Not A Mountain

Goodnight Earth

2010-08-12T23:34:00.000-04:00

So for the last two nights I have woken up dreaming about names. The first night was boy's names. The second night was girl's names. I love names. When I was a little girl my father used to have a very old dictionary with a section in the back called "Common Christian Names". The binding was falling apart and the pages were so thin they were nearly transparent. He used to keep it on a high shelf in his bedroom and I used to take it down to read all of the old fashioned sounding names. Here are some of the names going around in my dreams...

Fulton Adirondack
Fulton Thoreau
Walden
Wally
Hallelujah
Heron
Arthur Heron
Drew Art
Mercy
Ponyo
Ponyo Adirondack
Ursulina Mercy
Thendara Mercy
Gloria Adirondack
Ursa Thoreau

Dear readers, I was truly touched by the outpouring of supportive comments I received today. Such JUICY-NESS! You all are the best. I want to send each and every one of you a hug. As a small token of my appreciation, I added some new music to the playlist. I hope that you like it! If you find it annoying, on the right hand side of the screen in the green box is the music player, and you can hit the stop button to make it stop. Thanks for missing me, and thanks for coming back again.

I slept a full night last night, woke up feeling great, and then slept another two hours in the afternoon. Everything is Just. So. Exhausting. The girls and I made some blackstrap molasses cookies. You weren't kidding, that shit is vile! The kids won't eat the cookies, but I figure if it looks like a cookie, and has the texture of a cookie, I can dunk it in milk and pretend it is really a cookie. I consider the alternatives. These will still slide down easier than liver-yecch! I think next time I will try some of that nettle tonic stuff.

In other exciting news: I GREW A CUCUMBER ON MY TOPSY TURVY. It is a damn fine one, too, all fat and green. It has been a very hot, dry summer and that cucumber was only coaxed forth with a good dose of determination.

In other, other exciting news: this morning there was no dead rat in a pool of rat blood on my doorstep. There was yesterday. Does some neighborhood cat fancy me, and want to bring me presents? I almost cried it was so gross.

No, today was a very good day. I found something I lost. I got out of work early. I got to take an afternoon nap in the arms of my love. My husband got some very good news in the avenue of his business. I am having fun imagining the trip to the amusement park I am planning for sunday. I love anticipation far more than surprises, don't you?

I'm just fucking tired is all.

Goodnight Earth
by Patty Wigington

The earth is big and fat and round,

I love the sky, the sea and the ground,

I love the birds and dogs and sheep,

and all the animals that fall asleep,

I love the flowers and rocks and trees,

I love the earth, and it loves me.

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Life Audit

2010-08-11T23:24:00.002-04:00

Fuck yeah, I'm still alive. I've been in the middle of a life audit. I've been taking apart all of the little pieces of my life, looking at them, knocking them about on the table and wondering if they are still good. I've got it all spread out in front of me.

1)Marriage? Challenging, but valueable.
2)Parenting? Golden.
3)Job? Bags of drizzling shit on a hot day, with flies
4)Apartment? Great, but ready for change/scared of change
5)Health? Totally retarded...anemia, I think?
6)Art? Dying of neglect.
7)Nature? Making good effort.
8)Spirituality? Reawakening.
9)Friends? Great, but always prepared for greater. Wackier.
10)Future? Feels bleak.
11)Finances? An embarrassment to my upper middle class upbringing.
12)Happiness? Hovering at 75%
13)The Ex? Still grateful! Still gone!

I've been having talks with the Universe about "some things", and shockingly, the Universe talks back. I throw out the questions, and then something will happen that is an obvious and direct answer.

God is good, all the time!

The question was,"I want to change EVERYTHING ABOUT ME! Where the fuckity-all do I even START!?" The answer was an invitation to a class on Peruvian Shamanism. Now, The Secret says that when an opportunity arises, you have to grab it! and take it! The Universe does not like hesitation, right? So, what do I do? Hesitate! This class is expensive, and I am broke. Every penny I spend is money I have taken out of the mouths of my children, I think. Then I also think, it is okay to do something for yourself. It is okay to try something new and to dive into an interest. But then I am back to, well, what do you DO with THAT? Does it serve a purpose? Does it have a monetary value? A spiritual value? Or is it just mental masterbation because you are bored with your sad, sad little life?

The class doesn't start until february, so I've got lots of time to think. Plus, I've got christmas and my birthday in there, so I have time to save up the money. And time to change my mind several times.

I consulted my advisors-

My husband..."I can't advise you on this. This is one you have to work out from your gut. Of course, I will support you either way."

My coworker..."That is really cool, but that is tooooooooo much money. You can learn that stuff on your own."

My mom..."Hahaha! Wait, are you serious? Well, you could go to ONE, and then see if you think it is valueable to keep going..."

I'm looking for a new house, but I am not moving anywhere that is not COMPLETELY awesome.

Me-would you be mad if we didn't move right now?
Younger-I want to move before winter!
Me-The experts say it is not good to move children all the time.
Older-The experts are totally ridiculous! I want an adventure. Adventure is GOOD for children! We are an adventure family. We have been in this house too long.
Younger- We've moved a bazillion times and we like it! That's for only when you change schools and you lose all of your friends and stuff. We can stay in the same school. We vote MOVE!

In other news, I haven't been to a doctor, but I think I am severly anemic. After some research, I have discovered that I hate all iron rich foods and survive solely on foods that block iron from being absorbed by the body. I have been anemic before, so I am aware of what it feels like. It feels like the morning after a sleepover where you had a great time, got no sleep and ate cake and pizza and soda and then had to wake up early the next day...times twenty.

So, one thing that is rich in iron is something called BLACK STRAP MOLASSES. Does anyone know what to do with this stuff??? I've got a bottle of it. Now what?

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

It is too hot to think of a title...

2010-07-25T21:16:00.003-04:00

I am so flattered that people want to know where I am. I'm right here!

misc. wrestlers at the dojo

It is a sunday, so my husband and I delivered papers at 6 am. The bed of the truck was completely full of sunday papers-this route is so long! We have some apartment complexes on our route, square, communist-looking monstrosities without elevators, so up and down, up and down the stairs we go. The thermometer in the truck said 94 at 7 am. So, say it was in the sun, it was at least 85 before the sun had even risen over the trees, with a gazillion percent humidity.

My husband was soaked from sweat. He looked like he had showered with his clothes on. I do not sweat. I'm incapable of sweating, so I turn fire engine red and wheeze in the most attractive manner. Also, my hair is HUGE. I kind of like how weird it makes me look. I brush out my curls and unveil it's full mass, then I go to the grocery store to scare the "norms". This is what I have to do for fun in this town.

What else have I been doing for fun in this town? Oh, baby showers. Four young women at my office are expecting. All boys. I have been invited to four baby showers, two of which were yesterday. Add to that a kid's birthday party, and two sleepovers, and you have the soccer mom's rock n' roll lifestyle. Blue crepe paper, blue cake, little blue outfits by the marching military masses. I won the game of "who can name the most baby animals!"

Watch this:
Baby swan? Signet
Baby frog? tadpole
Baby fox? kitten
Baby panda? cub
Baby owl? owlet

Boo-ya! I got it. My friends, with all due respect, didn't know what a baby horse was. REALLY? You really, really don't know what a baby horse is called?

Not a pony!

A foal.

Calling a baby horse a pony is like calling a baby human a midget. Incorrect. Sorry. You don't win the blue baby shower prize. You need to go home and read your Ranger Rick that your grandma got you for ten years and never even opened, because if you DID you would know that a baby horse is a FOAL.

(My husband says he had Highlights magazine and that is why he now hates The Environment.)

So, Mountain, why does your hand look all purple?

Well, I'm so glad you asked!

I was just, you know, using kool-aid to put purple streaks in my kid's hair.

Tomorrow is the first day of Peace Camp. She has to look her best!

Love and light,

your friend,

Mountain

The Entry After The Turtle Story

2010-07-17T14:48:00.000-04:00

It is not that I didn't know how to follow the turtle story, it is just that I have been working every day in my cubicle, every evening in taking the children on a soul-enriching outing, and every night on social media projects for my husband's business. Other than that, I've been bored! :) If you see me on facebook for like 7 hours at night, it is not that I have no life. I am NETWORKING for BUSINESS, ok? Good. Get it straight. In one week, my husband's fictional wrestling character has 83 friends, and that doesn't just happen on it's own, people.

So, I saw the massive wall swiftly approaching called :::::::Burnout, but I was moving so fast there was nothing I could do but hit it squarely with a mighty THUD.

If I was my previously more spiritual and observant self, I would have gotten the tip when everything in my house broke at the same time.You know, the radio doesn't get stolen, the check engine light doesn't go on, the expensive theme park tickets didn't go missing, the china butterdish that was the one nice thing from the old life doesn't break, the tv doesn't break, the computer doesn't break...........are you getting the idea?..................just for no reason. Was the message slow the fuck down? I don't know, I went by too fast.

My father told me that being busy and worried and overscheduled is just the part of life that I am going through right now. He tells me this while sitting in the sun with his pipe, reading a novel. "It will pass." I keep trying to remember that this is my time to hustle, and then put my shoulders down and work a little bit harder.

Then I tried to get up at 4 am and help on the paper route. Yes, we are doing the paper route again. Yes, those babies just got in a habit of eating three times a day, and I can't break them from it. This is a bigger and better and more lucrative paperroute, and it will be over OCT 4. We are not doing it one day longer. I put my foot down. I want a ticker at the bottom of the page to Oct 4...END OF THE PAPER ROUTE. So, I tried to get up at 4 am, and I did, and I drove while he delivered, and then I was dead. I mean, I got to work, but at work they were like,"you feeling ok?" See, I was quiet. Real quiet, and it set my coworkers on edge. Ms. Personality was shut down for the day, and my supervisor, bless his heart, was nice enough to send me home. My job is very slow right now, so it is ok.

Yesterday I just layed in my bed and said I was sick. I felt dizzy. Multitasking is the devil. I read once that the quickest way to burnout is by multitasking because our brains are just not set up to do 17 things at the same time like I always do. We feel like we are being efficient, but really we are just frying the circuits.

It's not all bad. We have no debt. We are afloat. We have no credit cards. The bills are paid. We have food, a lovely apartment, lots of cool neighbors and a great school. We're healthy, strong, smart and honest. I have a huge, loving supportive family. I just want more power in the choices I have in life.

So, today I set to work on the reset after the crash. I went for a bike ride with the kids. I asked my husband out on a date. We spent some time walking hand in hand and talking it out. I love that I can always trust that he is doing his best. He fucks up frequently, but he is never lazy, lying, stealing or cheating. He suffers most from inexperience. I help him prioritize and think things through (yeah, there is the blind leading the blind!). We move forward one step at a time.

The girls are running a lemonade stand out in front of the pizza shop on this sweltering day. Life is never easy, but it is good.

The story, how I heard it...

2010-07-12T23:00:00.001-04:00

so, like, me and my boy was drivin by this park, right?
and I say, yo, stop the car?

and he's like what the fuck?
and I said that is a straight giant turtle in the road, g!
and he said, like, whatever

and I was like, no, we gotta save him
and he was like, whatever, muthafucka

that turtle is straight

and I was like can you believe some nigga just left him here? He musta been a pet

and then he was like, No, that muthafucka too big
and I said whatev whatev
and we turned the car around

and I'm tellin ya this muthafucka was HUGE

HUGE!

