Eclipsa de Filoli

So, last week was very busy.

Freakishly busy.

Getting up at 4am for work and not finishing kind of busy,

then I was sent out of town to Sacramento for what felt like an eternity.

Probably because most of my waking hours after working for a lifetime to get ready for Sacramento required that I sit patiently and wait...

just staring at this door...



To get to this door I was given instructions to turn right

at the Coca-Cola...huh?



All to get me to

this uncomfortably close to me door...



Hour after hour after hour, outside of the door...



Staring at the fake wood door all day,

obviously led me to...


I will save you a photo collection of what I could entitle,

"Odd Crap Sacramento Keeps in Public Bathrooms."

Highlights would include a Sharps Box and a Wool Blanket.

I will also save you from a photo depiction of me going

completely f'ing NUTS because the television in my hotel room

insisted on turning itself on at high volumes at least 5 times a night.

It was not until the last night at 4:45am that I unplugged the damn thing.

I know - Filoli - should have thought of that sooner...I was tired.

When I did manage to get back home,

I was greeted by this little fiasco.



That was the calm version...

it was a lot more motion and chaos before that point...



Jackass.

No really - he is a donkey.

Uh, and a jackass.

So after a week of a lot of work and a lot of driving...

Alpha asked if we could do a bit more driving...

I should have been cranky and tired about it,

okay I should not ever be cranky...I know...

but I was happy because after yet another WTF work day and a drive,

I got to


a little Central Coast wine tasting event...

Woke up painfully early...

Probably because my body was already broken down by that damn hotel ghost to only sleep for 45 minutes at a time...

Went for a bike ride with Alpha...

[Missing is the photo of me working on my bike after my chain dropped that Alpha took from afar because he was ahead of me...but close enough to photo the event...ah, love, "honey, here is the picture of you fighting with your gears."]

Then we all loaded up in the car and headed to Pismo...

Saw yet another jackass fiasco...

Notice 2x4s hanging out both front passenger window

and back driver's side passenger window.



Donkey.


Checked out Pismo Beach (skipped Splash).




Then back to the house for a barbecue...no photos...too tired...

Next day - a different kind of bike ride,

to Avila Beach (noticeably different from Pismo - eh?)

waited on everyone else to show up and meet for lunch.

Tried to explain to Alpha what my schedule would be like next week.

Got this response.

I get that response a lot.

Late lunch with my BFF girl,

I think when they actually create Artificial Intelligence children in the future

they must pattern off of this laid back, well mannered, super cool little girl.

(I am sure she is not as cool as your child - don't get me wrong.)

But she is delightful.

People watched the beach people watchers a bit more...

then headed home.

Of A Revolution

In a way, I need a change
From this burnout scene
Another time, another town
Another everything
But it's always back to you

Stumble out, in the night
From the pouring rain
Made the block, sat and thought
There's more I need
It's always back to you

How many times can I break till I shatter?




I always turn the car around

*I am not shattered, I like the song. Perhaps, in some twisted way I like the image...

A Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere

Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3...

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

(If this doesn't work (again), you can hit the player in the sidebar)(if you are so inclined)

I want to live where soul meets body

And let the sun wrap its arms around me

And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing

And feel, feel what its like to be new

Cause in my head there's a greyhound station

Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations

So they may have a chance of finding a place

where they're far more suited than here

I cannot guess what we'll discover

Between the dirt with our palms cut like shovels

But I know our filthy hand can wash one another's

And not one speck will remain

I do believe it's true

That there are roads left in both of our shoes

If the silence takes you

Then I hope it takes me too

So brown eyes I hold you near

Cause you're the only song I want to hear

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

Where soul meets body

Where soul meets body

Where soul meets body

I do believe it's true

That there are roads left in both of our shoes

If the silence takes you

Then I hope it takes me too

So brown eyes I hold you near

Cause you're the only song I want to hear

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

Soul Meets Body

-Death Cab For Cutie

Age 10

I have been wanting to do this for awhile and then got distracted, then I put it off because I wanted to explain why I wanted to do it, then found myself incapable of formulating thoughts, and now I have the book in my lap, so I am just going to share it with you.

[Phew] The following is a poem written by young Julia talking about life as an adopted person and how she thinks about it. Also, I want to add that the author, Joyce Maquire Pavao, introduces this poem by commenting that here is a poem from a 10 year old "whose parents have done an admirable job of helping her know what adoption means and who've given her the tools to talk about adoption."

