Burns Night 2007

Gavin and Chris discovered my old professor's grandson and the three tore it up behind the Leper Table, where we were banished with our spawn. They kept it on schedule this year, and the boys linked arms and sang "Jingle Bells" while the crowd roared along to "Auld Lang Syne".

Mike approached the table afterward, and people parted as though avoiding an impending brawl.
"They all wanted to know if we're fighting," he said, looking back at his table.
"Yeah, I was asked a couple times if it was a 'nasty' divorce."
"I told them, nah, we get along fine."
"Yeah. We get along great, it's just the times I randomly punch you in the face during conversation that might give things away."
"Like how just now your finger clipped my nose. I felt that."
"Sorry, missed.”

Among the Po-sessed

"Here are your kitty happy pills! Just give her half a pill for every 6 hours."
I shook the bottle of half a dozen valium and wondered if they thought I needed some, too, or if they were just trying to kill my cat. My purse is a den of sin. Po purred nervously in her carrier as Gavin listened to her heart with his plastic stethoscope.

In the car, the smell of cat pee suddenly filled the air, so I rolled down the windows. Sensing an escape route, Po morphed into Nega Po and slashed in a frenzy at the carrier until the latch burst loose. There was a struggle for control of the car, and a tense drive home with one hand on the wheel and a panting cat stuffed roughly under my armpit while Gavin laughed hysterically. He later explained, with pantomime, "Po go FWOOOSH! YOWOWOW! And mom go UHNNG OOOF RRRR. Hahahaha." Great.

not with the sunshine

mom post

"MOMMY! Where are you?"
"I'm downstairs, baby. I'm coming."
"You need to sleep some more, it's not time to wake up yet."
I got under the covers with him in my work clothes and Gavin wrapped his arms and legs around me, kissed my lips. In the dark, I could just make out his eyes drowsing closed and I spread my hand across his back to feel him breathe. He's right, I need to sleep more. I woke up three times last night to find I was staring at him, soaking him in after days apart. When he was asleep again I slipped away to make his lunch, then crept up at 6:00am to wake him for school. He scolded me last week for waking him up by singing "you are my sunshine", so I snuck up on him and began humming it quietly while rubbing his back. He stretched and rubbed his face. "Mom. Please don't go hum hum hum." Damn. I sang "Beautiful Boy" into his armpit and he curled up giggling. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

In 7-11, I handed him a musubi from the hot box and let him pick out a carton of chocolate milk. "Mom, what you gonna get? You need to eat something for lunch, too. And get yourself a soda. But remember, don't drink it in the car, save it for when you get to preschool so you'll have something nice." I love this kid.

Notes from Seattle

I feel like something that has been asleep for a long time is waking up, like a dead limb. The moon is closing over this weekend, which seems fitting. The city smells like snow and pastries, jazz musicians on the corners with men in black beanie hats clutching cups of coffee watching them play. I'm monochromatic with blonde hair, gold earrings, tawny coat, and the hobos bow to me when I clip by as if they know I am their librarian champion. The conference freebies astonish me, and my shoulders are bruised from the 60 pounds of books I lugged into the post office. Liberated from the display floors, I flee into the heart of downtown Seattle, spreading across the couches in Anthropologie.

In the warm homes of my friends, I'm safe. I read bedtime stories to my friend's young son, wishing Gavin were on my lap as well. Looking out at the crisp mountains and seeing something very different than what I set out to see: everything.

quick trip to Bakersfield

Click to enlarge. And off to Seattle I go.

Shrubbery!




Burrito of Doom:




Sunrise over the Southwest Library:




Unexpectedly descriptive picture of me grappling with everything:




I get my own stairs, fancy


  Meet my new boyfriend, Joe:




The snow that shut down the mountain overpass. Oh no! Weather! Close the roads.

Consulting the universe

For every transition, opportunity, or significant event, it helps to quiet yourself and listen to the forces at large. Gather whatever small clues you can and interpret them like a fortune teller (a very self-fulfilling activity). For me, this is baking cookies. The process is as important as the end result. When we moved into the doomed Pink House, I blessed the kitchen with peanut butter cookies, but they were lacking a fundamental ingredient and fell apart in my hands - just as my home and marriage did. Proof of cookie genius! So today I grabbed the last chocolate orange from Christmas and melted it down with butter to read the future. The sugar took longer to dissolve than usual, which I take as one of my signs; with extra focus, steadiness, patience, and a little heat, everything smooths out. I chilled the batter, rolled the balls in confectioner's sugar, and fed my good fortune to a happy family.