HU_GE!

and it

have like a long tail and shit?
you ever seen a long tail on a turtle? Like what the fuck, right?

so, we go to pick it up, me and this negro
and it's like hissing like a mofo

and this thing is HEAVY
and it like darts its head out at us like dis
like dis, see?
and it has a point on it's mouth, like a beak

but, yo, I know how to handle this shit, right?
I mean, I gotta save the turtle, yo, right?

so I get a blanket, me and my boy, we get this blanket, right?
and we trow the blanket over the giant turlte muthafucka
and we put him in the trunk!

but, like this water starts pouring out of him
and it stink like a mother.
like stink to holy hell

Mountain interjects-Hector, that might possibly be turtle pee?

so the muthafucka pisses all over me, and my blanket, and thankfully
my friends car, right? Haha!

so, we drivin

we got the giant turtle, yo
with the weird ass long tail
and it fuckin stinkin
and we took it to this like, nice pond and shit

that aint got no roads around it and shit
and then we gotta get it out of the trunk, right?

so muthafucka gives me the blanket
and now it stinking and wet and shit
and the turtle is doing it's head like dis, see

and that beak shit is sharp!
and I say to my friend

you watch that tail, holmes
because it is possible that he is getting ready to hit you with that

and if that shit hit you, watch out!

right?

so, of course, I gotta grab the turtle
cause negro aint gonna help none.
did I say it was heavy, because when I say heavy
I mean that turtle was huge and HE-VEE

and it's got it's tail goin, and it's got it's beak goin, and it's hissin
and I'm grabbin it out of the trunk
and I got it, right? I got the turtle
and I can't leave it there

so I like put that heavy mutha down

and it don't move none.

So I like, tap it, yo
I like tap it, and it goes like a foot, then stops.

So, I like tap it again, right?
yo I tap that fucker again

that stinky fuckin turtle
and it goes another foot
so I gotta go tru this process all the way
to the mutha fuckin pond, yo.

and my friend is laughin his ass off
but I'm just laughin on the inside, yo
cause it be his car that stinkin!

and the turtle finally gets to that pond,
and he swim away

and he swim away just like dat.
Believe dis. Truly beautiful, yo.
Truly. Believe dis.

Photos of an Evening Walk

2010-07-10T14:16:00.003-04:00

Ya see, cloud, what you have to do is RAIN!

It is finally raining! Hooray! Hooray! I have never ached for rain before. Usually northeastern summers are steamy and green. This long, long wait for water is not the norm at all. I really began to feel an instinctual pull from inside, like a dog before an earthquake. I looked at the sky and contemplated the broken clouds.

Last night I walked with the girls along the same route I have walked hundreds of times before. We walked to their old school, the one I faithfully walked back and forth from 3 times a day when the little one was in kindergarten. The same one we walked to for school concerts. The same one we walk to after a good evening meal to stretch out legs and see who else is at the playground. I took along a camera, figuring what I have seen a million times might be new to one or two of you!

We met up with a neighbor walking her dog. I was taking a picture of my foot. She said,"What ya doing with that camera?"
"Scratching a creative itch,"I say. "I sit in a cubicle all day."

The days have been in the high nineties. Like in the winter when you open the door and brace yourself for an arctic blast, this past week you have to mentally prepare to enter the oven. My parents to the north have no air conditioning, and are just walking around the house naked. Those yankees just are not prepared for this kind of thing. They will be laughing at the southerners when the snow hits, though.

I haven't been doing anything at work but sitting at the reception desk, transferring calls to the executives and perfecting my Bookworm game. They won't hire me for the position because I have a disciplinary action against me for poor attendence, so every day they call me from my position and I do the job without being awarded the title. I consider this an afront, and don't try to hard.

This town was supposed to be temporary. This was supposed to be a few months to appease the civil court system into awarding me full custody. Five years ago. Now I realize these will be the streets the girls remember as their home. These are the streets where they learned how to ride bikes, where they chased the boys they like, where they caught fireflies.

love and light,

your friend,

mountain

June in Photos

2010-07-08T20:47:00.004-04:00

The Rose Garden in June

Come on, let's run!

It's hot! Let's go over to Nana's and see if we can use the hose.

We are hungry! What can we EAT !?!

You guys like hamburgers? They are almost ready and they smell good!

Ok, we can play just a little longer!

My best friend and her husband are here from Vermont, checking out the city life.

BFFs FOREVER!!!!! Why is your head half the size of mine?

Good thing we are so good lookin' cuz the boys luv us!

I don't know why you are laughing! We are HAWT!

Oh, say! Can you see?

2010-07-05T22:38:00.001-04:00

Hello? Is there anybody out there? Just nod if you can hear me...

You know, you think I waste my time on the computer, but really, I'm doing important stuff...
7 Wacky Jell-O Molds from Around the World

I had a lot of lovely invitations this weekend, but I declined them all and stayed close to the house. We spent the fourth with my husband's family, just five blocks away. We didn't even pay to go to the swimming pool.We waded all the way down the freezing-cold city creek and sat on our towels reading paperback novels. I people-watched with one eye. A black lady in her red family-reunion-shirt stopped me and respectfully addressed me as "Mama!" Not like, "sexy Mami" but just as one mother to another. I love it. More people should address me as "Mama!"

"Mama, do you want fries with that?"
"Mama, can I make your appointment for Thursday at 3:00?"
"Do you know how fast you were going, Mama?"

My check engine light is on. My TV is playing DVDs really skinny all of a sudden, like XTREME LETTERBOX style, and the switch that turns the computer off and on is broken. My pretty white china butter dish got busted. My car radio is still stolen. My bank account is empty and I am feeling a bit perturbed. OK, really pissed off.

So, I did what anyone would do.

1. I pulled everything out of my living room, cleaned it and rearranged it.

2. I bleached my slipcovers. Twice. Yes, my couch is white. Yes, I have two kids, a cat and a bunny. Yes, I am insane. Watching me wrestle the couch cushions back into the slip covers after washing would have made you pee a little from laughing so hard.

3. I signed the girls up for THREE free summer reading clubs. Borders AND Barnes and Noble give away free books, and the TD Bank gives the kids ten dollars and their very own savings account. If you've got kids, and you are near those chains, check it out! If it is free, it is for everybo-dee!

4. We went to the mall (slowly-check engine light!) with a four dollar gift card and a handful of change. We stretched that out to buy three packs of silly bandz and a big bag of mints from the gourmet candy counter. We rock! I stretch dollar til it screeeeeeeeeams!

5. I dumped out my jewelry boxes on the bed and we culled the necklace herd and tried to reunite the broken earring families. Oh, it felt sooooooooo good. I've been wanting to do that for years. I can't find one wedding earring, though. Wedding earring, come home! We are sorry, whatever we did!

6 .I worked on a business facebook page for my husband's dojo. Here's the catch-you can't friend anyone once you've made the page! So, we have to promote it by hand. By actually SPEAKING to people. How archaic.

7. I went on a bike ride with the girls. This was something new. At 92 degrees in the shade, it was over fast. I did discover some new bike-riding muscles I wasn't aware of, even on such a short jaunt, and I am definitely sure that my pelvis-bone is a different shape than it was last time I was bike riding, 12 years ago.

For the traditional holiday we did traditional holiday stuff. Relatives. Corn on the cob. Pasta salad. We sat in a graveyard so close to the fireworks that ash was falling on me and I was deafened afterwards, just as if I had been to a rock concert. We sat at the foot of the grave of William Mosser. Thanks, man. I hope you don't mind!

I was walking along in the graveyard, dragging a big blanket, yelling at the kids and feeling sorry for myself (like ya do!) and I hear,"Mountain! Hey! Over here!" There was the family who owns the 17 year old dog, all spread out on a blanket on top of the departed. We happily joined them. From our vantage point, we could actually see the firework displays of several little towns going off all at once. We could see plumes of light edging up over South Mountain, and fireworks going off at the amusement park, too. Is that how it always is in the city? I have always been out in the country on the 4th.

Loving my freedom, in theory.
Loving my country forever.

love and light,
your friend,
mountain

Tuesday, Sunshine, Park, No Cubicle

2010-06-29T21:07:00.000-04:00

Hi guys! Guess what? I actually got sent home from work today for a PAID vacation day. Whoot! So here it is, a lovely tuesday afternoon, and I am just waltzing in from the park! Suh-weet!

Today at the park with younger daughter:

YD: Wouldn't you love to have that big house overlooking the park, Mommy?
ME: I would love it. Sometimes I get really tired of being poor. It's not really that I want a bunch of things, but sometimes I feel like I am not giving you and your sister everything you need.
YD: Mommy! That's ridiculous! If you weren't giving us everything we needed we would be dead already.

Last night I did some astral travelling.The universe and I had to have a chat. I guess it has been far longer than I had realized since I had exercised that particular muscle. My mind kept wandering off, and I pulled it back, wander, pull, wander, pull, but I was able to go the places I wanted to go and do the things I wanted to do. This morning when I awoke I immediately heard my intended results. How's that for fast service! I could tell from just the way that my husband climbed the stairs to the apartment that he had gotten the good news he hoped for. He had an early am meeting with the owner of the wrestling building. I put in a cosmic request for a certain landlord to feel flexible and open-minded. He did. The dojo stays open for another month at least.

When I awoke, I also had one hell of a "hangover", for lack of a better term. I felt exhausted, and everyone at work keep asking if I was alright. I didn't know how to tell them that I sent my soul travelling outside of my body, and that might be why I can't remember my password to access my computer. I've been doing this since I was eleven, but what is normal to me is not necessarily normal to the rest of the world. When I read about shamans in the books written by Carlos Castenada, I thought,"Well, you don't need peyote for all that..." I must have looked like I had spent the night on peyote, though. The Goddess was kind again, and when the phones at work slowed down, I got sent home with pay.

I think that my husband and I have successfully navigated the current rapid shoot we found ourselves in. Even though we did not make the profit we anticipated, we have regrouped, recalculated, renegotiated, and seem to be canoeing along again. I hope.

Have A Little Faith There is Magic In The Night

2010-06-28T23:32:00.001-04:00

My commutes to work have been very quiet. I don't like the gaping maw in my dashboard, waving wires at me impudently. Fuck it. Today was so stressful that I felt like sticking forks in my own eyeballs, but I'm trying to put compassion at the forefront, right? Compassion. Om, shanti shanti shanti.

In the town where I grew up someone spray-painted on a train bridge,"Have a little faith, there is magic in the night..." It wasn't until much later that I realized that those were Springsteen lyrics, but still, it is a great comfort of an expression.

Om, shanti shanti shanti...have a little faith, there is magic in the night.

I was so generally disgruntled today that I had no interest in dinner (!) and when I called my mommy to whine about my problems, she was in an airport in minneapolis and it was awkward to have her shout into her cellphone. With nothing else to do, I let the kids take me on a walk and we wandered by a friend's house.

"Mountain! You are good at fixing things!"
"I am?"
"Yes! Do you know anything about trampolines?"
"You got a trampoline!?"
"Yeah. I've been working for the past six hours in the ninety degree heat trying to put it together!"

Thus, I spent my evening on my hands and knees underneath a trampoline threading a cord through the protective netting and tying it to the lattice underneath. It was perfectly absorbing and just what I needed. I felt useful. My friends have two little girls also, and the four waited so patiently for hours just for a lovely bounce. My husband and his best friend stopped by for a cigarette, and still I was under the trampoline, tying away, happy as a clam. I am really weird, I know.

The girls and I didn't get home until 10:30. We stumbled on the uneven sidewalk pavement because we were so tired. Ivan the 17 year old dog went home today. Alive. I still need a goat and a car stereo.

This is what I had to say on June 28th, 2007-

"I am astounded by B. I have never been loved so unconditionally. I hope he doesn't change his mind about me. I would understand if he does. Perhaps, on some level, I push him away to test him. He passes every test. He is a miracle.

I am a turd."

B. is my husband now. I'm still a turd.

But a handy turd!

Love and Light,
Your Friend,
Mountain

P.S.-Leave me a comment. I get them at work and they keep me from sticking forks in my eyeballs. Usually.

