Are We There Yet?

Labor Day Weekend We have 3 days of quiet here. There are no children to keep occupied. There is no rush to make the dinner. All of the dishes are done. There is, of course, the wickedly large pile of paper waiting to be dealt with...pay, file, toss. But I can ignore that for just one more day. Every single one of these moments is unique and that is the lesson over and over again. The wind has come up strong from the East as Hurricane Earl...gotta love a name like that... moves off to the North rushing to embrace the Cape breton shoreline and sink away at last into the frigid waters of the North. Because there has been so little rain this year, the trees seem to rattle their leaves with a worried fretful noise. Its a bit unnerving. How can this be September? But it is and I have made the annual red Roma sauce- rich and fortifying. I have made the annual apple pie. Perhaps there will be the apple pear crisp to really rally the troops as we move into crisp Autumn days. God knows I ha...

In certain lights, at certain times, my dog is green. She casts a glossy dark glow from spring buds and new grass as she saunters across the young forest floor. The four canadian geese up Highlawn each morning sun touched the eastern peaks. It goes so quickly. Life changes occur- we lose some to that cruel mocking question- Others are born. Hips, knees, shoulders are replaced after months of winter shoveling and recreation. Even so, young white scilla push up through gravel in the drive delicate as paper yet bursting with energy to travel through the toughest rock and stone and appear dancing in the soft spring breeze. Though, I know these things. I know the dog is sometimes green. I am amazed again. And want nothing more than her soft cool snout upon my palm as we rest once more by the curving wall on the hill.

there are any number of things i know. And so many of them have been passed to me from my parents, their parents and so on. The lineage that supports me is full of a rich and varied range of knowledge. I know what it means when the wind blows the clouds from the Northeast. Why the sky turned pale before a storm. That even of the darkest day, the sun will appear for just a moment at midday.I know the sound of a finch and an oriole, the wail of an owl and the cry of a hawk. I know when to plant garlic or daffodils, why we prune the roses and when. How ashes make the Iris thrive and pennies make the hydrangeas blue. I know that salt and baking soda will take up a stain from a carpet and newspaper and vinegar will make the windows sparkle. I know a dog's velvet ears and soft eyes will cheer and a walk in the woods will open the heart and clear the head. I know that to not say the thing that hangs hard in the air is to stop time. I know that even if you want to live in the moment, tomor...

Last week, after many months of struggle and enduring the pain and hardship of illness, Judy Marz died. We spoke about what the Spring would bring not that long before. And Spring is still about to arrive, whatever happens to us all, but without Judy. She brought me into a world that is about possibilities and love. We all gathered to her as she labored toward her next destination. Her oldest friends were there along with me, among her newest friends.

I was given the traditional all time best Christmas present, the "Bag 'O Books", this year along with a number of other books from everyone else who knows that I an a bookavore. My son and his girlfriend gave me a great book. ""The Best American Non-Required Reading 2007". Every piece, from poetry, lists, comix, memoirs, and short stories has been so engaging. Dave Eggers is the editor along with a group of high school students that he teaches in the Bay Area. Breakfast is better lately. The part of winter that makes me wince when I think of it has arrived. Rain. Freezing rain. And so much gray monochromatic landscape. It is difficult to believe that this same place is full of color and energy at other times. Now it is dead or asleep or both. Makes me tired just thinking of it. I draw the curtains and hope it will go away. I take long hot baths surrounded by candles. If I ever get to the point where I can write more than a couple of paragraphs before going ...

I had wanted to say every moment is precious, but that isn't true at least in my experience. What every moment is, is Unique. Wonderful or dangerous or dull it is only that moment in time. There is no recreation that I know of. The struggle that I have is two fold. One is recognizing the opportunity of each breath in and out and second is remembering. I heard someone speak about the R words recently. Recognize, Reclaim, Remember, Renew... I think it was probably a whole different set of R words But I get the idea. And its not about anything more than the Re of it. All is RE deemed with the RE cognition of what and who. It is just before Christmas. Our house is full. It is a blessing. Truly. This opportunity to be with the people that mean the most to me. Being with my daughter this last year has been an amazing RE membering for me. And with this holiday that has been an even more powerful statement.

I've been reading a string of memoirs lately. I have a friend who loves to talks books and shares the ones she's enjoyed. Well, its been one dysfunctional family after another for a couple of months now. What I don't know is whether I am relieved to have had such a normal upbringing in comparison or distressed to relate to so much of it. It makes me not want to ever read another Mother and Father were a wreck and I came out okay sort of book. Or even think of writing one. We each have our treasure- that event which we wrap our life around like the oyster muscle around the pearl. Bad analogy because the pearl is a beautiful thing. The oyster a bit of smelly slime. And my life though defined in large part by yet another dysfunction junction is ordinary. Marked by tragedy. Decorated with moments of great enlightenment. Touched by family and emotion. And still going strong. Its all about the next generation now. The son and daughter and their paths. My path is well marked. And ...