True to his word T went to Boston to take pictures of FEFFFF and got ’em. Let’s just say I wasn’t surprised. It is what it is. And what it isn’t. Isn’t it.
Category: Confessional
Dangerous to D’bone
It was Christmas again yesterday (in more ways than one, but I’ll get to that some other time). In December Kisa bought me a knife. I guess, according to someone in the culinary world, it is bad luck to buy someone a knife. To offset the “badness” you must give money as well. Are you thinking scam? Because it sounds like a scam to me…but nevertheless Kisa presented me not only with an eight inch Santoku (pictured here) he also gave me a gift certificate which I used for a knife skills class.
Class was yesterday. For me, the biggest rattler of life is thinking you know something and then finding out you’ve been wrong all along. A loser in the knowledge department. Playing the fool in the grand scheme of things. Such was my case before getting to class. I have been slicing, dicing, mincing, milling, you name it, for years. Someone had tried to show me the “right” way to dice. What if I really had been doing it all wrong, wrong, wrong all this time? A worse thought? I’d have to touch a chicken bone-in. I even joked with kisa the night before, “watch. They’re gonna make me debone a chicken.” I was practically trembling when I got to class. And I was right. And wrong.
I was right about the chicken.
Wrong about my abilities. Here’s the bottom line on holding a sharp instrument – it’s a sharp instrument. Hold it any damn way you please to get the job done…with care. There are four professional ways to hold food while “knifing” it. But, variations are acceptable. Completely acceptable. Yay. Class was easier than easy because everything the instructor taught us was something I either knew how to do really well (citrus supremes) or had attempted a few times (Asian garnishes) and everything in between. I’ve never worked in a restaurant but somehow I’ve held my own when holding a knife.
Then came the chicken. Unchartered waters for sure. I have never ever so much as touched a raw chicken that still has it’s skeletal structure. Panic set in. Surely this is where I would slice a thumb off, throw up, or worse – faint. Meat on the bone creates vegetarian thoughts in me. Seriously. Bones make it easier to see the creature it really is. Or Was. Whatever.
The instructor set to instructing. Her “first you do this, then this, then this, then this, then this…” play by play made my head spin. How would I remember to do that in that order? I think my eyes glazed over at that point. When we finally put boning knife to bony chicken I thought “surgery” and went to work. By the end I had a perfectly butterflied, boneless, not-resembling-an-animal-anymore piece of meat. The instructor came by and uttered “perfect” before moving on. Who knew anyone would say “perfect” in my presence? Perfectly unprepared for that.
I learned. I learned how to hone a knife (I mastered 20 degrees on my first try). I learned what dulls a knife (fat, picking up food). But, most importantly, I learned not to take my own knowledge for granted. I sell myself and my abilities short and this was just one more reason why I shouldn’t.
SoulSessionSeanRoweComingSoon…..
Up and Away I Wish I Was
Last year t this time I bought a googly eyed sandbox crab. This year I bought another present in red – a Radio Flyer scooter. Good for a growing boy. This time last year I was on my way north to celebrate two. Now I’m stuck south thinking about three. Missing three.
I’ve been so preoccupied with all things me, myself and moi that I have once again neglected those who matter more. I missed my aunt’s birthday 100%. First time in I don’t know how long. I didn’t send anything in time for my newphew’s birthday. My brother-in-law’s birthday was Monday. My mother-in-law’s birthday was yesterday. Today is another aunt’s birthday. There were others earlier in the month (sorry M, D & W). Missed them all. Missed them all. First time in I don’t know how long.
But, things are getting better. I’m 90% in my new office and my good, good friend was oh so right – green is good for me. Very good. I’m getting over the things that ailed my emotion. I’m getting back to good. Just wish I was getting back to Maine, too.
Losing Track of Days
Is it a good thing to not know what day you are in the middle of? I get restless and nervous when days start to blend together into one big long string of same ol, same ol. It finally happened today. I was in a Saturday frame of mind all day.
Maybe it’s because of the setting sun of my vacation. Maybe it’s because my dreams are the result of restless sleep. Whatever the cause I need to change the pace. Faster, slower. I’m not sure.