Emotional Evolution

2010-06-27T23:25:00.001-04:00

Sunday night. Muggy. My hair up off of my neck. The 17 year old dog paces back and forth, back and forth. The desk is littered with chinese take out boxes. My husband lays ,with all of his clothes on, on top of the coverlet. That is as close to rest as he allows himself to get. He lays rigid, like a corpse, when he is sleeping. I kiss his lips sometimes, in the middle of the night, just to make sure they are still warm. He says I love you without waking up.

We went to three parties today. At the third party, a baby shower in a rented fire hall, my younger daughter found her breaking point and I knew I had only minutes to exit before the total nuclear meltdown ensued. It starts with hyperactivity, followed by excessive clinginess, then disporportionate overreactions...you know what I am talking about, moms? The overstimulated, over-caked child is ready to CRASH!

We made a swift and gentle exit, and on the way home my elder daughter says to me,"Mommy, I feel so bad that we had to leave your party early. You never make us leave our parties early, and this was your time with your friends. " Man, you could have knocked me over with a feather. My elder daughter's true gift from god is a huge compassionate heart. I never would have taken notice to a thing like that. Not at 9, and probably not now. I'm a narcissist, you know. I wasn't mad about leaving the party. I was just as happy to go home, but it really meant so much to me to have my feelings recognized by my kid. HUGE. I wonder what she can do out in the world with such a sensitive attunement to the needs of others? I hope she can keep that. Life can beat it out of you.

I do try to instill this virtue. I say,"How do you think that made her FEEL?" I say,"You know, that person may be wrong, but you will get out of this situation faster if you first address their FEELINGS...". I say, "It made me FEEL great when you did that so kindly." I notice that some other kids never think of others. Their parents think that as children they are naturally selfish and greedy as a symptom of their immaturity. I think they are allowed to be selfish and greedy because they aren't taught any different. They don't grow compassion as they mature spontaneously, without guidance.

When my girls were born only 18 months apart, I forsaw A LOT of sharing issues. I will tell you what I did right away. I knew I couldn't keep track of what was who's and how long they had been playing with it, so I just said,"We share everything." Even if it was a toothbrush (well, maybe not a toothbrush), if the other kid wanted it, the sisters had to share. If it was the case of a toothbrush, I probably would make the kid give her toothbrush to the other, only just to look at, not to put in her mouth. If I heard the word "MINE!", I took the toy away and ignored their squawking. By age two, they knew,"we share everything" was the rule, and there was no discussion of whether they were going to have to give up the doll or the cookie. It didn't matter if it was new. It didn't matter if it was your birthday. It didn't matter if the other kid had no use for the thing. Yes, you gotta share. Yes, every time. Yes, it may not feel fair, but it the long run, you know that you will get shared with, too, and you have learned to be a nice friend. It really worked for us. It set up a household culture of thinking of others feelings.

I was writing in a paper journal about some of the things I feel that I have accomplished in life. None of them were traditional accolades...I got this degree. I won this prize. I got first place in this or that. I haven't done any of those things (yet?). Everything I've done comes under the category of emotional evolution.

- I mended my relationship with my mother.
- From rubble, I built a strong family unit.
- I helped my children heal from the loss of a parent.
- I instilled in my children a spiritual reverence for Nature.
- I healed my post-traumatic stress syndrome (mostly)
- I cut out toxic relationships.

Maybe I just NEEDED the most emotional evolution. I was born a neanderthal. :)

People often say that our children are sent to us to be our teachers. My serious, big-hearted Elder daughter, often taking on more responsibility than she should, puts compassion in the front of her life. She inspires me to do the same.

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

My husband is searing tuna steaks

2010-06-26T18:54:00.003-04:00

with a freshly squeezed orange sauce for dinner. I bought those expensive tuna steaks a long time ago and stuck them in the freezer and forgot all about them. How lovely! The Cowboy hasn't been happy this week. His long awaited wrestling show came and went. The show was wonderful, but it just wasn't promoted properly, and we didn't sell enough tickets. We had been so looking forward to a triumph, and now we are only further buried. His parents are travelling in Puerto Rico on vacation, visiting family. When he told his parents how the show went, his mother just passed the phone to someone else without saying a word.

I look at it like this. He made 99% great decisions. The ring looked great. It was set up and ready early. The venue was beautiful, nicer than any other place I've seen a show in. The talent was awesome. The show was safe. Everyone there had a great time. We didn't mess up any of our equipment. We only needed some more butts in the seats, and we know how to promote. Next time (if we make it to a next time!) we will promote about 25x harder. How we are going to make it to a next time without the necessary capital is the current puzzle. Microloan, anyone? If you buy us a goat, we can turn our lives around. :)

Meanwhile, life has been coming at me very, very fast. I'm stuck in some giant, cosmic wac-a-mole game, and those fuckers just keep popping up. There was a huge product recall at work, and we had to adapt from being open 10 hours a day to being open 24-7. I took some midnight to four am shifts. Cool. I can do that. It is refreshing to be out of the box sometimes.

I walk in stride with people
much taller than me
and partly it's the boots but
mostly it's my chi
and I'm becoming transfixed
with nature and my part in it
which I believe just signifies
I'm finally waking up

-Ani DiFranco, who else?

My in-laws went away for a week, so we pretty much moved into their house, only five blocks away, to take care of the dog and things. The kids' long golden-brown limbs hung off of the couches, wrapped in scratchy afghans, bathed in the blue light of The Covetted Cable TV til seriously late hours. We came to a happy medium with the tv. No Disney. Rare Nick. "Yes,Please!" to Bindi The Jungle Girl! I love her!

Then my best friend, Anna, dreadlocks to her knees, decended upon us with her husband, her son, and her two dogs. They are on a road trip and came ramblin' through. How many dogs are we up to now? Three? Right.

3 dogs
1 cat
1 giant bunny
Some fish
1 fulltime plus overtime job
3 kids
2 hippies
1 suicidal wrestling promoter
and MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Yee-haw!

Man, I love these people. My friend and I are a little like country mouse and city mouse. She comes from the woods of vermont, but the poverty and the schools there are so bad that she and her family are shopping for a new place to live. They are heading towards Asheville, NC, and I wish I could go with them SO BAD! But, my life is in this post-industrial shithole, for better or for worse.

I took them to a municipal rose garden at dusk. Our children acted instantly related, and ran far ahead of us. I can't believe that we have been friends almost 25 years. I can't believe that we were children together, and now we have children. The kids climbed to the tops of trees. The dogs took long drinks from the creek. Anna, the naturalist, pointed out all the trees and told me which plants were safe to eat. She taught the kids to make salads out of tiger lilies and wood sorrel. Anna's husband almost wept from finding ripe mulberries, a thing from his childhood in Missouri that they just don't have in Vermont. When the fireflies came out from the fronds of the weeping willows, it just became completely perfect.

Then they were gone again, in a flash! I was back to work in the "wee smalls" in the call center, where all the supervisors were running around like chickens without heads, and there were gum-chewing temps with odd eyes all over the place.

The girls' paternal grandparents were here. They took the girls out for one day and the girls came back with new outfits and leftover pizza. They gave the girls expensive amusement park tickets. I felt hugely uncomfortable, not because they aren't nice, but because I feel like they only see me as the poor, abused, abandoned mother. It is at times like these that I would like very much not to be fat, and to give the appearance that I have it all together. Oh, bother. My ragged edges are what make me Me, right?

So, then... I am babysitting my friend's 17 year old dog. Yes, this is really my life. The dog is blind and deaf and doesn't really walk so good. He bonks into walls and his legs splay out too wide when he tries to walk on the tile floor. He kind of seems like a hairy reptile because he is all bones and leathery skin with occasional tufts of wirey grey hair. He's a looker, let me tell you. He can't figure out where he is, so he just topples over in the hall and the kids yell,"Mommy! Is Ivan dead!? No, he's breathing! Nevermind!" Somehow he got behind the dryer, though, and ate the attachment between the dryer hose and the wall. Surprising gumption, for a seventeeen year old canine.

Someone stole the stereo out of my truck this morning. On second thought, send a goat and a car stereo.

Thank you for your support.

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Serenity Now!

2010-06-19T14:15:00.000-04:00

Today is the day, PEOPLE! My husband's wrestling show! Today! Nothing else is going on except the girls have a girl scouts sleep over, work is running a major recall and are demanding all hands on deck, my in-laws are in Puerto Rico and we have to house sit AND my best friend and her family are visiting us at last from VERMONT!!!!

WHEW!

No time to write. Just wanted to let you know that I am here and I am proud of my man. I will take pictures!

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

The Assumptive Cupcake Ritual

2010-06-16T23:21:00.008-04:00

Respectfully stolen from es.toonpool.com

Making cupcakes pisses me off. It's just the whole ASSUMPTION about the thing. You have a kid. You start being required to make cupcakes. Cupcakes are not a quick project. There are stages and waiting and icing and I don't know how people always put the exact right amount of batter into the little paper cups because how do you know how much it is going to rise???? How do you KNOW!?

Whatever. My older daughter's birthday is in August, but summer-birthday kids get to bring cupcakes in for the class before the end of the school year.

I think there is something to this whole Assumptive Cupcake Ritual . A mother expresses her love by going through this whole long, chocolately ritual. It's like the Japanese tea ritual. It's not about the tea. It's not about the cupcake. It's about the time and beauty and love that you put in. I love you so much that I will devote an evening to making you some stupid cupcakes.

From a mix. Don't push it, kid.

Can't I draw a picture? Can't I build you a tree fort with a pulleyed bucket system? A lego-block shopping mall with little security guard with a yellow head and a miniature revolving door? Nice, right?

No. It's the Assumptive Cupcake Ritual every year for every kid across America.

Older Daughter, international spy

Older daughter, I love you. You are an astoundingly complex and compassionate small person. I love how you have faced down a really difficult social situation in your new school this year. I love to hear you play your guitar and pretend to be Taylor Swift. I love how you took on being a bonafide Girl Scout with such zeal. You are my pint-sized Batman, always fighting for justice without the fanciful super-powers of weaker heros. You are the only kid wearing pink in Paris. You are the personal assistant that I always wanted, and I take my hat off to you. If it's cupcakes you need, I'll do it. But don't expect it on the regular.

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Revisiting The Postal Service or Hot Damn! I love Pandora!

2010-06-15T00:32:00.005-04:00

Hi! How are you?

Things are pretty tame around here. T... A... M... Zzz...oh!... E. I've been so responsible lately. Parental. A model employee, even. Gah. My husband's time to shine is coming soon, and it is very hard for this card-carrying narcissist to share the spotlight of The ME Show. Adrenaline used to be my drug of choice, and lately I'm about as much fun as an SAT proctor and a tax auditor comparing support hose.

adrenaline junkie: (from urbandictionary.com)

Someone who gets high on adrenaline and possibly addicted to it. They usually supplement this addiction by doing activities that give them adrenaline rushes such as shoplifting, gambling, skydiving, stock market trading and possibly fighting.

Guy skydiving: "Oh my god this f****** awsome."
Observer: "Wow look at that adrenaline junkie, he just can't get enough of it can he."

What can I do to cause TROUBLE????
Remember how I used to be, people? No, don't try to remember. It will only hurt.

The good news is that I have created THE PERFECT PANDORA STATION and it has been giving me an eargasm all night long. Do you know pandora? You pick out music that you like, and then it mixes it up with other songs that the magical machine *thinks* that you will like. So, I like to throw a monkey wrench in, and I tell the magical machine that I like Ani Difranco (duh), White Stripes, Bob Marley, The Cure and Janet Jackson! Take THAT, magical machine! Well, I told it that, and right now it is playing a song that a short-lived boyfriend used to croon into my ear as I fell asleep in his sweaty twin bed. Oh, swoon! How did the magical machine know that? He knew all the words to songs that he liked. I had forgotten that I liked anything about him.