I give you -

Me

Before I was born
God had a plan
For me and my surroundings.
He gave me two mothers
And sent me two fathers,
And sighed, "Oh me, oh my.
This baby, this child.
What shall I do?"
And he wrote down,
Three sisters, two brothers.

He wrote down,
Girl, not boy,
Asian, nothing else
And He added a few lies.
But then he made me
A Good Child.
And gave me love, talent and peace.

Before I was born,
God had a plan for
My two mothers and two fathers.
He gave them mistakes,
He wrote down joy.
And sent them the gift of talent.

God wrote down sadness,
Loss and fear.
He gave me an empty hole.
Inside that hole,
Little by little
Happiness begins to form
A star.
And in that star,
He gave me hope,
That I must use always.

Across the sea,
My first mother dwells.
Here at home,
My mother lives.
God made it that way

I believe.
He wrote down
Sad and scared.
But then he gave the star,
Of hope and
An unfinished book, laid
Aside.

-Julia Wisbach, age 10
Birthcountry Korea

Miscellaneous Monday

For more on Germany's intended homage to the American lifestyle and President Obama, click here. I also enjoy that in the article the German spokesperson feels compelled to state that "fingers" is a reference for finger food and not intended to suggest fingers - you silly Americans. I wonder if our buffalo wings, Miracle Whip and Capri Sun are driving them mad with confusion.

Finished reading

If you love a good blog, you will love this book. It is a fast and quick read - insightful, poignant, snarky, giggly and informative - oh and she curses which I simply adore. I don't quite know how you can talk about cancer and not say "fuck." Anyway, I don't do book reviews and loathed book reports as a child. I prefer to just hang out and talk about it...so all I really can say is if you are interested and your life has been touched by cancer, or you want to hear a fresh voice of a black author with black parents yet raised in the upper tiers of white privilege and her perspective, or if you wonder what thoughts a mother might think when faced with the idea that she might leave her child motherless - just pick it up. If you hate it, keep it to yourself.

This weekend Alpha and I both received our water safety certificate. I wish I could say that we learned something surprising and new. Honestly, Alpha was a lifeguard, I have done 2 ice rescues in my life, will swim for over 2 miles in open water, and take out the tri newbies for first time open water swims...the only thing we learned is that we need to contact the Red Cross and get certified to teach the class because that would have been an easy $500 dollars for an afternoon of work.

BUT - the positive is that we are moving slowly towards our final fost-adopt certification.

If only there wasn't a damn fence in the way...

Not So Tickled Pink

One would think that planning a Ta Ta event would be carefree and easy. In fact there is a lot of coordination between different generations of women that have been impacted by breast cancer.

So, let me let you in on a little secret...

when "young people" (evidently, that is us in our 30's) get cancer...

and said "young people" have children (still not me - perhaps, that makes me even younger),

older people (who refer to themselves as "old people") are VERY uncomfortable.

This means they WORRY

a lot

and they are concerned

and this stresses you out EVEN MORE.

When they are worried and distracted they sometimes become COMPLETELY impossible to assist in much needed coordination to pull off something for a date we do not yet know because we are still very much trying to figure out what is going on before the surgery.

For instance, a request to pick up the breast cancer risk pamphlets

for a guest list of 30 - 50, and then

bringing back a total of 6,

3 of which are for a resource house that is located over 300 miles away

not. so. helpful.

Another challenge, planning a breast cancer awareness/good bye ta-ta party requires a certain amount of somewhat disturbing levity,

(in our world)

perhaps, because we are those unruly young people,

because if it is 100% serious all the time then it feels as though you might just free fall forever deeper and deeper into the darkest imaginable place,

never to be seen from again.

So we laugh.

I honestly had a conversation insisting the requested black accents are not only fine, desired, but in fact necessary.

There was a concern that black and the word cancer is too ominous.

Uh,

Cancer is ominous.

If I spell it in every color in the freaking rainbow

(which would be slightly more frightening to me because then it would be some sort of pride cancer...and that would not be fabulous)

it is by definition gloomy, scary, dark, concerning,

ominous.

Now, you might have been interested in the story of the one arm man.

The post I desperately wanted to write last night.

But instead I ended up making calls, mediating, advocating, hunting and in general unabashedly annoying the self-appointed committee.

So, I am not so tickled...

and between you and me, I don't particularly care for pink,

and I have an obscene amount of pink collecting at my house right now.

I am more of an orange girl.