I’ve seen my father for four nights running. He comes to my life when I least expect it and every time I end up trying to show him where I’ve been before. Again with the running shoes. Again with him not dead, just gone. Why do I cling to something so unreal? Should anyone mourn like this? It’s not fair. I’ve cried more than my fair share. Exactly what is fair these days?
I even had a panic dream – thought I had missed teaching an important occupational therapy class. Woke up thinking I was late and fired. Woke up feeling confused and tired. Sweaty and disorientated. I hate that feeling at 4:00am. Even the relief of realizing the reality didn’t relax me. Situational insomnia struck again. I’m not sure I know who I am these days.
I’m thinking I should write these night visions out – put them into a perspective more coherent than my perplexed psyche. Something to do. Anything to help.
Green Like Me
The snow fell yesterday like it was January 16th instead of three months later than that. Instead of being the weekend of St. Patrick’s Day green it has been wild winter white. People spent their Saturday morning digging out driveways and sanding sidewalks. Not a shamrock in sight. We were no different before we headed to the office. Snowblowers and shovels. Backbreaking for the already bruised kisa.
Maybe I was thinking of Myrtle. Maybe I was envious of the Irish. I don’t know. Whatever the reason I changed one wall of my office to “Amazon” green. I kid you not. I hired a professional painter and while kisa & I hung curtains and rearranged furniture my wall of blue was washed away with an anaconda hue. It took two coats to subdue the blue underneath but in the end I had a wall of jungle.
Sometimes you need to do something a little daring. Go out on a limb. I see green as a little dangerous, a little evil. Maybe this snake-like hue will give me the venom I need to fight in the future. Court battles and corporate takeovers and cold hearts.
I sat and I watched Myrtle. Ancient and grace. Beautiful and green.
Not So Far
I’ve been working on flickr all friggin’ day. I think I can safely call it a new obsession. Not because I have actively been behind the camera lately, but because I can hear my mother in my head. She’s talking about how she never sees the photos that I take. Hundreds of photos. Tons of trips. Lots of faces. She’s not complimenting my pictures, but rather compensating for the fact that she feels left out of something…whatever that something may be.
I stumbled across this picture and realized that even though it was orginally a “wedding planning” picture (as it was the site for the reception), it is now a “house we are renting this summer” picture. Cool. It’s within a stroll of the island’s best pizza, great coffee and of course, should the need arise, public restrooms…and the church. Only “the bog” separates us from what is considered the heart of town. (The heart being where the most gossip takes place and that would be the post office.)
It’s hard to imagine grilling in the summer sun with the snow coming down the way it is now. But, I’m getting excited. Only 4 months to go.
Grounded
Never mind that we are sailing on dry land. Never mind that I am obscuring my face with a cheese sandwich. We are a formidable crew of three waiting to take on the world (if not the open ocean). I wonder where we all went.
If you haven’t guessed I have been spending my time tripping down memory lane, trying to flickr the pictures of my life. I’ve been inundated with wedding pictures and was more than happy to stumble on something that didn’t involved pretty bouquets, groups of pretty smiling faces and a veil of lace (also pretty). Even I can get tired of one of the happiest days of my life.
I don’t know what happened to the chick in the back of the boat. Maybe she’s fronting a rock band that got its start at New York’s infamous CBGBs. Maybe she’s a soft spoken poet in San Francisco, eating raw algae and wearing hemp shirts. I don’t know. Her presence didn’t rub off on me. I didn’t get a single particle from her…for I don’t even remember her name.
The blondie next to me went on to be a rock star of a different kind. She’s married with kids, a happy house, and a killer pot roast recipe. All that’s missing is the dog, but maybe that will come later… when the kids are in school. I don’t see her as often as I would like, but maybe that’s the way life is supposed to work.