Here is the extensive list of things that I liked about him, unabridged and in entirety:

Beginning of list
1. He thought I was cool when I was at the very bottom of my suicidal pit of despair.
2. He worked at my favorite independent movie theater.
3. He sang me this song when I was falling asleep.
End of list

Here is the song:

Sigh.
Maybe something will happen tomorrow.

Bread and Roses

2010-06-13T22:08:00.008-04:00

My friend, Madame One Tree, wrote a response to my depressive lament over my abundant size. Click here to check out a burlesque show by a Big Grrl over at Madame's place! I absolutely adore Katherine Lashe, and Madame has good thoughts. I'm glad to find a woman who shares my passion for the Divine Feminine.

In other thoughts on womanity, my dear Anna sent me this:

Song Lyrics of Bread and Roses

As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,

A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,

Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,

For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!

As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men,

For they are women's children, and we mother them again.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.

As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead

Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.

Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.

Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.

As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days,

The rising of the women means the rising of the race.

No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,

But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;

Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses.

    I like this song, and I would love to learn it and sing it with my girls. I hope that classicists do not object, but here is a modernization of the old song, remade in honor of international women's day:

    My mother taught me a lot of the peace songs that she knew, and we thought it appropriate to sing them to my nephew while he was trapped in the car with us on the way to Woodstock! We sang,"Where have all the flowers gone?", "Blowing In The Wind", "We Shall Overcome", "We are a Rainbow Made of Children" and even "If I had a Hammer." I wonder if my mom knows this one? I bet she does. I wasn't raised by wolves, just hippies. We sing a lot.

   I spent my day as women all over the world probably did. I did about twenty dollars worth of laundry at the laundromat, sorting, folding, and hauling with my daughters. I scrubbed the bathroom. I scrubbed the kitchen. I cooked nutritious meals at home. I delivered food to my man at work, little ones following behind me. The children went to the corner store with pocket money. I spoke to my mother. I cursed the humid weather. I scolded my children. When the weather broke, and the rain angrily pounded down, I sent the children outside to play in the downpour, mostly to get them out of my hair. Not much different from a thousand of my ancestors, and in its own way, rewarding.

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

A Saturday Unscheduled

2010-06-13T11:37:00.002-04:00

    The girls caught fireflies tonight in the alley behind the house. They saved a plastic container from the farmer's market, poked holes in the top, and collected eight lightening bugs in their butterfly nets. The girls only hold the bugs for a short time before releasing them back to the urban wilderness. The night air is heavy with humidity, and their hair hangs loose, thick, and woolly over their sweaty necks.

   With stomachs full of mango slurpees, a surprise gift from The Cowboy, they trudged up the apartment stairs to build a fort in the livingroom. The cat gives constructive criticism with an arched eyebrow. A blue bedspread pulled tight over the couch and tied to my spindle-backed chairs becomes a canopy. Stuffed animals, pillows and quilts are shuttled underneath. Brave Bedoin princesses close their eyes, lids reflecting the blue light of cartoons on tv.

   The Cowboy is dressing for a late night meeting at The Republican Club, which has very little to do with political affiliation and a lot more to do with dollar beers. He asks me which shirt to wear. I choose the black, which matches his hat. He looks so handsome, and he is so excited that the energy just radiates from him. Only one more week until his first big wrestling show under the name of his own wrestling company! Things are coming together, but even his relaxation is work. He may get to drink a beer tonight, but he will be meeting with guys to discuss additional show dates and venues, concession percentages and ticket prices.

   My saturday at home was actually a treat. I tried to do as much as I could without the car, since my husband and I have to share one vehicle lately. After being away the last two weeks, it was nice to walk with the girls through my very own neighborhood, going to my spanglish-speaking bank, taking note of the cornflowers growing wild by the sidewalk, and picking up hot pretzels for the girls at the farmers' market- Younger's favorite! I treated myself to a vegetarian gyro as big as my head. We checked out the grand re-opening of the corner market. We chatted with a freckle faced kid from school. We walked over to visit some neighboring friends, observing the giant sycamore trees and the spring time rabbits nibbling on dandelion. The day was hot and the girls' cheeks were flushed.

    This is the time I get to discuss all sorts of topics with my daughters. Walking is very good for that. "When I was a child, the autistic kid wouldn't have been in your classroom. The little girl with down's syndrome wouldn't have been in your girl scout troop. They kept people with disabilities separated from everyone else because they held things up and slowed things down. What do you think about that?" Sometimes we hold hands, and sometimes they run ahead. Overall, I think I walked about four miles. I read somewhere that people in other countries walk an average of five miles a day, just going about their normal lives. I wish my life was really set up so that I could do more without a car.

   My new year's resolution was To Relax. This is actually a real struggle for me. The goat inside this capricorn wants to be climbing the highest mountain, getting a phd, running a marathon and curing cancer all at once. I have to remind myself NOT to schedule, NOT to pressure myself, NOT to push to the absolute limit. I have given myself a year to try to learn to really relax. Taking time for walks, vegetarian gyros and chatting with freckle faced kids really feels good, for a change.

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

2007 Rerun: Wicca Books To A Good Home

2010-06-12T18:39:00.004-04:00

I found this in an undisclosed archive, written three years ago today. I thought you might enjoy the rerun!

Wicca Books to A Good Home

Let me begin at the beginning. I am a wiccan. I started buying books on neopaganism when I was about fifteen, saving my money and paying full price because I couldn't get the information at the library, and I didn't know anyone with whom to trade. I stacked them up at the back of my altar, then just the top of my babyish yellow bookshelf, cherishing them and touching them gingerly and lovingly. I stacked them so that I could read their titles as I lit my candles and chanted my prayers. My parents were supportive of my new interest, luckily, because I have stuck with it for more than ten years now.

My ex stole these books, and the many more I added to the collection in later years, to use against me in court. To accuse me of being a satan worshipper and an unfit parent, and to hurt me because he knew how highly I prized them. He still hasn't returned them.

My favorite aunt, a witch herself, went to an auction and brought home SEVENTY-FIVE wiccan books. I cried when she gave them to me. It was as if the universe had repaid me.

I bought a huge bookshelf and faced it every morning when I awoke, my treasures being the first thing I saw.
And I realized, these books symbolize something wrong being righted, the rape I felt by being stolen from, the betrayal of the person I most trusted. The energy has been returned in the action. It was not held in the books. I no longer needed them.

I have studied, I have loved, and I wanted to pass them on. So, months ago, I went to my favorite wicca shop with big bags, and the lady oohed and ahhed, exclaiming,"And this one is out of print!" She gave me a good sum of money for only a few. I went home with a lot.

I discovered a great lady in the owner of this shop. She is such a mother figure, as many wiccans can be. You just want to hug her. She was tattooed recently by BoSo with a cresent moon on her forehead, just as the priestesses in The Mists of Avalon. She told me what a great guy he is. "Oh, if I wasn't married!" she said.
Today, being short on cash, I brought the rest of the books back to her. I brought the girls with me, and she is just a gem with kids. She talks to them and gives them respect. She took the time to get some dragonsblood, and show them that it was a root from a plant, not actually the blood of a dragon. She sprinkles them with fairy dust glitter, and they just fall in love.

She looked at my books, and said," I am so sorry! I have no money." I looked at her, and I said,"Well, you should just take them. They will be passed on to the right people here."

Today I gave ALL of my wicca books away, save maybe three. It felt great to give back to my community, like leaving a fifty dollar bill in the collection plate.

She asked why I was getting rid of them, and I said,"Well, I don't need them, I know all of that stuff." Then I realized I sounded like quite an ass. "Not to sound too cocky..." I stammered, blushing.

She looked at me, and even though I have only met her a few times, she told me it was nice to see me looking so happy. What a great compliment! She invited me to her Litha ritual, even though it was otherwise full, and I felt honored. She told me to take anything I wanted from the shop for trade for the books, and I found on the bookshelf a book on handfasting, the wiccan word for marriage. I traded for that and considered it a done deal. Maybe she will be able to officiate at the wedding!

I have had such a hard time finding my niche here in pennsylvania. I feel so happy when I meet someone that I can click with.

Blessed Be! Merry we meet, Merry we part, and Merry we meet again.

Love and Light,
your friend,
Mountain

Long About Knee-Deep In June

2010-06-10T23:26:00.006-04:00

Elder practices for her first guitar concert*

Last night was the music concert at the school. They fired my younger daughter's inspiring and all-around-perfect teacher, regardless of my speaking before the school board and my writing multiple letters. I am hoping that there is a cosmic reason that I just can't see from my perspective. I hope that even better things will rain down on this lovely lady after she leaves our school. I'm plenty sad and angry about it, and I didn't like going to the school feeling that way for a school concert. It took the fun out of it for me.

Me and Dad being ourselves *

I got to check out the bully after my daughter. She has a full bra, a skin tight spaghetti strap top, edged with black lace, and giant hoop earrings. She is ten. She looks older than me! She wrote and performed her own song, which was impressive. I congratulated her after the show. (TEN BIG-OF-ME POINTS!) I can see how she could eat my kid for lunch in the back of the school bus, though. Yikes!

I woke up today with a stomach ache. When work was slow, and they offered people the chance to go home, I took it. I slept for three extra hours. I think things have been going by too fast for me lately.

How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something but to be someone. -Coco Chanel

Come, sit with me on my blue plastic chair, and let's blow off work together!

I drop my fears into your ocean

and watch them sink from sight.

I place my fears on your broad earth

and see them rot away.

I put my fears into your hands

and they are no more.

When you offer your arms to me,

Great Mother,

your hands hold nothing but love.

-A Book of Pagan Prayer, pg 222

*asterisked photos by my sister

Love and light,

Your friend,

Mountain

The Big Deep

2010-06-07T23:51:00.001-04:00

A Woodstock, NY celebrity, photo respectfully stolen from the web

Every time I sit down at the computer to blog I feel like I am stealing time from responsibilities I have to handle. I went away for the weekend, and wrote down what had to be done for the pets and the plants, and that alone was three pages. The Older has Official Campbell's Soup tomato seeds growing on the widowsill and my topsy turvy cucumbers are growing like gangbusters, people! The hospice-donated flowers are going against their origins and LIVING. June is bustin' out all over.

I woke up in the morning with my nose stuck into the nape of my husband's neck. I can not explain how much our relationship is healed by sharing the same bed. I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking about sleeping, in the same bed, at the same time. Sure, he is only there for four hour stretches, but I'll take what I can get. He is so happy right now, preparing for his big show. Sometimes I think the anticipation is even sweeter than the event. Right now, before it has happened, the upcoming show is *perfect*.

Life is beautiful, and coming at me very fast. One school project is finished, and another is soon due. One laundry load is finished, and another is begun. One work day is finished, and another soon follows. I have been away for the past two weekends, and feeling like a jetsetter all of a sudden.

My brother and his family visited my parents from Florida, and I finally got to spend some time with my super-amazing nephew. My only complaint is that they treat the mini-human like a Ming vase. We made short work of that, rolling him in the dirt. We took him swimming in a wild swimming hole, in the cold rain, much to his delight. The swimming hole was like a private fairyland, even the adults had to swim in the rain. Sitting on a blanket, blue from the cold, peanut butter sandwich in hand, he yells out,"I LOVE PICNICS LIKE THIS!!!!" Stick with us, kid. He's only four. He's totally delicious.

We went on a day trip to Woodstock, New York. I was tickled by how much my little daughter loved that place. "There are so many beautiful dresses!" The sun came out and everything was tie-dyed and psychedelic. I wondered into a little spiritual bookstore, and I bought a book of pagan prayers. The woman asked me if I was on her mailing list, and when I said,"No," she told me I looked like a local. I was sincerely flattered. I kept thinking of my husband, but he couldn't come with us. His work is mostly nights and weekends. Still, having a relationship like ours lets you never take your time together for granted. I definitely prefer it to being joined at the hip. Again, anticipation is good.

