salsa. salsa. salsa. the kind where your feet move in and out, your hips back and forth, and your shoulders round and round. then there is the kind from a jar - hot, medium or mild, sometimes with roasted garlic, or black beans and corn. or the kind that is fresh, fresh, fresh. hot, hot, hot. that's the kind I like. a lot. hot, hot, hot. sweat beading on my forehead, and friction under my toes. in and out. back and forth. round and round.
I actually left my house at 9:30 tonight to go out salsa dancing. For those of you who know me well, you know this is not a common occurrence.... I'm an early morning girl, supposedly. But last night I was totally wooed by the rhythm and the movement of the salsa dance. And now that is all I want to do. The thing I am discovering is that even though I can move to the music like a pro, all by myself, when I try to move with a partner, I'm all thumbs... or big toes, in this case. I'm used to doing my own thing, and it's a whole different story to let someone else call the shots... it's like I don't even know the language yet, much less how to listen. But I'm excited to learn.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
mornings
there is frost on the lamb's ears this morning, and the swamp has ice - frozen in those neat spiky patterns. there's ice on the rocks by cape pogue too, and yet the honey suckle and russian olive leaves hang right on to their slender, sticky branches. my legs and lungs liked running this morning...and my mind too. it was a good time to remember that I only exist now, and now, and now. not yesterday while I was worrying about my brother, and not today when I have to massage two stocky men, and not tonight when I'm going out and don't even know why. what a difficult concept to get my head around! no day but today. I ran around Brine's Pond three times, and the third time I noticed an animal tunnel mostly covered with leaves, and it made me wonder what other things I miss in my life when I'm busy worry about yesterday or tomorrow. or even just 20 minutes from now.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
lost time
It's 11:13 pm, on 11/20, and I am surrounded by paper, rubberstamps, ink and photos.... It's a regular smorgasbord of art supplies, and I'm in heaven. When I get to stamping again, I always wonder why I don't do it more often. I'm remembering again that art is where I lose myself. Hours can pass by, and they'll go like a wink.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
free massage and tea...
Free massage at the tea shop. I stopped into the tea shop to talk to Sarah, the proprietor, about providing free chair massage at her tea shop for Green Streets (It's the last Friday of every month when people are encouraged to wear green and travel green and get free stuff. Check out portlandgreenstreets.org). She liked the idea, and I will be there on Friday from 3-4pm at the very least. Probably a little earlier, and a little later too. As I was leaving she said, "Nice to meet you...I haven't met you before, have I?" I think she asked that because I sort of acted like I knew her. I have a way of doing that - acting like I know things that I don't. It's sometimes confusing to people when they don't know me well. Especially if they are teaching me how to do something, or telling me about something new. I nod and say, "Yeah", and, "Un hunh," as if I know all about it, but really I just mean, "Yeah, uh hunh, I get what you're talking about".
I think I probably got it from my mom. She says that she is a know-it-all too. The funny thing is that when you get right down to it, there's not much I know-it-all about. I don't really consider myself an expert on anything. Yet somehow, I seem to think I should. Know it all, that is. This morning I said to Ben that it was my first time doing something, and I should at least be able to do it right...it being my first time. After I said it I realized that didn't make any sense, really. If it's my first time, it should be OK to make a mistake. I guess I must have gotten programmed wrong. For me, first times are the place to make a good impression, not to mess things up. The most ironical thing is the actual place I was trying to make a good impression: an online spiritual inquiry group. I'm pretty sure God doesn't care if I send in my responses in the proper form or not. In fact, God would probably prefer I screw it all up and get humble instead. And then figure out why the hell I'm so attached to being right and knowing-it-all.
I gave two great massages today, and then I almost cooked my mesculin seeds. They are planted in a styrofoam cooler and I had put a piece of clear plastic over them last night to protect them from frost. In the morning I thought, "Hmm, might as well give them a little boost." I left the plastic on and when I came back a couple of hours later, there was steam coming out of the soil! OOPS. Maybe a little too much of a boost. Hopefully they survived their steaming, and they will be poking their heads up soon.
