adventure that totally distracted me from the often nagging sensation that someone should drop in and do this for me. I realized that it is certainly not work that I disdain but rather impediments to speed.

I constantly strive to rev my vital forces up to the speed at which they can do the bidding of my imagination in not-so-real time. So the visitor whom I have been summoning with my wishes would, I guess, have to be able to descend on the scene and solve the problem simultaneously (there would probably be a puff or two of smoke. Anything not to slow down the illusion that as fast as I can think it, it must be done.

To conclude, the tallest wall is thoroughly plastered. Now to return the colossus (reminds me of olives)to the viney outback. I think I'll put that off for a while.

I'd better get back to cobbing up the built in bench which I am stuffing with debris and extraneous materials to save on cob -lest year 5 creep up to the finish line overtaking an exausted year 4. And this being the hottest day in a string of near centenary degree days (that word may be reserved for people but I like to try new things)