Orange - the emo pink.

and the BIGGEST BUMMER OF ALL

(hmmmm, no wait, that was the lumpity lump lump surprise)

okay the BUMMER in my tiny shallow world last night,

I MISSED THE SUBMISSION DEADLINE!

[pouty eyes and quivering lip]

So, after I run by the cancer society, make a few more calls, write this other thing, eat, say "hi" to the husband, try not to catch this death cold that is going around by chugging superfood and eating raw wheatgrass, pack for a trip, feed the cat, play with the pups...

then I am totally writing my damn blog post that would have been my entry...

if only for me.

Followed by a long twilight of piety and nihilism

(Those are not my words, they are someone else's words. I am not linking, if you are interested you can, as my father would say, get up and look it up.)

Speaking of long twilights, it seems as though we are trapped in many right now.

First twilight - my brief break from the pool in June turned out to be not so brief. The last time I did actual swim workouts was before a tri in early June. The last time I swam was for my birthday tri in August. It was a challenging open water swim for me. Not just because I was out of the water for a couple of months (challenge enough). An additional treasure for me was that I missed my wave start and they wouldn't just let me drop into the next wave. They insisted that I "just go" and chase after my wave. Nothing quite like the embarrassment of trying to get your water wings back with a shore full of people watching you, cheering for you, probably wondering "what the hell is wrong with that swimmer...oh poor girl."

I survived.

So it is inevitable.

I will be back in an open water swim soon,

the twilight will end, and

this will be me again...

I will be back in the water with masses of people around me fighting for position,

I will fight current, kicking feet and flailing arms to beat these people out of the water,

it is unlikely, but we all need dreams.

So Tuesday, early in the morning, I hit the pool.

Back in tri training mode,

For me, tri training is when I am in the pool,

I run and bike, but tri means swimming.

I am not a fish.

I did not do swim team, I have no natural grace and balance in the water, I do not have the swimmer background.

So for me, triathlons means "Filoli go face your water issues."

This means swim, swim, swim and then swim some more.

In hopes that someday maybe I will be a bad agent swimmer,

like elite professional triathlete Alexis Waddel-Smith,

Do not let the fence fool you.

We are totally friends...completely...

she races Wildflower and I say "hi" when she zooms past me.

We're down.


She came blazing out of the water (first of course) at this event while I was waiting for my wave to start. She runs by, I scream "Go Alexis!" she continues her focused run to transition.

Alexis is hella amazing. At Wildflower, she used to do the 1/2 Iron distance on Saturday and the Olympic distance on Sunday. Her only regret about going pro is that she no longer can do the back-to-back events. See - amazing. Plus, Wildflower is a monster challenge of a course. It gives "hilly" all new meaning...particularly when you have to do the "Nasty Grade" after mile 42.

Anyway, I turn to the woman next to me after the Alexis blur goes by, "hmmm, I am shocked she didn't say 'hi',' she must not have recognized me." She laughed which she really needed because I thought the woman might crack from stress and nerves from her fear of our wave start. It was her first tri, her first mass wave start, her first time.


Getting back in the pool, thinking about that poor woman standing there shivering, knees shaking, staring at the water as though it was flipping her the bird, and starting this post yesterday reminded me of my own first open water tri debacle.

This sudden memory recall excites me to no end because now I realize I do in fact have a Tales of a Virgin Athlete story that I can submit for the contest. I really wanted to enter because it sounded like fun and I really could use the socks, but thought I didn't have a story.

Then I remembered the tale of the one arm man.

So instead of working on my Wino Wednesday tonight (or the other things I should be working on) I will be drafting my submission post in hopes that the panel of "athletically-minded" judges selects me as a finalist. Then all 14 of you (if that is even accurate) that actually read my blog will be harassed to go and vote for me. Because I really do need the socks. No really - I need the socks.

Second twilight - cancer - argh, enough said.

She is scheduled for yet another biopsy next week for yet another issue. WTF?

Attempting to be more positive, the Ta Ta party is moving forward wonderfully. There is only 1 person that seems somewhat annoyed by it, but I think it is because of other things going on with 'em. Another words, I am not taking it personal (odd for me) and frankly, I don't care. I love Eva Luna, I wanted to this for her, it turned out she was thinking the same thing, we are doing it! Even if there are just 5 of us gathered around in a circle feeling up the lump kit with an obscene amount of boob cupcakes being shoved in our faces.

A bunch of women alone eating pastry boobs - aw life, you are strange.

Third twilight - adoption journey - currently continued to be thwarted by fence issues.