I have some cucumber plants in pots, now. I feel like I can call them plants cause they have little crinkly leaves starting - the first set of REAL leaves. And I have some arugula and basil seedlings too! I'm heeding my gardening book's advice and am only focusing on planting things that I really love to eat. Arugula, basil, cukes. Peas soon, too. I have recently been on a green kick. I've started wearing this color green, wait, I think it may even be chartreuse...is that possible?? Anyway, I've got three different green coats and a green hat, and today I used green chalk, and last night I made a green sauce for the pasta, and a green salad.
"It's not that easy being green;
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold...
or something much more colorful like that.
It's not easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ord'nary things.
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're
not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water or stars in the sky.
But green's the color of Spring.
And green can be cool and friendly-like.
And green can be big like an ocean, or important like a mountain,or tall like a tree.
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful!
And I think it's what I want to be."
-Kermit the Frog
I think I probably got it from my mom. She says that she is a know-it-all too. The funny thing is that when you get right down to it, there's not much I know-it-all about. I don't really consider myself an expert on anything. Yet somehow, I seem to think I should. Know it all, that is. This morning I said to Ben that it was my first time doing something, and I should at least be able to do it right...it being my first time. After I said it I realized that didn't make any sense, really. If it's my first time, it should be OK to make a mistake. I guess I must have gotten programmed wrong. For me, first times are the place to make a good impression, not to mess things up. The most ironical thing is the actual place I was trying to make a good impression: an online spiritual inquiry group. I'm pretty sure God doesn't care if I send in my responses in the proper form or not. In fact, God would probably prefer I screw it all up and get humble instead. And then figure out why the hell I'm so attached to being right and knowing-it-all.
I gave two great massages today, and then I almost cooked my mesculin seeds. They are planted in a styrofoam cooler and I had put a piece of clear plastic over them last night to protect them from frost. In the morning I thought, "Hmm, might as well give them a little boost." I left the plastic on and when I came back a couple of hours later, there was steam coming out of the soil! OOPS. Maybe a little too much of a boost. Hopefully they survived their steaming, and they will be poking their heads up soon.
I have some cucumber plants in pots, now. I feel like I can call them plants cause they have little crinkly leaves starting - the first set of REAL leaves. And I have some arugula and basil seedlings too! I'm heeding my gardening book's advice and am only focusing on planting things that I really love to eat. Arugula, basil, cukes. Peas soon, too. I have recently been on a green kick. I've started wearing this color green, wait, I think it may even be chartreuse...is that possible?? Anyway, I've got three different green coats and a green hat, and today I used green chalk, and last night I made a green sauce for the pasta, and a green salad.
"It's not that easy being green;
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold...
or something much more colorful like that.
It's not easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ord'nary things.
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're
not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water or stars in the sky.
But green's the color of Spring.
And green can be cool and friendly-like.
And green can be big like an ocean, or important like a mountain,or tall like a tree.
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful!
And I think it's what I want to be."
-Kermit the Frog
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Flowering primaries
I sometimes wonder how my kids will think of me, what kind of mom I will be.... I was cooking rice tonight, and I left the kitchen with the burner on high heat, knowing full well that I would probably forget to come back in and check it before it had boiled away half the water, and my rice was sticking to the bottom. Yet I did it anyway. I think all that means, actually, is that I need a timer for my kitchen.
The moon is 99% full right now, aka "waxing gibbous" (according to igoogle). I can see it out my window if I lean way over, being careful not to fall into Charity's hibiscus with the bud getting ready to bloom. Hanging at the top of the window is Cha's bougainvillea which I have been babysitting for months now, and have even managed to have that bloom too. After almost killing it of dehydration in an attempt to protect it from the weird fruit-fly-like fungus flies that share Susannah's and my humble abode.
These flies first took up residence in the fall in the soil of the gorgeous rosemary plant that Susannah had given me for my 25th birthday this summer, and then when that died, they proceeded to infest other unwitting plants in our care. We have also been plant-sitting for Susannah's sister, Sal, and so far we've only lost one of her's. It was a tiny lavender plant that she started from seed, and it just dried up and died. We are hoping that maybe it will revive come summer, with lots of sun and water and fresh air. Anyhow, after thinking for awhile that we had a fruit fly infestation, a nice man told Susannah that our problem was probably some fungus flies, and that we should try drying out the soil of our plants in hopes of killing them. So far that hasn't worked, but I did manage to almost kill Cha's plants in the process. Maybe that's why they are blooming.... they figure they better put out any attempt to carry on the species. Little do they know that they live in a bedroom in Portland, Maine, and there are no fertile grounds nearby in which to spread.