Here is a song I like for you:

I am reading: A Book Of Pagan Prayer

I am avoiding: laundry, dishes, personal finances, exercise, multiple promised web design projects, etc.

I am praying: for the little one's AMAZING teacher's contract to be renewed

I am grateful: for still being Punky Brewster on the inside.

love and light,

your friend,

Mountain

Good News From The Adirondack Mountains!!!

2010-06-04T14:53:00.001-04:00

where my heart lives

Well, big news! If you have been following me all these years, you know that there is a box in my brain labelled,"Fretting About My Parents' Adirondack Camp." It's a long label, but it was a big brain box. My parents bought this hunting cabin in 1983, no central heating or running water. When I was a child I spent at least one weekend a month there all year round. As I grew, my parents' interests went in different directions, and the house has fallen into disrepair. Basically, they fixed it up really cute and cosy in 1983, and haven't touched a thing since. Now, 27 years later, just about everything in the house needs to be replaced.

Over Memorial Day weekend, I made the five hour trip up there with my family. I took a look at the house. All I could see was decay, and I didn't even know where to start. I was so mad that my parents didn't seem to care! The truth is, they didn't know what to do, either. They debated selling the place. They thought they might add on, but if they were going to do construction, they didn't want to move anything in the house that would later be torn out. The situation seemed to be in stalemate.

When I was a toddler, my mother hung white contact paper up in the outhouse, and all of us kids and all of our visitors drew pictures and left messages on the walls. Now, the drywall had molded and rotted, and the paper was cracked and faded. There was almost nothing to save. I sat in the doorway of the outhouse last weekend, and let the tears flow down.

I drove the hour to the big hardware store, and bought new wallboard and contact paper. I took photos of all the doodles that were still visible. I got a crowbar and tore the disgusting drywall out. Wet leaves had rested against the wood, and the farther down I went, the more decay I found. I pulled out old nails with a hammer. I cut new wallboard and hung new contact paper where I could.

I got a rake and started raking. I cleaned out around the firepit. I weeded the stairs and the flowerbeds. I found a packet of wildflower seeds and sprinkled them. Over the years, the tree had absorbed the pulley for the clothesline, so I ran to town and got new pulleys and line. I climbed up the ladder and put up a new clothesline.

In the house, I cleaned out the medicine cabinet, throwing out bottles marked 1985. I bought a new welcome mat, and laid it down. While I was doing all this, my parents' had a guy come and look at the house. He looked at the foundation, and the pipe of the woodstove (not up to code!). My parents deliberated and decided to add a second story loft to the house,with a folding up staircase, and expand the deck space.

We are not selling! We are building on!

Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!

Man, I can not describe the RELIEF I feel. I don't care, really, if they add on or not, but watching the house fall down was ripping my heart out. I hope that the new project will renew their interest in the space, and they will remember why they fell in love with it in the first place. The whole family was so happy. My mother's dream has always been to expand. My father didn't want to ruin the original integrity of the house by adding water and heat. I just wanted the house to get some attention, and now we all have our way!

Meanwhile, the girls got plenty of time to play on the beach of the lake. My husband and I got a lot of time walking around town, holding hands and eating icecream. My older daughter said,"I am the most happy here! I am off of the charts of happiness when I am here!" I am so grateful that I can give my girls that, as my parents did for me. My husband seems to be falling in love with the place just as much as I am. He's no natural mountain man, but he has discovered a passion for campfires and chopping wood.

Now that I know that the house is saved, I'm not satiated. I want to live there. :)

Ur Doin It Right

2010-05-25T21:37:00.001-04:00

Yesterday I felt like one of those LOL CATS. I'm sure that you have seen them around the internet. Here is an example:

Aw, so cute!

But this was me yesterday:

Thank you for all the supportive comments. My best friend once told me that moods can be like weather whilst depression is the overall climate. Yesterday's mood was a freak thunderstorm with hailstones the size of marbles. There was no weather service warning or time to get into the cellar. As fast as it arrived, it passed.

I woke up today still feeling mild self-pity, but by evening I was sunny again. I'm not in the middle of climate change, only temporary bad weather. I don't know what gives me these self-hatred jags. I lose all compassion for myself.

It would be really hard to be miserable today. I travelled with some coworkers to a special event I helped promote to collect hair for Locks Of Love, an organization that collects hair for cancer patients' wigs. We were treated to an elegant lunch at a white tableclothed restaurant, driven around in a big ol' gas-guzzling Lexus SUV, and didn't have to do any work at all. I didn't have enough hair to donate to Locks Of Love, but I organized some coworkers who did. We had lots of fun laughing and joking on our field trip. I brought along The Book Of Questions, and we entertained ourselves with that on the road while we were stuck in traffic.

Not much time to write, but I wanted to let you know that today was a better day. I don't want you to worry.

Love and light,

your friend,

Mountain

Realization

2010-05-24T23:13:00.003-04:00

I was crying big boohoo tears on the way home from work tonight, all over my mossy oak steering wheel cover. I saw a photo of myself posted at work for all to see, and I didn't recognize myself. I'm HUGE. It is not only that. It's just that I don't see ME in there at all lately. I can look into my own eyes and not find the old friend who always stared back. An abstract concept to be boohooing about, I guess. It's not just fat. It's becoming someone who I don't much like.

I want to stand up on a mountain and yell,"I'M AWESOME!" I know I am awesome, only you can't see it right now under the fat, and the business casual attire, and the frizzy hair, and the glazed-over expression. I AM BRIMMING OVER WITH AWESOMENESS. It's in here. Somewhere. Wait. I can find it. Just hold on a minute. I just put it down a second ago.

Wait, when did I put my awesomeness down? Was it New York? Virginia? Los Angeles? What year was it? 2004? 2002? 1997?

I looked at my own photo and I saw a fat girl working in a cubicle in a sagging sad little post industrial city. I don't see capable. I don't see thinker. I don't see strength. "THAT'S NOT ME!" I want to holler. "I CAN DO SO MUCH MORE! I'VE GOT A TEN THOUSAND GIGAWATT SOUL!"

Where?

Where is that soul?

When was the last time I used it?

What do I do now?

It appears that I don't know what I'm talking about. Again.

2010-05-23T22:07:00.002-04:00

Last summer, when I still had a leg to stand on.

I know that this is a developmental milestone, but all of a sudden my darling daughters have become sullen and surly. It's that natural pulling-away-from-mama-and-forming-my-own-identity thing. Hate it! It upsets me greatly. Have I suddenly become embarrassing? No, children, I was always embarrassing! You just weren't paying attention. I love them, and I know they love me, but we have entered enemy territory in the attitude department.

What?
What's that you say?
You think I might not be a good role model when it comes to the issue of attitude?
I have no idea what you are talking about.

I also have no idea where my camera is. I have no idea about so many things! So, you don't have pictures of my fun and exciting weekend of yelling at my girls in various locations across the Lehigh Valley. We will have to use our imagination.

Everything I say is mean. If I gave them a pony, they'd want a GOLD pony. If I gave them a GOLD pony, they would pout and tell me that their sister's is shinier.

Testing limits! Testing limits! Is this the limit? Are you sure? Can't I bend it? What about now? Is that really the limit? Really? You sure? Why? Why, mom? Why is that the limit? My friends don't have limits.

I have banned the disney channel from their lives, even when they are visiting. That made me popular. I think I might have told my older daughter, when she was declaring that her life was ruined, that she could call me after she was enrolled in an ivy league college, and we could broach the issue then. Mwaahahahahahaha! Ok, that might have been mean.

I did go on a lovely date with my husband on friday night, though. I discovered a new place to walk. It is called a nature conservancy, but it is really not conserved nature. It is very structured and gardenlike, a misnomer, but pleasant in its own way. They built a little pond with blue orchids blooming all around it, and filled with the most adorable frogs that were just sitting there, eyes sticking out of the water, as if to say,"Are you leaving yet?" They were so cute I wanted to stick my hand into the duck weed and grab one for myself. Then, right when my husband went in for a smooch, I could place the frog on his shoulder for safe keeping so I could passionately throw my arms around his neck. Next time. It really did seem like an enchanted place, and I would love to go back with a book sometime, perhaps a parisol, perhaps a dress with puffed sleeves, perhaps cucumber sandwiches, and fully soak up the loveliness.

THURSDAY I'm getting my wisdom teeth out. My friends tell me that it will feel like a kiss from a kitten. My husband and my mom promise me that my sinus issues will be a thing of the past. A THING OF THE PAST, I TELL YOU! Although, I'm doing pretty alright as long as I keep drinking my Naked Green Machine Juice. I call it my immune system in a bottle!

Are you still reading this? Is this still on?

I'm going to bed.

love and light,
your friend,
mountain

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else. ~Emily Dickinson

2010-05-17T22:47:00.002-04:00

Hello, Darlings!

I've been a piss poor blogger lately. My head is empty. I feel like I've said a lot of what I've Had To Say, and pretty much everything is redundant. I miss the little niche I'd carved out for myself in previous incarnations of this publications, the small community of readers. My writing was dependent on that exchange, and a lot of my old pals are doing other things, too. My blogging addiction has abated, and now I spend a lot more time DOING. Maybe I've just come to the age where contemplating my navel is passe. Have I outgrown this passion, or am I just in a dormant phase? Not sure.

Things are most excellent, though. The doing has been delicious. I have been organizing a salad club at work. This is part of our social responsibility and sustainability project. Once a week, everyone brings in a veg, we store it in the work fridge, and then we have communal salads available for the taking any ol' time. 13 people signed up. Today was the first day, and I enjoyed my salad very much, thank you!

I also wrote a silly little team newsletter at my boss' urging, and then he passed it up the chain to corporate. I was a little embarrassed because it was mainly a goof, but they LOVED it. They think it is wonderful, this positive "corporate culture" we are building, so my ego was very inflated.

I'm proud of myself because I took the most deplorable job, stuck with it, and found some things that I could contribute to the group. I've almost been there a year, and I don't find that fact to be something to cry about right now. I feel appreciated and useful, and I'm so grateful for the change. I know that hanging out there will not get me to the places I want to go in life, at this rate of pay, but still I have found plenty to be grateful for. I read a heartening statistic about millionaires. The median age that they found their calling was 45, and the median age that they became millionaires is 54. Not that being a millionaire is my focus. That is only the way Money magazine measures success. The point I took away is that I still have time to grow. I'm not done yet.

Weekends are a marathon of trying to squeeze as much as possible into two days. It is a race to be active, to be social, to expose the kids to culture and positive life lessons, to take care of the house, and also, don't forget, be awesome. This weekend I worked on my faux patio. Our door opens right up to the sidewalk. We have no yard, no patio, no deck, not even a stoop. Still, we set a table and chairs right on the sidewalk, and there many a beer has been drunk, romantic candle-lit dinners have been consumed, guests from overseas have been entertained, even movie nights have been hosted on the laptop.

This weekend I bought some super bright blue plastic Adirondack chairs. I wanted the wood, but they had to be "finished" and I have no place to stain chairs. I found an amazing lion fountain in the garbage, and I set that up and put flowers in it. My neighbor saw me mucking around with my chrysanthemums from last year, and she brought be pots and pots of flowers. They were donated to hospice, but I guess not enough people were dying, so we got them! Win-win!

The girls gave me a topsy turvy tomato growing thing. I don't like tomatoes, so I am trying my hand at cucumbers. I put that all together, and hung it up by the front door. Now I've got my topsy turvy, potted plants, Adirondack chairs, a table, and a fountain-thingy! I can sit there and watch the pizza patrons come and go. I can pat dogs as they walk by. I can watch the girls skip rope or do chalk drawings. I can inhale my husband's second hand smoke.