The me in the picture? I hide my face because I’m embarrassed to be in a boat, pitifully shipwrecked on the lawn in the backyard. I remember now I’m too young to be embarrassed by the Ho..or the Dorothy Hamill haircut. I remember the person behind the camera cajoling for a glimpse of my eyes but I wouldn’t give up a glance. For even then I knew. I was no more rock star than poet, but something in between.
boots for kisa
I adore this picture. There is so much going on in this one, poorly lit shot. Take the boots, for example. The boots shocked people. No. I take that back. The boots surprised only those who don’t really know me and shocked those who don’t believe in me. The flowers amazed me. Even now, still. Grown just for my day. Our day. Not a single blossom purchased in a no-name greenhouse. There was even a tiger lily if you looked close enough. My parents on their wedding day peeked out from the green. Their faces kept me calm, kept me grounded on an otherwise outrageous day. I wore a veil to look the part of champagne bride and maybe I blushed. I don’t remember. Kisa laughed from the shadows. Not a what-did-I-just-do? laugh, but did-I-really-marry-this-crazy-woman? laugh. It’s the banter of a new beginning. We are happy and defiant. Still.
Day 1 Ended
TO ACCOMPLISH TODAY:
1.) Shop for three (3) meals (something chicken, something pork, something veggie:
Done! The “new” market is a bit fancy-schmancy but I enjoyed myself. Garlic and lemons, green onions and apricots, feta and picante tomato juice.
2.) Get phone numbers, addresses and emails to Hub.
Done! Technically, that should have taken a fraction of my time but I got sucked into #3…
3.) Read Climate of Treason for an hour.
Done! I got a few chapters read and since this law book isn’t due back for another month I’m in good shape.
4.) Read Children of the Souls for an hour.
I actually read 7 1/2 Cents instead. Reading two World War I books back to back was a little much. I opted for 7 because it’s humorous.
5.) Practice yoga for an hour.
6.) Write up a to-do list for the guest room(s). Gotta love lists! 😉 Yes, but I never got to it.
7.) Continue the great curtain hunt.
I looked online and wasn’t happy with anything I found. This is going to be more difficult than I thought.
8.) Pay some bills.9.) Draft the first letter to Yoko.
I did this in my head a few times. Never made it to paper. Maybe tomorrow.
10.) Call mom Maybe tomorrow….
Bonus ~ call for a hair appointment.
Was today successful? I’m not sure. I added things to the list and other things took more time that I thought. I gave myself a hair treatment and my face a mud mask (the house smells like vinegar now). I prepared a brine for tomorrow’s pork. I got the ingredients for the chocolate banana cake together. Dinner was a juggling African number from Tyler Florence. Homemade spice rub (dry), homemade green olive sauce, apricot couscous salad, garlic, lemon, herb chicken….yummy. Tons of ingredients. Time consuming. I did a load of hand washables. Sweaters drive me nuts to dry. Judging Amy got me for one episode. And I bought cottage cheese.
Day 1
Today I am using this blog as a productivity meter. I’ll blog about what I want to accomplish and at the end of the day, make a comparison. It’s stupid, really. I have stressed all weekend that I would squander my week off, that I would end up on my azz on the couch, watching Judging Amy and eating cottage chesse straight from the container. Okay, we don’t have cottage cheese…but you get the point. I could easily piss the whole day away because I’ve been going through weeks of worry and fury. So, without further ado:
TO ACCOMPLISH TODAY:
1.) Shop for three (3) meals (something chicken, something pork, something veggie.
2.) Get phone numbers, addresses and emails to Hub.
3.) Read Climate of Treason for an hour.
4.) Read Children of the Souls for an hour.
5.) Practice yoga for an hour.
6.) Write up a to-do list for the guest room(s). Gotta love lists! 😉
7.) Continue the great curtain hunt.
8.) Pay some bills.
9.) Draft the first letter to Yoko
10.) Call mom…….
Bonus ~ call for a hair appointment.
Let the games begin….
Pour Me More
I’ve shunned the electronic social network and opted for the face to face this weekend. There’s some birthday reminder on myspace but I’ve ignored it. I had more fun wishing Sandy happy birthday as she poured me another cup of coffee and took my order. It was nice to see my husband sit up and take a meal for the first time in a week. Face to face, pour me more.
Last night I went out to dinner with the girls. Pasta and wine (Merlot, of course). Stories and laughter. We saved leftovers for later and didn’t worry about manners. Face to face, pour me more.