I don't even have the energy to talk about the damn fence issue anymore.

So for now, I move forward with the tri training.

I swim.

I am going to swim.

Not flail about or panic,

but just swim

through all of this

put my head down,

stretch and reach,

and swim.

[Color] You to Find [Adjective] Hope Here

I know that video posts and a bunch of links can be annoying and are somewhat anti-blog, but that is what I have today (at least for now).

Caught this out of the corner of my eye this morning...






Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy



and I thought I would play this for you as well...




In my Dr. Google consults to deal with our Eva Luna's health crisis, I found this book:

Lopsided: How Having Breast Cancer Can Be Really Distracting
by Meredith Norton

Here is an interview with the author about the book and her experience.

About Health - August 4, 2008 at 2:00pm

Click to listen (or download)

I am a bit shocked at the parallels between Eva Luna and Meredith. Particularly, with her age at diagnosis, having a young child, sending a mass "I have cancer" email...the challenges of it all. If I knew how to entice a guest blogger, I would totally get her.



I had a conversation Friday night that reminded me of a bunch of things I was planning on posting about regarding adoption that temporarily escaped me due to sudden and unforeseen issues. I think it is time to start coming back to these issues. Particularly, as we move forward with our adoption process. Also, I was reading another blog this weekend and I think it is time to talk about some of our experiences, opportunities and challenges that have impacted our choices. Specifically, I would like to talk about the fost-adopt process and our experience so far. How we ended up here...our thoughts, hopes and fears. I did this but there is more to the story and so much has changed with me - in me - since this post.



I have to share this because I think if you have read my blog or know me you will appreciate this story:

At lunch today, a friend and I were discussing how someone we know seems to be struggling with "getting it" regarding Eva Luna's cancer diagnosis and how when you try to talk about it you get these random, bizarre, flight-from-reality responses. (Although, I think "getting it" is a challenge even for those that "got it" because it seems so unnatural and unwelcome in your life.) My friend says arms-waving in exasperation, "it is like talking to a romance novel." I lost it with laughter. Our conversation moves forward and we are talking about a million different things (okay, maybe 15), finally I asked, "I know I am not a romance novel...but what literary analogy would you use for a conversation with me?"



Without hesitation she responded, "mad libs."

Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

Welcome to the randomness which is my thought process today.

The following is a list of thoughts and things that you probably do not need to know or care about, but I feel like I if I get it out of my head, then my whole world will be better:

• Remember Blondie? Well she had an infection in her eye and I pretty much wrote her off and then surprisingly and amazingly she is healed and back to her "normal" self. We have been "mowing" lately which means that we shut the front gate and the horses are just allowed to roam around the house. Blondie is cracking me up because she is following me around the house from the outside. I go to bed and she is pressed against the wall with her nose against the bedroom window screen. I go to the kitchen and she is staring at me through the glass doors waiting on me to let the dogs out. Just hanging around, looking at me, letting me know she is ready for a trail.

• The plans for the "Ta ta to the Ta-Ta" party are moving forward. This morning I received an email that said "the lump kit is on my kitchen table." I let out an audible gasp of excitement at the news. This is my world...excitement over a fake boob with sample tumor sizes for a party...excitement over the words "lump kit." Sweet.

• On the cancer front, things are looking so much better...in an odd way, and she is feeling great and super positive which is even more bizarre when I say that they are now looking at the possibility of a double mastectomy and removing the ovaries. I teased her saying "the lengths you will go to for birth control is a bit extreme."

• Back to the party, I was thinking about some fun foods. Like, making a smore type delight with graham crackers and calling it "Mammo-grahams." Given the ovary issue, we could have "Deviled Ovaries" for deviled eggs. I need more ideas and if you have them, then lay it on me. You can not, repeat NOT, go too far with me.

• I am starting to run again now that I am officially getting better from the bizarre picture hanging injury. Really - that was so insane. Unfortunately, when I run it feels like my limbs are turning to lead. I am PAINFULLY slow and every step is a challenge. I am struggling with feeling my form. I went on a hilly 8 miler run/walk with a friend after the diagnosis week. I pushed through it. I have since been trying to just get out and do my weeknight 5ks and 5 milers. Of course, it is still dark early but now I just head out anyway. I have found I really enjoy running in the pitch black and sometimes feel even safer. But I am running so freaking Slooooooooow....hate it.

