The Park

He played with squeaks and squeals like he was a novice player but he had been doing this for years. He serenaded at the formal gardens during the golden sunlight part of the day as often as he could. It cooled his thoughts and softened his heart.

The other officers had no idea of this alter ego. They knew him as the cold eyed hard ass. The straight player in the good cop bad cop routine. This musical facet of him hit at a truth unknown to his buddies. Only his lovers know of this tenderness, but that was because he played them much like he played his soprano sax. The rise and fall of his sex much like the rise and fall of his melody; tongue, teeth, caress, and blow. All elements in the same vein stemming from the same desire. Yet another facet his fellow officers knew nothing about.

Volcano

The hell fire of the volcano swirled and popped sending plumbs of molten lava into the air, spitting like a boiling pot of soup. It was so unearthly that in the moment it elicited little emotional response. Only when the truck turned and the view was lost did she feel the breath extinguish and the knees jelly. It was the remarkableness of the moment and the loss caused by the shock that made her ache to return. She wanted the emotional response; she needed it in a way she couldn't explain. She cursed her own humanness and her ability to diminish the impact. She wanted to live it again, smell the seer of the fire and feel immersed in the heat. She wanted to see again the explosion of nature at it's finest and most brutal. She could close her eyes and see the jagged imprint of the rocks and the lava glowing with the brilliance that reminded her of stolen glances at the sun. The sulfur and burn lingered. She could smell it faintly on her clothes like sleep.

Sunset

The sunset on the cottage by the sea. The tell tale pinking of the sky and the golden hue of air and sky deepened. The colors melted into each other with a magical sharpness that enthralled. She knew dinner was late. She knew that he would come home soon; sullen and bitter with what the day had wrought and what this life had brought. That bitterness encompassed her at times. Moments like this though brought calm and peace. The golden sunlight moments were hers alone.

She breathed in the wet salt air and smelled the fishy brine of her home. She knew her dreams dissolved like the holy host on her tongue. The children she ached for and the blessings she yearned for. She felt free of her aches and yearnings during her stolen moments.

The snap of the clothes on the line returned her musings to reality. The wet air would ruin her work for the day. She began taking in laundry after her second miscarriage. She was known for her sweet smelling clothes. She rinsed in lavender water, but she knew it was the sunshine that freshened. She used to cluck over the baby clothes and nappies she washed. Fussing and dreaming that she would have to answer a skwall of a child stirred from a nap. She would answer the call happily. She knew in her heart that she wasn't barren, she craved a baby too badly.

She had that dream of chasing a small child around the shed; laughter ringing true on the ocean breeze. When she caught the wee one, and he looked up he had her eyes. She knew the angels would not have sent such a sign without fruition.

The snap of the clothes called her again and she answered with a quick turn that broke her revelry. A sure march across the packed dirt of the ground gave her the solidness to do her duty.

Holiday Blues

Dear friends or friend as it may be,

I am never in good spirits for the holidays. Holy cow it's a drudgery that I don't want to face. I always dream of trips to exotic locals during the feast time. Somewhere far away where I know no one and can avoid the mess of it all.

But mess avoidance is not going to happen...and into the mess I go. I hope that someday...soon...I will be able to do my own thing and go away during the holidays. Even with family I kind of like it's still emotionally messy.

How do you survive the holidays?

Falling

Friends, or friend as it may be.

This is the day before kids come. The anticipation is high and almost tangible in my school. The teachers are semi-frantically arranging and organizing, very annoyed at the mandatory meetings that come with the beginning of school.

I was finishing my decorating. It was clear that over the weekend, when I went in, that I needed specific stuff to hang various posters and items I wanted to display to make the space my own. I had opened the doors to air out my room and to welcome anyone passing to come in and meet the new staff member.

I have the cutest poster of Winnie the Pooh...and Piglet. It deserved a place of honor above my white wipe board. I couldn't quite reach it standing on a chair. I push a nice brown sturdy table up to the wipe board and used the chair to mount it, poster in hand, sticky side out. I was shocked that I felt that darn table give underneath me. Even though I am more rotund than most and have a few items break under my weight, I really didn't think that could be the case this time. So backwards I went flying, poster in hand. All I could think about was not ruining the poster. I don't quite know how I landed, but I do know my legs were over my head for a brief moment. I popped up pretty quick and even with the shock of the situation I knew I wasn't hurt.