I don't know when Cha's obsession with Bougainvillea started, but it was definitely in "full bloom" when we sailed together in the Caribbean on Harvey Gamage in the spring of 2003. I think obsessions with flowers are some of the best kinds... I guess they just don't seem like they would be harm full in any way to the obsessor, or the obsessee. Charity almost succeeded in transporting a beautiful bougainvillea from somewhere in the south all the way home, but i think it died after being drenched in salt water, and starved of light partway up the east coast. I'll have to check on that....
I have been having an absolute blast with my new digital camera, and I'll post a few slide shows along with these words. I documented our attendance at the Democratic caucuses in Portland, along with 4500 other folks ( attending, not necessarily documenting). We waited in line for about an hour before we were even able to get inside, and then once inside we waited in long snaking lines, sort of like a nightmare at the airport, except that everyone seemed to be in a pretty good mood. Apparently they had only been expecting 2500 voters, though even with that many I think there still would have been a pretty LLLLOOOONNNNG wait. We finally reached our destination after at least an hour and a half of standing in line, and it became obvious why it all took as long as it did. There was only one person, with a huge, long list of names, for each letter of the alphabet. They had to look up each person, find their precinct, fill out their ballot, and then finally move onto the next person. I kept thinking, Man, if we had seen this mess as we came in the door, I might not have waited so patiently in line all that time. It was definitely an experience to remember, marking my first time participating in the presidential primaries.
The moon is 99% full right now, aka "waxing gibbous" (according to igoogle). I can see it out my window if I lean way over, being careful not to fall into Charity's hibiscus with the bud getting ready to bloom. Hanging at the top of the window is Cha's bougainvillea which I have been babysitting for months now, and have even managed to have that bloom too. After almost killing it of dehydration in an attempt to protect it from the weird fruit-fly-like fungus flies that share Susannah's and my humble abode.
These flies first took up residence in the fall in the soil of the gorgeous rosemary plant that Susannah had given me for my 25th birthday this summer, and then when that died, they proceeded to infest other unwitting plants in our care. We have also been plant-sitting for Susannah's sister, Sal, and so far we've only lost one of her's. It was a tiny lavender plant that she started from seed, and it just dried up and died. We are hoping that maybe it will revive come summer, with lots of sun and water and fresh air. Anyhow, after thinking for awhile that we had a fruit fly infestation, a nice man told Susannah that our problem was probably some fungus flies, and that we should try drying out the soil of our plants in hopes of killing them. So far that hasn't worked, but I did manage to almost kill Cha's plants in the process. Maybe that's why they are blooming.... they figure they better put out any attempt to carry on the species. Little do they know that they live in a bedroom in Portland, Maine, and there are no fertile grounds nearby in which to spread.
I don't know when Cha's obsession with Bougainvillea started, but it was definitely in "full bloom" when we sailed together in the Caribbean on Harvey Gamage in the spring of 2003. I think obsessions with flowers are some of the best kinds... I guess they just don't seem like they would be harm full in any way to the obsessor, or the obsessee. Charity almost succeeded in transporting a beautiful bougainvillea from somewhere in the south all the way home, but i think it died after being drenched in salt water, and starved of light partway up the east coast. I'll have to check on that....
I have been having an absolute blast with my new digital camera, and I'll post a few slide shows along with these words. I documented our attendance at the Democratic caucuses in Portland, along with 4500 other folks ( attending, not necessarily documenting). We waited in line for about an hour before we were even able to get inside, and then once inside we waited in long snaking lines, sort of like a nightmare at the airport, except that everyone seemed to be in a pretty good mood. Apparently they had only been expecting 2500 voters, though even with that many I think there still would have been a pretty LLLLOOOONNNNG wait. We finally reached our destination after at least an hour and a half of standing in line, and it became obvious why it all took as long as it did. There was only one person, with a huge, long list of names, for each letter of the alphabet. They had to look up each person, find their precinct, fill out their ballot, and then finally move onto the next person. I kept thinking, Man, if we had seen this mess as we came in the door, I might not have waited so patiently in line all that time. It was definitely an experience to remember, marking my first time participating in the presidential primaries.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
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