• Tuesday we had another meeting with our social worker for the home study. I think I could confidently say it went well if we all ignore the fact that at one point I was talking about my love of lesbian music, I complained about some of the marketing materials the agency uses to elicit interest for folks to look into adoption or foster care...oh and Leonard the 4 lb scoundrel escaped, ran down the street and satisfied his animal urges on a neighbor's rat terrier. So, yeah...great...this is definitely going well.

• Following the home study, I decided that I should go for a run after eating chili verde and having a beer. At mile 2.7 chili verde said "hello."

• We are going to have to completely - I mean completely change the fence and gate around the pool. This means buying a new fence - awesome. It is not just the cost but the whole installation part that has me stressed because I know that the guys are going to want to do it and with the cancer crisis and all it just seems a bit much. Oh, and we have our gym with a sliding glass door to the pool (the property sounds much nicer in print then when you actually see it - ask Cazadora)...anyway, the door from the gym to the pool is evidently borderline child abuse so we have to a) remove the door completely and wall it in, or b) permanently attach a barricade outside the door so that it cannot be opened.

• Periodically my inner green monster crazy infertile woman (hereafter CIW) gets really upset and attempts to poison me with feelings of isolation and pain. For instance, here we are in a family health crisis and we have no children, no family...someone will look at the kids and talk about the brightness that they bring to all of the stress...and CIW freaks out and gets all upset and feels disconnected and lost, and attempts to trick me into thinking that there is some expansive deep void in my chest that might just split open and swallow me up.

• CIW is truly annoying. I don't like her. She is wrong.

• CIW is also very noisy when we go through home study interviews and they start pressing me about my medical history, family background and job. I need to find a muzzle for her.

• Work is really stressing me out right now.

• I have a ride tomorrow (on a bike) and I can't decide to do the 25 miler, 45 miler or 65 miler. My mom wants me to do the 25 miler with her but that just seems too short and almost frustrating. The 45 miler would be a nice challenge...but the idea of a 65 miler when you are painfully unprepared for the distance is teasing me...I am torn, do I go easy and pleasant; challenge and good work out; or painful but you press through and do it (ugly but do it) kind of ride. Really do not know what to do here...

• I broke down during 30 Rock last night when they showed the clip from Harry and the Hendersons. Clearly my hormones are out. of. control.

• We are in the very early stages of looking at a sibling set right now. Pretty seriously - I should be over the moon. I am not. Julia's post pretty sums up some of this stress. Plus, I worry that this is just not the right time, I am scared that it is not a right match, I am petrified that maybe I am pushing something forward that is not good for either of us. Also dealing with fost-adopt red tape is a NIGHTMARE...that and I am fairly certain that at any moment the social workers are going to turn to us and say "Filoli, maybe motherhood is not for you..." I keep thinking when we meet them...if we meet them, maybe then we might know or feel something - right now everything feels abstract, intellectual, invasive and painful. Right after throwing myself the world's grandest pity party I remind myself that I am not 5 years old, my mother's parental rights were not terminated, my world is not in limbo and no one is going to force me to leave my foster family that I love and feel safe with at this time. Can I get an oy vey?

• I want a new bike...if I had a new bike I would definitely do the 65 miler.

• One of my dear angel friends called me the other night and talked me into a triathlon in May. So, I need to get back to the pool if I am going to swim over a mile in open water in 8 weeks. I am so glad that she has me doing this. I haven't registered for any events this year because I felt so topsy turvy with the adoption stuff. I must be starting to crack from the lack of an event to train for because even last week Alpha (husband) mentions that if I don't pick something out - then he will.

• I need to focus. I need to let go. I need to move on. I need to know that it will be okay.

• According to google, I need a visit to the bunny planet, private support, help, cash for exploration, an intern, our prayers and a lake.

• I definitely need a lake to get ready for May. Thank you, google.

• Yesterday at lunch I laughed out loud so hard and suddenly that I started to tear up and see stars. I love that. Why isn't there more of that?

Oh, and here is a sampling of music that has been lazily circling my mind. You don't have to listen, but I am not going to pretend that it won't hurt my feelings if you skip it.

See - CIW rears her ugly head again.

Enjoy - or not...

Seriously how do you put up with me?

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

* Really, really, blogger, you are going to screw with the playlist...fine, it is over in the sidebar...really.

* Additional Random Thought: I feel trapped bouncing between feelings of Tereza and Sabina...will I ever feel like Tomas?