The schools in California are open campuses and my room faces a very popular courtyard. A group of teachers were standing there chatting with each other in clear shot of my gymnastic like antics. They all come running to see if I was OK. The only thing hurt was my pride.

I was wearing a skirt and I'm sure they all know that I wore pink polka dotted panties to the first day of school.

PS...a leg on the table was shorter than the others...thus my fall. Thank God I didn't break it.

Serenade

Hello my friends, or my friends as it may be.

The first day of school, and as always it is overwhelming. It never is what you expect, and rolling with the punches until you get the hang of it is normal. I'm pretty laid back about it at this juncture.

So poking around my room, seeing what there was to see and how I can make it my own...I rolled up my sleeves and jumped in.

Someone came to my door, and I opened the locked door to a very surprised lady. I introduced myself and discovered M would be my assistant.

She was gregarious at the instant and very welcoming. She stood at least 5 inches taller than me, almost willowy with a undercurrent of athleticism. Her long greying hair indicating that she was at least in her 50's but her spirit was young. She was very positive about everything and I really appreciated all that she shared with me. She was inquisitive without being pushy and answered my questions openly and honestly. She didn't pull any punches and I was glad that she was there. She was meeting the SLP who had been there the previous year to determine what materials would go and what would stay. She assured me I would love the old SLP, and was correct.

When L arrived she was open also and made me aware of the situation I have fallen into. Not perfect but doable I believe. She was very giving and let me know I could contact her if I had any questions. The kindness in her eyes was sincere.

The ladies stayed and spoke with me about a number of things. Very open and nice, as they cleared my space of all sorts of useful stuff. The need for me to purchase things was made clear, but again was to be expected.

As I was leaving, I heard a holler from a parked car, and noticed their conversation had taken them to the parking lot. They asked me to join them for a drink, and I readily accepted. They were going to a local Mexican restaurant on the water, and a Margarita sounded ideal.

So we went to a hole in the wall that was enchanting. On the back wall it was filled with photos of the proprietors and their families in various events. There was a solo guitarist that was serenading tables. My new found friend was absolutely gleeful and waved him over from a table he had just finished with.

He was an older gentleman and asked for requests. M not only knew what to request but sang the chorus with him, her eyes shut in pleasure and shoulders moving back and forth to the rhythm. She was glorious and so was he. Her pleasure in his music prompted him to ask for another request and she granted it with a grasp on life that was a delight to behold. She interpreted the song for us in English, and it spoke of the romantic asking God to tell his loved one how much he adored her. She sang with him and he flirted with all of us catching our eyes and giving a lopsided romeo smile as he sang. She had captured him and he stayed with us for a while. I must have been beaming, the ocean the music the good company. He commented on my smile and it was lovely.

When he left us for another table, she said the Spanish knew romance and how to write a love song. I commented impulsively that I hoped she married a romantic man. It seemed right to me that she be cherished and humored for her absolute pleasure. She let me know graciously that her husband had died 5 years previously. That she was dating a very nice man, but that her husband had been very romantic. The conversation spun around what was romantic and it was lovely sharing and chatting.

The guitar wielding Romeo came back with a song for us, and called me a California girl. We applauded him and he charmed us, as we filled our bellies with the cool slush of Margarita.

I wanted to ask M if her pleasure in life was new found or if she had always been a sensuous lover of life. She had mentioned earlier in the day that her surgery went well and explained that she had a brain tumor on Brocas area, ironically the language center. She joked that she knew plenty of SLP's to go to if the surgeon had not been so successful. I felt that one ill timed question was enough for the evening, and realized that I knew the answer.

She appreciated life and lived a good one. This was not a newly awakened soul, stirred by the fear of death. This was someone who took pleasure in life, and attracted people like a moth to a flame, to view the exquisite pleasure.

I think this will make for an interesting year.

Anticipation...

It was a long line and the annoyance of that wait was etched on every ones countenance. No scowls no grumbling just pained annoyance. The cadence of shuffle shuffle stand was broken by the weird guy 5 people forward who sat Indian style and read a book. I had never stood in line an hour before getting a number to officially stand in line. The wait was tedious.

Right behind me stood a slight lady dressed in a hippy skirt and flowing blouse. She asked me to save her spot while she asked the lady at the front of the line for a clipboard. I was mildly concerned about defending her when she got back in line, as I notice a number of people coming from the parking lot to stand behind me. I hadn't saved a spot since grade school, and could vaguely remember the nastiness of children if they've felt wronged.