Today, I helped a friend with *her* office space. It was nice to not think about me, myself and moi for a little while. A different paint brush dipped in paint a different shade of blue. Lying on the floor, paying attention to detail and catching up. Face to face, pour me more.
Tonight, I am going to put my feet in kisa’s lap and watch ‘Go Further’…with wine. We’ll talk about my mother’s birthday, my family’s visit and beautiful Colorado. We’ll worry about backaches, try to figure out how to ship a burrito through the mail and laugh about the cat. We’ll take on life face to face. Pour me more and let me drink it up.
How They Dream
There are times when I need to breathe. Just remembering that taxes me to the limit these days. I feel the fuse getting shorter, the patience wearing thin. It’s not enough just to count to ten. Ten hundred seems a little lacking, too. I want to sleep for days.
Last night was supposed to be yoga. I was in the car, mentally murdering other motorists, hurrying home knowing, nagging I forgot something. Class came to remembrance. Between the bad back, painful promotion, unofficial office relations, public coming into the private, and the everything else, I haven’t had a moment to even think calm, let alone be it. I want to sleep for weeks.
Last night I dreamed of honey, slow and golden. I dreamed of calico cats and birthday presents for little boys. Green tea by the water’s edge. I woke to the sensation of drowning and dark. I want to sleep for years.
“I sleep just to dream her. ” ~ David J. Matthews
“Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?” ~ John C. Mayer
“I come to you in restless sleep where all your dreams turn bittersweet.” ~ Natalie A. Merchant.
Acting Up
Who else watched Dave on House last night? I have to admit I’ve never watched an episode of House before and the only reason I watched last night was Dave. Dave and Dave alone. I’ve heard he’s an okay actor (I have yet to rent the kiddie flicks) so I wanted to check him out. I’m a big fan of the man and if you have ever heard his life story you know why. Humility, humor, and heart all there.
House was…well…something else. During a concert Dave will stutter and say silly things that leave me questioning his state of mind. Last night was either brilliant or more evidence that the guy has a screw rattled. He played the part of a savant perfectly. His smiling face was vacant and childlike, scared and innocent. My only problem was trying to separate the musician from the actor. At one point I couldn’t help but blurt out “Oh no, don’t shave Dave’s head!”
Seeing Dave in an acting role was cool. It didn’t make me a fan of House. I didn’t get Dr. House at all. I spent more time wondering if he was always “like that” or was it just this episode? Either way, I watched for Dave.
Ego Checked
I started a blog this morning about how much I needed a mulligan, a do-over for the day. It was all about me. It started off bad thanks to a bad nights sleep. I should clarify – a bad nights not sleep. If it wasn’t the wind, it was the cat. Both keeping me up, both making me insomniac. Later, I dreamed of Chessie – swept away by a hurricane’s fury.
Maybe overtiredness is howI cut myself opening the mail at 7am. A papercut gusher before my first sip of coffee. Not nice. I still shaken by a cat’s cries drowned by the wind.
Then, there’s kisa…He emailed me yesterday saying, “no gym. back sorta hurts…” By the time I saw him that night he was hunched over in pain. He couldn’t even stand straight. By bedtime he was reduced to crawling up the stairs growling, “how humiliating!” He didn’t want me to even look at him.
Today started out being a selfish ItsAllAboutMe day. I had a night of insomnia and crazy wind-induced dreams. In the end is was all about taking care of kisa. I forgot about Me, Myself & Moi. Maybe that’s the key – whenever I’m feeling too much Ego, whenever I’m all about Me I’ll take care of someone else.
rain
I’m hoping next week is nothing but rain. I have the week off and want nothing but dark skies, gray days. I only know of one friend who adores gray the way I do. I want the rain as an excuse to practice yoga for more than an hour at a time. I learned some variations to sun salutations at Now and Zen Yoga’s flow class. I want to practice the movements for more than 15 minutes. I want dreariness to justify reading ten chapters on the couch, a cup of coffee within my reach. I need to open the darkness, crawl inside and heal what ails me. I’m looking forward to days of solitude; personal vows of silence.
~*LunaSea*~ 