Cookies of Converging Pathways:



Things are going to be delicious.

Going to California

Po has been under quarantine until her surgery on Wednesday. I let her out for some supervised exercise yesterday morning, and she waited until Gavin and I had gotten our boots stuck in the mud, then ran into the bushes. Hercules came out to help me look for her, climbing up the backs of my legs and dangling from my butt by his claws while I paced the yard. Finally I decided to lure her back to the house with food, and my mother ended up getting her after finding me in the kitchen eating mini quiches (cat's natural prey).

We attended the grand opening of the new bookmobile. The Chinese lion was getting tired of dancing by the time we arrived, but Gavin found the courage to approach the bobbing, panting creature and ram a dollar down its throat. When the sweating children beneath the costume limped back into the shade, a Hawaiian priest flicked water at the bookmobile in blessing, then, in an act of thorough dedication, had them cut the ribbon and went inside to bless the books, which made all the librarians in the audience bite their knuckles. As the crowd bunched into the bookmobile, we found ourselves in the awkward position of being the only people standing around on the lawn with children, and the library had been very proud to round up a local celebrity for storytime.
 

This guy.

Wally, maker of Famous Amos cookies

 

So we had to stay and listen. He was very enthusiastic (and his cookies are great), but Wally isn't a very good orator. My mom and I wanted to yank away his books and read them our way, while the other adults applauded every time he winked at them. I'm going to start bribing my audience with cookies, too.

Tomorrow

I'm going to be gone for a week.  First, Bakersfield, California, to see how it feels and maybe sign some paperwork. Returning Wednesday, I hug my baby for one night and then hop back on a plane to Seattle. My RMC friends are going to take me in and show me around, so I'm not alone at some hotel bar crying into my beer. I will be able to talk with my fellow mothers, sleep with snakes in the guest room, and go to the conference in my wookie coat. Also claim my free cat calendar at booth #1221.

how to clean a castle

133

Alone time with the kiddo

Gavin, upside down on the couch, watched me looking through a stack of CDs while Freddie Mercury offered to sail across the sea with me.
"Mom, why you putting on music and music and music and music?"
"Because I LIKE all this music."
"You should just listen to one song."
"No way, I'm having fun singing along."
"Fine. [said archly, causing me to look up in suspicion] I sing too... JINGLEBELLS JINGLEBELLS JINGLEBELLS JINGLEBELLS!"
"Nooooooo! Not with the Jingle Bells again!"
"MWAHAHAHA!"

Several minutes later...

"Smash, 'oh nooo!' Die. Fall. Hurt. Uh oh, what's happening here? It's a big mess! Wook, mom."
"Oh no! The pirates trashed the castle! What's that crane doing in the middle of it?"
"He going to clean up."
A moment later...
"Mom, wook! It's all cleaned up!"
"Wow, I'm amazed, look at that! You actually cleaned it! ...Wait a second, where did everything go?"
"In the dungeon!"
[reveals carefully packed dungeon, loaded to ceiling with pirate corpses and weaponry]
"Is that how you're going to clean your room when you're bigger?"
"Yep!"
"Too bad you'll be sleeping with me until you go to college, then."

Bad enough with my own closet piled with corpses.

NYE 2007

On the menu for 2007: run away to the desert to find my place in the world and get over heartbreak with the help of friends - with hope in my heart, a beautiful child, and tall stompy boots.



New Year's Eve at Aloha Tower

Gavin says, "Ha ha I made a face for the picture! Vroom vroom."



The boys hold down the table in the food court against the hordes of chair-nabbers:



Sparklers in the parking lot.

 

I think I've got something in my teeth

A red bow on the steering wheel and a blare of music told me that the Christmas elves had fixed my car speakers. They forgot to re-attach the insides of the passenger door handle, creating a handy little death trap. I drove to work with the radio drowning out my singing without all the usual pops and rattles. Dangerous, listening to music while the world is still tender around me and I haven't callused up for the day yet. The wrong song will shoot right through my chest.

Last night Gavin and I sat on stone stairs on the Boyscouts headquarters terrace while our RSCDS folks danced and laughed. I wrapped a blanket around Gavin's shoulders and we pointed at stars, watched small toads hop in the grass, and discussed what the world would look like if bugs could build houses. He held my finger and walked along the low stone wall. Small things, but really nice.

In other news, I have officially changed back to my former identity. I've got my name back.