Practicing the defense in my head, she strolled to the spot behind me and slipped in like she had never left. Her hair was curly wild and all one length, it reminded me of wire. I noticed that there were grey strands woven in with the dark and it surprised me. Her face was unlined and peaceful. Her jewelry didn't match her outfit. It resembled stones or crystals carved in flower patterns. It was pretty none the less.

She asked what I was standing in line for, and when I relayed that I was new to the state and waiting to get my license and register my car, she welcomed me to California and urged me to get a clipboard also with an application. I stepped from line, not as gracefully, but with a mission. I slipped back in line with my mission accomplished, and was delighted with the ease and lack of protest.

Our conversation picked up after we passed the brick wall and eased into the area under the entrance way awning. It's like the shade loosened our tongues, and the closer spot opened us up to accepting that it was better to make the most of the situation. She learned quite a bit about me with a few well timed questions. I realized she was a listener, and if I didn't step up I wouldn't learn anything about her.

She had been living at Berkley. Her masters was in human health and city planning. She pursued it for a year before beginning her holistic healing practice. She had just moved back to the area after a long time away. She was pursuing legal action over property that was in her family. The pain of the situation flashed in her eyes briefly, and I realized that she let me see the flicker. It tried to be gracious and wished her luck.

Finally it was time to get a number and present my carefully prepared applications and paperwork to the keeper of the numbers; to be directed either to the left side of the cavernous room or the right. I didn't have everything I needed and was shown the door. I looked around for my wild haired friend, and she was already herded to the appropriate side. I didn't get a chance to let her know that I appreciated our chat.

It's funny how the small friendly gestures of strangers mean home to me. It's where I fit. In the chinks between the kindnesses. The spaces where the smiling eyes and the gentle words are as natural as the air.

Fu*k a duck...

Friends, or friend as it may be.

What a weird full moon day. It was filled with strange happen chance and fey moments. It's left me sick for home and sobbing in my new kitchen. I've always been lunar, maybe the tide draw is a bad thing for me. I recall the last time I moved my brother complained that I cry too much. I really am not much of a crier, but I now see that I probably did...missing my friends and feeling adrift from the happenings at home. My sister in law claimed that it took her a year to feel like this was home. I'm not sure how long it will take me. Once I get that home feeling, my loyalty kicks in and I'm all about home. I think it's OK that I cry about my lost home now though.

An old boyfriend did a random act of e-mail today that knocked me off my groove. Sweet memories and fun moments came flooding back to my thoughts. The way he smiled...just his eyes...just for me. We left in a bad spot, I've never been proud of our parting. Both in the wrong, both incapable of communicating a good good-bye. Three years later he comes knocking on my computer door. It gives me a grin that I touched him, his heart, his thoughts enough to make him curious about me this much later. I wish him well.

I saw a sunset today that rocked me back into my flip-flops. It was magnificent and the already dipped sun set the night sky ablaze. It was a blaze that golden topped waves and reflected in rose and gold on the wet shoreline. I stood in my braided pigtails, with my mouth open...hands hugging my biceps I just stood and watched. In the New Mexico desert, my friend Tina and I came upon a similar sunset and we stopped the Penske truck and took pictures. I whistled a wolf whistle strong and clear in salute of the greatness. I wanted to do a similar whistle...but I didn't want to distract the other watchers. A sailboat played with the colorful horizon before moving beyond the pier and out of sight. I took pictures with my phone, but there was no way to capture the experience...the feeling...the beauty.

wowie...

Hi Friends, or friend as it may be.

The San Diego sunshine was brilliant today. I woke up and baked a loaf of bread, and delivered it to the mackerel giving neighbor boy along with a small container of blueberry lime jam I made.

I putzed and put away things. Mundane to some but decidedly like a puzzle I find where things fit and belong. Living by myself I realize that they will be there where I place them, and that gives me a thrill to my toes.

My vacuum broke today...and I took it a part and ordered new parts online. I felt very handy and independent. The suck part is that the buildup of sand on the carpet gets gritty. Something about a clean floor makes my world right, but when stuff sticks to my feet it makes me mildly wacky. I'm hoping for a quick delivery of parts and pieces.