Here's more on the Topsy Turvy, my new toy. I took some pics, but I'm not happy with them, so I'll get back to that later.

This weekend I also stumbled on The Mother of Community Garage Sales. I was planning to go hiking, but I ended up just walking the neighborhood up and down as if it was a tree-dotted shopping mall.

Things Obtained Whilst Garage Sailing

Books

-How to Raise An Emotionally Intelligent Boy(or something like that)
-Travelling With Children Workbook Thingy
- Vroom, Vroom, making trucks, 'dozers and cars with stuff you have at home (or something like that)

(all for my nephew, age 4)

-_The Family Under The Bridge (for the girls, although I absolutely fell in love with it!!!)

A Wooden Lazy Susan with four glass carafes, for salad dressings, very elegant (my husband makes SUPERB dressings lately)

A purple blouse for work

Toys

-An electronic circuitry set (unopened)

-A chemistry set (unopened)

-A science gross-out card game (unopened)

-A Maisey Mouse board game (again, for my nephew)

Four green place mats

Some of those green bags that keep veggies fresh

I like making bullets. They are fun!

My younger daughter was with me, and we figured that by the time we were done we had walked at least 3 miles, smiled and chatted with many neighbors, and had a fabulous shopping spree.

My teacher always said I was bad at closing paragraphs. In closing, I'm still here. Life is good. I'm grateful. My husband gave me a coconut Popsicle while I was in the bathtub and I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Your average every day run of the mill stress.

2010-05-12T20:54:00.000-04:00

So, today I was on the phone with the bank and the guy was trying to do something on his computer and just to fill the air said,"So, how was your day?" and through gritted teeth I said,"STRESSFUL!" I'm nothing if I'm not honest.

my bookcase that held my cd collection was knocked off of the wall by the children and broke into a million pieces.
I was talking about how I can't get connected to things because things are always being broken or stolen or taken away from me by the court system, and just as I said that, my husband bumped my arm and I dropped a priceless handmade mug my mom gave me and IT broke into a million pieces. I guess I made my point!
I got an overdraft fee for an old bank account I forgot I even had because my bank spontaneously decided to charge it fees for no reason at all. That's ok, though, I got it waved.
I am STILL dealing with bullies and my elder daughter. This time the girl attacked my child on the bus, then was stupid enough to prank my home several times, and I just used the caller ID and spoke to her father. Haha!
I found out that the situation with discipline on the school bus is going beyond annoying and into the realm of dangerous. I have to work and am not able to pick the kids up from school and I haven't yet found a workable solution. I feel like Winne The Pooh..."think, think, think!"

I did have a very fruitful conversation with a school facilitator about the bully situation. He frankly told me that some of the girls in my daughter's class came to the school with some major behavior problems. They weren't aware of these issues at the start of the year, but now that they are getting to know the kids, next year they will be better prepared to handle them. He personally has taken the time to teach my elder daughter how to play chess at recess, and so has gotten to know her pretty well.

I am so impressed with this guy. He is the most amazing communicator I have ever seen in action. He made me feel heard, he made me feel like my issue was important, and he made me feel like they are working on it. The school is brand new, so I know they didn't have any discipline protocol in the beginning of the year, but I can see that things have evolved even after only one semester under their belt. The talk was good, but of course I am holding out to see positive action.

The parent that I had to call was pretty receptive, too. I guess I have gotten braver than I used to be, because of the good practice I have making telephone calls to aggravated people at work. I was nervous calling a bully's dad, because what if the bully's dad is an even bigger bully, right? This dad was very polite and receptive, though, and the little girl apologized this morning, so I feel like I did the right thing. A scary thing, but the right thing.

I also think that parenting fucking sucks right now, and is a lot of work! I love it, but I am certainly right down in the thick of it these days lately. It is a challenge to take care of myself and them too. I don't feel as pretty or as fit or as educated or as pulled together as any of my peers that I grew up with without children, and I realize I seem to have gone into some parenting state recently that is close to the very first few months of infancy...it is taking 110% again. I'm back to the feeling of I-haven't-taken-a-shower. It used to be because I was up with a baby, but now I'm working-full-time-running-to-girl-scouts-calling-the-bully's-dad-helping-one-practice-guitar-congratulating-one-on a-good-fractions-test-cleaning-the-cat-litter-packing-lunches-and-looking-for-the-lost-permission-slip! Gahhh! Who has time for matching earrings or mascara?

I've seen over the years that these things come in waves, so I'm sure it will pass...or I will die of exhaustion. Mom out there, what age was the most challenging to YOU?

Love and Light,
Your friend,
Mountain

Sprinkle Your Own Pixie Dust

2010-05-09T16:05:00.003-04:00

I have adhd today. I keep starting one thing and leaving to do another. I think I am overwhelmed from yesterday. Yesterday was our BIG TRIP to The American Girl Store in NYC. The day was so perfect and beautiful and dream-come-truish that I could cry just thinking about it. Sometimes, something clicks, and everything goes right.

Sometimes I feel like a squash ball being raquetted against a wall repeatedly at high speed. Sometimes I feel like the bottom rock of a mossy grass wall, just holding it up and that's pretty much it. I designed yesterday to be a fairytale-come-true for my daughters AND for myself, and the day unfolded like a lotus flower until I could nearly pass out from the strength of my spiritual gratitude. I know, that sounds dramatic, but if you read some entries from back in March, you could see that I really REALLY needed a Good Day. I was in Good Day starvation.

I've turned a corner. I'm not going to be a squash ball or a rock holding up weight. I think I am going to develop my inner fabulousness. People don't wake up fabulous. You have to craft it, create it, design it. You can wear a sundress instead of sweats. You can take time to make your food lovely on your plate instead of just shoving it down you gullet. You can be the Queen of your own very small, imaginary country. You can add a little sparkle to what you do daily. As far as I understand, no one will do it for you. If you want your life to glitter, it will only come to be if you sprinkle your own pixie dust.

This does not mean that I will turn vain and vapid, only caring about my hair and nails. This does not mean that I feel like a crash diet will solve all of my problems. I want to enjoy life, and it really came to me while holding my little girls' hands in the Big Apple, walking down Fifth Avenue, each one of us in brand new outfits. I don't know if I am expressing myself properly. It's all kind of pretzelled in my brain right now. Sometimes the good things occur because you planted them there. You grew them. You nurtured them. You harvested them.

I researched the trip. I budgetted for the trip. I saved the money for the trip. I planned the trip. I organized the trip. I lead the trip. I was fabulous. I enjoyed the trip.

Creating something beautiful in my mind actually came about in reality to be wonderful and beautiful. THANKYOU UNIVERSE!!!!! It is highly unlikely that I will have the energy to create another one like that any time soon, and that is not really what I learned. What I learned is that I DO have the energy to add a LITTLE bit of that extra pizzazz into my daily routine. Tea in a lovely mug. Beautiful music for the morning routine. Stopping a moment to enjoy the songbirds. Wearing the jewelry that I have stuff in a box.

Don't know. Still thinking about it, but I have to run off for dinner at my inlaws. Happy Mother's Day!

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Buddhist Menopause and Sleeping in a Sunbeam

2010-05-03T22:44:00.000-04:00

I called my mother and told her that I went to a women's circle this evening for Tibetan Buddhists.

"Really? Did you bring a friend? What, are you Buddhist now?"

"Nope," I told her. "I just walked into the room full of Tibetan Buddhists and was like 'hey, how's it goin?'"

"Did you say,'Hey, Buddhists, look at me! I'm a Wiccan!?' Very brave. I would have needed a friend."

"I'm better without a friend. What if the friend does something weird and then I'm embarrassed?"

"True,"said my mother. "Trust no one. I can understand that."

The women's circle was about aging, which really seemed to be about menopause, and turning 50. I was the youngest one there. I wanted to tell them that aging happens from the day you are born. In fact, my little one wanted to come along, and she said,"I can come! I'm aging! I'm aging right now!"

The place is so beautiful, a lovely complex built into the side of the hill, with a meditation room with hardwood floors and windows overlooking the spectacular view. The people were nice, and I would love to go back another time, even though I didn't have much to add on the topic of tibetan buddhist menopause.

My older daughter was terribly sick today, throwing up without ceasing and scaring the hell out of me. I took the afternoon off to sit with her. I bought her gatorade and chicken soup and a redbox movie. In the afternoon, I asked her if she wanted to go for a little walk outside, and she got out of her jammies and into shorts and a teeshirt, and then fell asleep in a sunbeam on the bedroom floor. I thought she had passed out, but she told me no, she just wanted to be in the sun. My poor sweet baby.

I'm tired and running out of gas. More on my exciting life later.

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

My Weekend

2010-05-03T14:07:00.005-04:00

This weekend we found ourselves surrounded by friends, sunshine, and a few snails.
Hungry?

Mini-me.

Pennsylvania Monet.

Acting as normal as they know how.

My ex husband and his 3rd wife.

My tiny yet amazing Annie, and her HUGE house.

Sunburn #1, 2010

Deep thoughts, with a tree

Making an acorn whistle

My lovely elder daughter says,"Don't you want to come along, next time?"

Relaxing The Best Way I Know How

2010-05-01T20:35:00.007-04:00

My happy place, The Trexler Game Preserve

Well, hello-dere!

Today was an amazing, perfectly warm and sunny saturday, which we don't get a ton of in these parts. (Sorry, Vermont! I know you just got two more feet of snow for your Blessed Beltane.) I treated the day like a painting...I endeavored to create a masterpiece. I put on the new dress that my husband gave me, turquoise, my favorite. I packed an over-the-top picnic (shrimp cocktail was on sale!). We all rambled down the country road to meet some friends at the Trexler Game Preserve for ice cold creek water and cocktail sauce. If you recall, my new year's resolution was TO RELAX, and it's May already, and I haven't forgotten. I'm ON IT, yet, in a relaxed manner.

I have to work at relaxing. I know, an oxymoron, but to me relaxing is a carrot I have to run towards. I don't have to flip out over minutae, like when my husband says that he will register the truck, but I don't have proof of insurance, so he calls me at work, and I call the insurance company, and I have a paper faxed to the registration people, and then I get home...and my husband says he waited at the registration place for an hour but never got any fax....

Or when you haven't tattooed for a year, because you are a little bit nervous about it, and you finally get yourself ready to go, and you collect all of your tattoo stuff, and you clean out a spot to work in, and you find a victim, and the kids are in bed sleeping, and you've got the design, and you have cleaned and put down plastic and ointment, and you are just about to set the needle to the skin...and you are missing a vital piece that has to be special ordered and you have to pack up and call it a night...

Or when you are trained for a position at work that would be easier and would also mean a pay raise, and you have done it for a few weeks on a temporary basis and enjoyed it, and the announcement is sent out that they are hiring for the position permanently, and the boss says you would be perfect for it...and you can't apply because you are on a written warning for your poor attendence due to pneumonia...
Let it
F U C K I N G
go.

See? Zen. Om. Hare Krishna. Choose the pantheon of your choice.

Nope, today was winding country roads with a cooler bungee-strapped into the bed of my truck, my husband riding shotgun, two kids in the back, and the bunny in the middle in the cat carrier. My friend was waiting with her two munchkins, and I was so excited I didn't know which direction to go first...unpack the picnic, get into the water with the kids, take out the bunny and introduce him, take pictures, or just sit and "relax"...it was pleasure overload. Don't worry, every one of those pleasureable things were eventually acheived. It was a tall-stacked submarine sandwich of loveliness.

I really enjoyed the new little kids to play with. The two year old had a smile that shone like a new penny. The six year old was a city kid thrown into the mud, catching frogs in buckets for the very first time. I like kids better than grownups.

I've got a sunburn. I've got peace in my heart. I've got a happy, healthy family. I'm grateful.

