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.