I had errands to run today and chose the hottest part of the day to be away from my little oven like apartment. So nice to feel the cool air rush from my car vents. The mission to find a post office was daunting, and I didn't find it in time and had to rush to the next item on my list. There I asked for the local post office, so now I know of one 2 towns over. I'll get the hang of this.

I was concerned about biking down to a new girlfriends and then going for a walk. She is considerably more sporty than I and I hoped I wouldn't cause her to have a lackluster workout. She was decidedly kind and open to going at my pace.

Going home with my bike, sweaty with hair in pigtail braids so they would fit in my pink bike helmet, I hear a lady yell from a balcony "You don't have a blinky light." She assured me it was the law for night bikers to have a blinky light, and ran into her house to fetch one for me. She invited me inside for wine and a quick smoke. She had already enjoyed enough for both of us I think, and had no more and reneged her offer. She gave me Fresca instead. She was quite the character and repeatedly told me I was adorable. Her boyfriend joined us on the balcony patio and stepped into my space pretty close. My first thought was that I had gotten myself into an interesting situation but then realized that she was not the only one imbibing and that he had probably staggered out the door. We chatted and I begged off to get riding with my new found blinky light.

There is a whole host of characters in San Diego.

Awwwww....

Friends, or friend as it may be. Wave 2 of the San Diego move is complete and I am settling down into the routine of living in North county San Diego. I'm in a little town called Oceanside. I'm a block and a half from the beach. I hear the surf at night along with the train that wolf whistles a lullaby that will soon fit into my routine.

The adventure here was a true adventure. I did a small coming undone as I was leaving the Midwest, and my longest truest bluest friend...held me together with kind words and love. This was not only an epic adventure of the sort the pioneers made, but a beer run for my oldest brother and his buddies. I got a well engineered spread sheet of all the brews and ales they were unable to get in Southern California, but were readily available in Indiana. They begged me to make a run, and about 50 beers were lovingly iced and packaged in a tote.

We made it out of town and stopped by farm stand to gather vegetable for the trip and to say goodbye to the ladies I had been visiting weekly for peaches, greens, tomatoes and the best pole beans I've ever had. Rounding out of the farm drive with the huge yellow Penske 22 ft truck (which we nicknamed Crusher) we took out a dead branch that I was sure we would clear. There was so much momentum from the squeal forward, that I just kept going with fluttering leaves in our wake. I didn't realize that we took out the branch and possibly carried it with us for quite a while. It rendered a hole we discovered two days later in Texas. Luckily the weather was with us and had been dry as a bone. We detoured to Lubbock, Texas...home of damn good BBQ and traded out the truck. This one we didn't name, superstitiously considering that naming lended to bad behavior. So we went through the desert on a truck with no name. We saw the glorious New Mexico sunsets and the Grand Canyon. We sang, we laughed, we talked, we cried...and it was one of the best trips I've ever had.

We came into San Diego and stayed with my brother. The beer was delivered and a facebook picture of them lined up artistically was thank you enough (I'm still counting on the spa day promised though). It tickles me that they were so lovingly positioned so that the height of the bottles and labels were at their best demonstration.

I moved in the next day. It has taken me a bit to acclimate to the apartment. Putting things places and then re putting them other places has been my thing. I want so badly to step into this new chapter in an organized fashion. The putzing has helped me regenerate and come into the reality that this really is my new home. I still am recovering from the trip and with about 10 more days before the school year starts, I hope that I will be at a lovely point to take on that challenge.

The neighbor boy brought me 4 mackerel today. He and a buddy were fishing from the pier all day. They claimed to have caught a bunch, but only brought 9 home. They were going to cut up the rest to get bigger fish. I asked them to take me fishing someday. They might.

Holy Cow

I had a phone interview today. Not so good that.

Better luck next time methinks.

I am gonna walk off the bad vibe and start fresh...that's the plan and I'm sticking to it.

Wave 1

Ok friends...or friend as it may be. I am an exhausted mess. There is joy in it though. I'm still in transition and will be going to San Diego for round 1 of the great exodus. I'm glad to be doing this but I'm honestly worried...as I should be I guess. I have no place to live nor a job. Ouch. I have a phone interview tomorrow with a good school district and I believe that it will be good if I do in fact get a position there. I have a good bye party planned for July 31...and have invited 150 of my nearest friends for a "C is leaving" party or a "C is staying" party...I believe my friends will celebrate either way. With either announcement, I'm getting out of the college town I'm living in. Sending out the invites...colored green, my favorite color...crap I look so hideous green...solidifies everything. I'm thinking that it really is feasible that I will have a job and a place to U-haul my stuff to by the end of this month. This is big though...really big.