I am listening to: Sam Bush on NPR's Mountain Stage Radio Show
I am reading: about The Outdoor Challenge on Five Orange Potatoes
I am working: on a truly ferocious pile of laundry
I am learning: to respect my husband's laidback nature
I am loving: that the sucktacular winter is finally dead and buried.
I give you: instructions on how to make an acorn whistle

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

The One Where I Say Poof too much

2010-04-27T20:54:00.001-04:00

     Hi! I'm alive! I've even had the computer back on for quite a while, I just have been consumed by other projects lately. All good. I really knew all along that if I could live until the spring, that everything would be golden puppies, chocolate chips and multiple orgasms. It has. Really.

First of all, I got this huge gigantic tax return. I don't understand how this government works, but they decided to send me enough money to buy a small country. I took the money, and started paying off debts, and buying dainty extras like canola oil and cream cheese, and shoes for the children, and then *poof* all of that glorious money was all gone before I even got a chance to roll around naked in a big pile of one dollar bills. Shame.

My husband bought me a dress. That was exciting.

I really believe in The Secret, lately, because I got this job taking complaint phone calls for a huge multinational corporation, and then I mourned and keened and wailed because I couldn't be creative or treehugging. Then, *poof* (there is that *poof* again) they gave me every opportunity they had to be creative and treehugging by putting me on a committee of Sustainability and Corporate Responsibility. So, this committee and I got to do all of this great stuff- a big earth day party, a big salad buffet (bring your own bowl), flower boxes full of flowers inside the cubicle-y office, freecycling bulletin boards, walking clubs, and ridesharing programs. I got to make a huge earth day bulletin board that said Happy Earth Day out of garbage. It was a miracle. It was just like,You asked for it. You thought it was ridiculous to even ask for it because you didn't know how it could happen. You don't have to know how it is going to happen. It just does.*poof* Creativity and treehugging. There you go. Quit yer bellyaching.

In my mind, the voice of The Divine sounds a lot like Willy Nelson.

The girls are themselves so FULLY right now. I literally spent two days cleaning out their room, moving the furniture around and making it functional. Did you read that right? Two days. That is how long it took to go through all the books and be like,"Did you read this? Is it babyish or do you want it?" That is how long it took to match all of the little doll shoes to the correct doll. To test the markers and keep the ones that weren't dried out. To put all of the doll dishes on the doll table, clean the bunny cage, wash the windows and throw out many, many curiosities beyond description.

Tonight, after dinner, we took a walk together and the Elder taught us how to make a whistle out of the top of an acorn. Sweet Sunday! How did I live to be so old without learning this before!? We annoyed all of the neighbors heartily with acorn whistling and intellectual discussions about Jaime Oliver and The Food Revolution.

Here are some recent quotes-

What did Paul Revere say to the Orthodontist?
what?
The Braces are coming! The Braces are coming!
Haha! Good one. Wait, do you know who Paul Revere was?
Yes!
What did he really say?
The Redsox are coming! The Redsox are coming!
                                                                             -The Little One

I don't like being called a pedestrian. A pedestrian sounds to me like a big, ugly cockroach from Jamaica.
                                                                               -The Older One

Love and light
your friend,
Mountain

Live From Panera!!!!!

2010-04-11T10:39:00.001-04:00

I'm sitting in Panera with all the pastry eating people in Allentown. I have to steal my internet connection right now because many things are shut off at home. I am a poor provider, and I have many people in my family who would help me, but my tax return is expected in a few days so I figured I'd spare myself the humiliation and just hold on tight for the big check.

Many good things happened yesterday. My husband quit the paper route and I am doing booty shaking dances in the driveway because I am SOOOOOOOO HAPPY!!!!! I want my man in bed at night with me, and the money that he earned did not begin to cover the tumult that the job caused. Honestly, trying to do the papers almost killed the guy. He is sick. He is miserable. He is tired all the time. Chrismas and Easter were Husband-less. It just sucked so bad. I would rather have the whole family living in the car than have him be like that. I'm glad he came to this decision. They were going to stop paying extra for sundays, and cut his route by 35 papers,because of some sort of corporate reorganization. The decision was easy to make.

His family is not happy. They see this as him throwing a perfectly good job away, and to this I say,"BWAHAHAHAH!" They have no idea. You know that cottonpicking gig you had in Alabama? The one with the overseer who whipped you from the back of a horse? Why did you throw that perfectly good job away?! Ha!

I went to sleep with my husband in bed with me, and I woke up and he was still there. That has only ever happened while we were on our honeymoon. I could explode in the decadence of it. I watched his chest rise and fall in rhythmic breath, and I felt like maybe this all might work out. I don't have any idea how, but now I have hope. Hope had been missing all winter.

Yesterday I rose early with the girls and went to the school to do volunteer at the work day. I love their school so much. They have a new sign made out of a gigantic gear mold that was abandoned in the building that now houses the school. It looks great. The teacher had a Gnarls Barkley CD in her cd player, and I cranked that. Perfect cleaning music! I swept the classrooms, and I wiped the board. I scrubbed marker off of the tables, and I straightened all the chairs. The little one's teacher has a mirror with affirmations taped to it..."I am kind." "I am a good friend." You could cry from the sweetness of it. My older daughter has newspapers taped up all over the walls at quite odd angles. When I asked her about it, she said testing is coming up next week and the teacher covered up all the charts on the walls with newspaper to hide the answers.

The kids came with me, and wander freely to whatever project they can find in progress. Sometimes they sweep. Sometimes they wander up and down the halls with friends. Sometimes they help other adults. My elder daughter found a pile of rocks and plywood behind the school, and she and some boys had built a clubhouse and were looking for coal in the rocks to collect to heat their imaginary home. I can't imagine another school where the kids are encouraged to play with rocks and plywood, but I think it is just as healthy as a plastic playset from walmart.

I feel so good about contributing what small amount I can to that school. When I think that things are really horrible, I remember that I helped, in a small way, it create it, and what a positive influence it is in the lives of my children.

Work has gotten much better, too. I knew in my heart of hearts if I could just hold out til spring, things would get better. I have been given the opportunity to occasionally sit at the front desk as a receptionist, which is pleasantly dull. I am working on projects for the "fun committee" and also have been working on some sustainability and corporate social responsibility stuff. The monotony and negativity has shifted a bit, and every time there is a chance for creativity they seem to be giving me a shot at it. Not that there is A LOT of opportunity for creativity, but what there is, they are throwing to me. So, yay. Grateful for that. I got a six cent raise. You know they love you when they give you six cents. My father told me that was $120 a year, enough to buy a truck battery. So, there is that.

I also have been using my various health insurances, including dental. I have to have TWO wisdom teeth out. I think maybe when they are out, all of my sinus/ear/throat troubles may be improved. After insurance, it will cost me about $120, so maybe I can use my six cent raise for THAT. Oh, see how it all works out, Polly Anna?

It smells like burned bagels in here.

On Owning Hips

2010-04-08T20:58:00.000-04:00

This is a china cabinet at my parents' house. I thought that maybe no one had ever taken a picture of the china cabinet, and that it was dashingly elegant, so I snapped it. My life seems devoid of elegance. I see a puerto rican guy covered in tattoos, some obviously from prison, and I know that I can have a conversation with him about tattoos, about motorcycles, about what is wrong with my car, about my trip to Puerto Rico, and about what he did with his kids over Easter. I will feel at ease until I realize that he is trying to hit on me and I have to remind him that I am married. He would never in a million years imagine that I grew up in a house with built in china cabinets. I miss the time before sexuality. I miss the time when anyone on the playground was a potential friend.

I grew up next to twin boys just a year older than me. As soon as I could cross the street and walk through an empty lot, I found another little boy to join our gang, and we four were a dynamic force until middle school happened and I grew boobs. I was mostly raised by my father. He took me seriously and tossed a ball with me often, despite his many flaws. I grew up to like men. I like how they talk while doing other things...watching football, or staring into the engine block. I like how their minds move from only one topic to only one other topic, even though my mind doesn't work that way at all. I like being judged for my usefulness, even if my usefulness includes my usefully large tits, rather than the endless stream of subjective political measurements used by women.

It was devastating to me when I matured, because even at 11 I knew that it would never be the same. Even if we were just friends, we would always be taunted,"there goes Mountain and her BOY-friend!" I would never just be his friend. He would always wonder if I liked him. I would always wonder if he liked me.

Still, I forget myself. I forget my hips and I forget my laugh. I say "Hi, whatcha doin?" just the same way I would have at age 8. "Are you making a lego space station? That looks cool! I've got some red ones you could use at my house because it looks like you don't have enough."

Eventually they want to know my age, and I know when they want to know my age they are wondering if they could sleep with me. This always surprises me because I don't look anything like an attractive woman is supposed to look. I blush, because I have to think of something deflecting but not deflating to say. I feel embarrassed.

Now I am grown. I've owned a womanly body for decades. I am well versed in the societal restrictions not only on sex, but also race and social class. I can't play with the boys like I used to. It's a shame.

Easter and Thatcher Park Photo Essay

2010-04-07T07:54:00.000-04:00

Sunday Sermon

2010-04-05T23:27:00.000-04:00

I found the joy that I have been looking for, keening for really, on the back of my father's harley on Easter Sunday. I have ridden those roads a thousand times. They are all grey now, in this season. Grey grass, grey bare tree limbs, grey houses, grey birds, grey squirrels, yet this time of year has a special gift to be discovered. Looking through the tree branches, without leaves, allows one to dive completely into the sky. The view is expansive only in this time of year. I held onto my father's thin ribcage as he accellerated to 70 miles an hour. I could speak into his ear, and he could turn his head against the wind and give me short replies.

I told him how angry I am about everything. I see injustice and brokeness piling up higher and higher around me. In everything I see unfairness and suffering in others. I am not blind to the suffering of others. Instead, I am deluged by it. Injustice has become a crashing, directorless symphony, banging on cymballs and sawing on cellos. In observing the ant I see the suffering of carrying a weight ten times greater than the small ants whole body. I see unfair in the road, in my shoes, in the passing cars...injustice, robbery, pain, rape. Why is the universe like this? Why have I lost my ability to ignore it enough to breathe and laugh and discover joy?

We climb higher up the mountain, and we have to slow down because the road reveals gravelly curves. More dangerous. The houses, like anything else on the planet, fall away and are being reabsorbed by nature. We pass herds of goats in front yards. We pass cows. I hurt for the cows. Who ever gave a passing thought to cows while speeding by on a motorcycle? Who on earth hurts for the cows on a sunny Easter sunday?

Maybe my ache is a bad habit I cannot break. I was taught at one point that one must focus on the positive, not the negative. Maybe I have felt negative so much that even on a lovely day I am attracting negative static like a magnetic human radio tower. Maybe I just need to quit, like biting nails or smoking cigarettes.

Under leaveless branches, we climb until a spectacular vista unfolds before us. I can see into the next state. I can see more than one mountain range. I can see tiny houses with tiny solar panels. I can see that I am trying to control something that is not mine to control. I am trying to steer a ship that is too large for me even to conceptualize, yet alone steer. I am trying to fix what is not mine to correct.

It is not my job to right all of the wrong, to feel all of the pain, to stop all of the injustice. It is my job to extend compassion to my own capacity. Stop. Take that in another time. It is my job to extend compassion to my own capacity. That is all.

I relax into the next curve. The sky is strong and securely above me. The spring is coming without any help at all from me. The sun and wind are exhilerating and nature is in full celebration of the new season's arrival. My father is driving, and I trust in him to keep me safe. That is enough. Yes, all the suffering is still there, but so too is the hooray of the tiny flowers my father calls,"Spring Beauties." On the back of a motorcycle, on Easter, I rediscover faith.

Let's Talk About MY PERIOD! Yay For YOU!