Life Itself

For those that thought a cancer diagnosis in my family would scare me away from my passion of the fermented grape, the answer is a resounding "no." I am aware of the study talking about the links between alcohol and cancer. I am also aware of the study promoting red wine for heart health. I can even find a study promoting wine to prevent esophageal cancer. Not to be outdone there is yet another study promoting red wine for brain health and longevity. I also know that my stepfather-in-law's cardiologist is fairly certain that his recent heart health issues were due to him refraining from red wine for 3 months.

Here is the deal, adult world. Life is a risk endeavor. Choose your risks and understand the importance of moderation in all things (except for eating your vegetables).

In essence, a positive could be a negative and a negative could be a positive depending on the context. Oh no, context!

This is life. This is viticulture. This is wine.

Viticulture comes from the Latin root 'vit' - life, 'vita' - life itself.

Viticulture is not the same as agriculture. Agriculture is a science that seeks to eliminate variables, promote homogenization, mass production and consistency, consistency and consistency. Whereas viticulture seeks to encourage individuality and the cultivation of variables. (Granted this is a romantic notion and we all know that the wine industry has a dark underbelly but allow me my gloss. It's been a hard couple of weeks. Regarding dark underbelly, we will get to that someday.)

A fine wine is born in the vineyard. Ignore the fancy machines and computers. Even today the most notable wines take root in the vineyard. The life of wine starts from bare root stock and dirt.

What I find to be unique and fascinating about the grape to glass odyssey, is that fine wine, truly amazing, complex and deep wine is dependent on stress. As someone dealing with her fair share of stress lately, I have found myself many a night last week savoring a glass of wine and thinking "you survived your journey."

Vines need balance. In the vineyard, any one element of climate might be a positive or negative depending on the context - deja vu. For instance, a vine with too little leaf canopy may not give the grape enough food and burn the grape. However, a vine with too many leaves might prevent formation and ripening thereby compromising the fruitfulness of the vine.

It's a balance. It's life.

But my favorite thing, the thing that my friend and I were laughing about this weekend, is that grapes really need STRESS. Turns out good wine is a bit of a drama queen and needs a little adversity before it wows you.

For a vine, the ideal condition is not so perfect.

This may not be true for most plants. Particularly for the plants fighting to stay alive in my office. But for the grape, it is gospel. To create character and spunk in the fruit you must first have a challenge. Obviously, you can't stress them out too much. You don't want to put the vine in shock or permit conditions for the vine to shut down completely.

Just some stress is needed...enough to give you character and cocktail party stories.

So the wine grape must endure adversity. The grape must struggle so that it will learn to adapt. The vine needs to do a little work to grow, to be forced to concentrate the sugar and limit the clusters to create a perfect yield for the wine.

This challenge will result in a wine of greater character and concentration.

This pain is the making of fine wine.

This is life itself.

Waiting

There is a lot of waiting going on right now. There is waiting for referrals, waiting for court dates, waiting for paperwork to be returned, waiting to be waiting, waiting for surgical consults, waiting for surgery dates, waiting for people to get here, waiting to go somewhere, waiting to heal, worrying about waiting, waiting for things to change, waiting to see if things stay the same...

waiting.

So last night I was trying to calm down enough to write my letters for the sisters in the Blessing Way, and I was waiting for the inspiration to hit me. I was waiting for the words trying to figure out what it is that I want to say, what if anything could be of value. I am struggling with my sense of voice lately because I feel like everything is too emotional, too raw, too much. Then I started to think about Eva Luna's impending battle with cancer and I was looking for words that somehow describe fear, anger, love and hope...and pissed off. I have been thinking about what to give her, what to do for her, wondering if we should do a bead theme for her at the party...

you know random, tangential, pinball bouncing in your head kind of thinking.

So, I was reading a little Raymund Carver looking for thoughts and words, just trying to find a place to rest mine, thinking that someone has felt all of this before and will again,

and I found this, and my whole heart and mind thought of you,

yes, you,

no, not her or them,

you,

so for you I give you,

Waiting,

by Raymond Carver

Left off the highway and

down the hill. At the

bottom, hang another left.

Keep bearing left. The road

will make a Y. Left again.

There's a creek on the left.

Keep going. Just before

the road ends, there'll be

another road. Take it

and no other. Otherwise,

your life will be ruined

forever. There's a log house

with a shake roof, on the left.

It's not that house. It's

the next house, just over

a rise. The house

where trees are laden with

fruit. Where phlox, forsythia,

and marigold grow. It's

the house where the woman

stands in the doorway

wearing sun in her hair. The one

who's been waiting

all this time.

The woman who loves you.

The one who can say,

"What's kept you?"