I have been celebrating this transition by going off on adventures with friends...goodbye trips with loved ones that I will truly miss. The mindfulness of my eating has been out the window, but alas I'm cool with it. I came back from San Diego able to fit into a size smaller...and I'm sure that it hasn't changed much in my celebrations. I'm going back to chase a 2 yr old and a 6 yr old niece and nephew...and I'm thinking smaller me is decidedly on the horizon. I know the elements it takes to reduce and I'm keeping track of things on the LiveStrong.com calorie counter. It is beyond beautiful and an excellent way to go for this...it tabulates everything in mere minutes and I'm not hanging my eating out in this forum...I appreciate the privacy.

That makes this a thought journal and I'm tickled with that.

Transitions

I think my brain is gonna blow out my ears. I'm packing and in transition...and want to run away. So much to do...

Breakfast/lunch

2 cups spinich 40

2 cloves garlic 13

2 eggs 180

1 tbsp olive oil 120

353

Dinner

1 chicken breast 240

1 onion

1 spagetti squash 84

1/2 can coconut milk 150

Wine 300

834

=1187

No exercise, just packing.

4-26-10 Monday

Monday is when it all begins...doncha think? Everything begins anew on a Monday. I've been long gone from this food journal for quite a while...challenged by life's circumstances. I'm back and happy to be back...surprisingly. I've done alright with maintaining the weight I've lost but am looking for another onslaught and movement down. This is the way it works for me and I acknowledge that. I need to be mindful enough to write down my food... at least when I am trying to lose. Happily I've been very active!! Bike riding, walking and working out at curves has been a lovely part of my life. I've found that the activity and movement resonates positively within my body and my mind. Bravo! I am hoping that this will have more thoughts as a part of the process...along with the food journaling. We shall see.

2-15 Monday 1815

Dessert

Mini Blueberry pie 1/4 300

ice cream 100

400

Dinner

Bean tomato soup 300

goat cheese 100

greens 40

1/4 avacado 50

home made salad dressing 120

almonds 50

bread 90

butter 35

cheese 90

875

Lunch

none

Breakfast

2 eggs

2 pieces bread

2 pieces cheese

540

Curves circuit training, biked 20 minutes

1-26-10 Tuesday 1545

Dinner

• bread 90
• 1 can sardines 200
• 1 tsp low cal mayo 40
• 1/2 small avocado 80
• dark chocolate 230
• lunch meat 60
• greens 20
• cheese 45
• lime dressing low fat 60
• 820

Lunch

• bread 120
• greens 40
• asian low fat salad dressing 35
• almonds 180
• dried cranberries 120
• carrots 70
• 545

Breakfast

• 2 eggs 180

1-7-09 Thursday 1487

Dinner

• deli turkey 100
• deli ham 100
• greens 40
• cheese 360
• dressing 60
• orange 62
• 722

Lunch

• Soup 200
• Whole wheat crackers 180
• carrots 70
• cheese 35
• hash brown casserole 100
• 585

Breakfast

• 2 eggs 180

AM yoga, walking

1-6-10 1665

Snack

chocolate wafer 280

Dinner

• Soup 300
• cheese 115
• sausage 100
• 515

Snack

Carrots 70

pretels 110

180

Lunch

• salad greens 40
• cranberries 120
• almonds 180
• salad dressing 60
• 2 slices deli turkey 60
• potato hash casserole 50
• 510

Breakfast

• 2 eggs
• 180

1-5-10 Tuesday 1380

Dinner

Soup 300

Snack

• pretzel sticks 110
• Carrots 70
• Cheese 70
• pudding
• 290

Lunch

• Soup 150
• Salad greens 40
• cranberries 120
• Almonds 180
• salad dressing 60
• 2 slices deli turkey 60
• 610

Breakfast

• 2 eggs 180

1-4-09 Monday 1225

Dinner

• Chips 200
• graham cracker 60
• 260

Snack

• pretzels 110
• 2 cheese wedges 50
• choco sugar free pudding 60
• carrots 70
• 290

Lunch

• Squash soup 95
• 2 cups greens 40
• salad dressing 60
• cranberries 120
• almonds 180
• 495

Breakfast

• 2 eggs 180