2010-03-30T20:01:00.008-04:00

My period has been late exactly three times in the past 19 years. Elder Daughter, Younger Daughter, and now. I thought I was due on the 19th, but I forgot that Feb was a short month. Then I thought I was due on the 22. Didn't come. So then I bought a first response pregnancy test. NEGATIVE. Ok, cool. I can wait.

23rd passes.

24th passes.

25th passes. Now I am starting to sweat.

26th I must be pregnant, right? I take another pregnancy test. NEGATIVE. I shake it and look at the thing. Where did my period go? It's not something that you can just loose, like keys, is it?

27th passes.

28th passes. I wonder if I have a disease. I call my mother and tell her I'm dying from no period and that I'm sorry I wasn't a better daughter.

29th passes. My brow is furrowed all day long.

30th, the full moon arrives, and with it, long awaited AUNT FLO. I feel the need to announce this loudly in the bathroom at work, just like a two year old going potty in public for the first time. It was a triumphant moment. My coworkers, both men, want to know what I'm beaming about all of a sudden. We have a celebratory Mountain Is Not Pregnant coffee toast..."Salud!" "L'Chaim!" Yes, seriously.

So, we are fine. I had pneumonia, people, and I suppose that is enough to royally knock me off of my internal clock. All these people said,"you don't seem that sick", and now I know I was really sick because MY PERIOD WAS LATE FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!!!!!! I must have been on the brink of death. My body literally didn't even know what day it was.

So, this is the great thing for which I am very grateful. Right now, I would love to be pregnant, and I would also be just as happy NOT to be pregnant. No harm, no foul. The agony was in the not knowing. Yes, I did actually refer to myself as The Barren Queen in conversation, that was like, only once.

love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Under Construction

2010-03-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

Wow! Super audience participation! Thank you for all of the lovely comments, people! I haven't responded because I have been in hog heaven, knee deep in the beta-template designer on Blogger. Holy, Granola Bars, Batman! This thing is very intuitive and easy. Run away from Diaryland! Run away!

I've been playing with several template ideas since the kids went to sleep. Just because it looks like this tonight doesn't mean it is a finished product. It is kind of like looking at my lego creation...and I'm still building! This tool is so easy to play with, I may have a new design for every day of the week!

I am so spoiled. I came home from a work in a very negative mood, like I usually do, and both of my girls made me pictures that say "I love you" and "you are the best mom" and my man even brought me Ben and Jerry's, served to me in the bubble bath. (((sigh))) (((perfect))))

I have a little thing about losing my keys. I think there is a problem in my brain. Actually, I'm quite sure of it. Tonight my little one looked at a picture of Alicia Keys on the cover of a magazine and said,"Is that Alicia Keys? Her last name is Keys? Does that mean if you went shopping with her, you would lose her?"

HAHAHHA!

I didn't share my icecream with her.

I hope you evening was lovely, too!

Love and Light,
Your Friend,
Mountain

Gaahhh!

2010-03-29T07:45:00.000-04:00

The graphics for my layout disappeared. My comment link went for a walk. I don't know what's up, but I do enjoy tinkering, so tonight after work I'll see if I can fix it. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Freegans Without The Dumpster

2010-03-28T17:18:00.006-04:00

Freegans are people who employ alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources. Freegans embrace community, generosity, social concern, freedom, cooperation, and sharing in opposition to a society based on materialism, moral apathy, competition, conformity, and greed.-Freegan.info

I thought freegan meant getting your food out of a dumpster, which I have not yet attempted. I do get a lot of stuff without setting foot into a store though. Today, I made this print with the kids at the free day at the art museum. As we often do, I brought the neighbors' kids, minimizing our carbon footprint by filling all of the seats in the car, and also making it "way more fun-er" with friends.

They had a print making workshop, and I may not be 8 years old, but I participated gleefully, thank you. Here is my print.

Here is the top part of the huge, amazing fountain that I rescued from the trash the other day.

Yesterday, while helping out on the paper route, I screamed,"Stop the car! Fucking insane Americans are throwing away canvases still in the wrappers!" Look at this haul, people! It wasn't even my birthday! That's an easel in the wrapper, too!

Here are the kids, inspired by their museum trip, painting. The little boy is our neighbor, and my buddy. He has the most genuinely positive attitude of anyone I know. He is the subject of my print. Doesn't it kinda sorta look like him?

Elder Daughter's Hanna Anderson dress? Free, too! It was lovingly handed down by another little girl who had outgrown it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, whether you are buying or re-using, I highly recommend Hanna Anderson. Those little dresses seem like they are made of galvanized steel...completely indestructible, soft comfortable and well-suited for real life.

I drove to Walmart yesterday for the first time in about six months...cat litter and laundry soap was calling me. Do you have a recipe for homemade laundry soap? The re-use children's clothing store is gone. The used bookstore is gone. The candle store is gone. The kitchen supply store is gone. Empty storefronts and for rent signs dot the main drag. About half of our friends are out of work. When I get down about not being able to provide the lifestyle I grew up with to my children, my mother tells me,"hunker down and wait it out. Be thankful you have a job and don't stick your neck out too far."

We live on a tiny income, but we also live in a time when so many are relearning the simple ways. The time has truly come.

Free Sunday Things I Love:

Mountain Stage Radio Show
Public Parks, just now showcasing daffodils and magnolia buds
Making Love
Free Day at The Art Museum
New York Times Magazines (free if your married to the paperboy!)
Make Cookies. Borrow Baking Powder from a neighbor.
Sit Out Front in a Wicker Chair With a Cup of Tea. Smile at dog walkers going by
Yoga
Read Twilight, and feel totally cliche doing it, but forced to soothe your (my) curiosity, and then really enjoy it, and then feel mundane for enjoying it
Watch Your Beautiful Yet Nocturnal Husband Sleep, and take his picture

Zen, Leukemia, The Alphabet and It's Debatable Level Of Ease To Learn

2010-03-27T19:56:00.001-04:00

This is for Diane over at TomatoSoupCake, who lost her beloved computer and could not blog, but now has a new one!

Diane is a Christian with a capital C, and one heck of a lover of all kinds of people. I am a meandering Wiccan who lately hangs out with Buddhists, a tattoo artist, and I say "fuck" a lot, yet Diane's compassion even extends to me. We do share many of the same interests, though. I really care about raising compassionate children. I love to do things the old fashioned way. I want to learn about homemaking, because I've got a home and I've got no one else to make it, and I have learned a lot from Diane's tips and tricks. We also are both SERIOUSLY anti-consumerist (pro-simplicity?) and we both have more than one daughter who is !awe-some! But now is the time where I am going to give a very high compliment. Diane incorporates her faith in all that she does, and she makes me FEEL loved and in the spirit, without ever, ever judging me.

Now, I came to think about this because I was surfing around in blogland, and I came upon bunches of Christian ladies who are wow-with-the-nasty. This one lady (who's name I won't mention, I really don't know her at all, I just stumbled in!) was talking about this book about organizing. The book used the term ZEN, said the lady, but don't worry, because it wasn't really Buddhist. Its just that zen is the new way to say,"I'm from LA," but she was sure that no one in LA could relate to her because who in LA even BREASTFEEDS????

Dear readers, far be it from me to defend Los Angeles, but I personally breastfed while residing in that city. I'm just saying. Haters, if you are reading along in a perfectly nice book and you stumble across the word Zen, it won't bite you and infect you with Zen-leporsy. Zen is a pacifist.

Oy vey!

All that being said, Welcome Back, Diane! I know you are not a hater, and have never even had Zen-leporsy.

Yes, I'm in a rare mood.

It's just that child rearing has really backed me into a corner lately. I was just interrupted mid-rant by my little one saying,"Mama, did I have leukemia when I was a baby?"

"NO! Who told you that!?"

I didn't really need to ask. There are only three people at home, and that makes Older Daughter the culprit.

"Did you tell her she had leukemia?"

"gigglegiggle...yes."

"Can you please not tell your sister that she had leukemia because she never did?"

"gigglegigglegiggle...ok."

Now they are singing the alphabet. In spanish.
The alphabet is easy to learn! Yeah! Get down!

Lurkers! De-Lurk!

2010-03-25T21:44:00.001-04:00

Come out! Come out, Lurkers! Is anyone out there? I am feeling very lonely, so if you happen to read this and don't usually comment, leave an X in the comment box, for pete's sake! PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! SHOW YOURSELF! I'm about halfway ready to throw in the towel in this blogging stuff. Let me know if that is a good idea.

(I'm totally bluffing. I'm not going anywhere. I'm addicted.)

SWEET FIND
I discovered a colossal garden fountain. Someone was throwing it away and I rescued it from the side of the road while walking home from girl scouts. It looks like stone, but its really some kind of plastic, and it has a lion's head that water spurts out of. Pretty cool. It is right now residing in the back of my truck. It's huge. You could baptize a baby in it. I NEEDED one of those.

SWEET MUSIC
My daughter's school choir sang that Fireflies song that's on the radio at their concert last night. It was nice. They had bells. Today's children don't even KNOW the retarded songs we had to sing in elementary school choir. They were painfully dumb. If someone told us we could sing a song that was on the radio, we would have passed out.

SWEET RELIEF
My husband and I had planned to move this spring, but recently decided not to. I was intimidated by the concept of moving us all right now. I'm glad to postpone for the time being. Maybe I'll feel like it at the end of summer.

SWEET CHILD
I asked my daughter if she would please shoot me when I became so old that I forgot what I was doing in the middle of providing my phone number, and she said,"I will NOT shoot you! I will love you and I will write your phone number on your hand!" Awww! She will not shoot me!

SWEET GRUB
I had dinner at Cali Burrito. It's my ~*`*'~*Favorite*~*`*'~. I had two tacos that have crunchy shells wrapped in soft shells, with black beans inside, pico de gallo, cheese, tomatoes and lettuce, with homemade salsa on the side. In the past week, I have had TWO meals with meat. I'm going in a good direction, folks.

SWEET INVITE
I'm going to a women's circle next week at the place where we went to the Equinox Fire Circle. I'm embarrassed with over-eagerness.

Today was a day that seemed like a total loss. The thing is, I was really, truly convinced that I would have it together as an adult, and it turns out I am one thousand times more awkward and self-conscious now than I was at 13. How IS that? My mother always gave the impression of being in total and complete control, perfect credit and shiny kitchen floors. Where are my shiny kitchen floors? Did I drop my poise and sophistication at the laundromat?

Even though I feel like I am in a constant state of disarray, I've got sweetness all over the place if I take the time to notice it. Maybe MORE than my mother did. I'm a beautiful mess.

What was sweet in your day?

***PS-I'm having trouble with blogger and/or this template. I'm sorry for the fonts being messed up, and the links not being in order, etc. I'm working on it.

Love and light,
your friend,
Mountain

Blessed Be! Happy Spring!

2010-03-22T18:05:00.000-04:00

Hi! I'm going to tell you about a pagan circle I went to saturday night. It started at 7:00. When I got there I saw a BEAUTIFUL house. The sun was setting when we got there. Iwalked down a VERY steep hill. When I finally got down that HUGE hill, I saw a few of my teachers at the bottom all constantly talking. I saw Mr. Aptaker,Mrs.Hoke, Mrs.Moyer and Senorita R. They all had drums. Then people started drumming. This went on for quite a while . Then she started a fire. Mrs. Moyer's mother told us to bless the stick then put it in the fire. So I did. Then we drummed for an hour more. Next we ate at the potluck . We ate cheetos, girl scout cookies and hummas and chips, then we left. That was my pagan adventure.
by: Elder Daughter, The Awesome

We discovered that my little daughter's teacher is a Tibetan Buddhist, and she invited us to a seasonal fire ceremony HERE. The website shows the house, but it doesn't show the lovely rolling, wild hills going in all directions around the house. We drove up a road, off a road, off a road, and with every curve my heart beat faster. "YES," it sang. "This would be what you have been looking for." I had friends all around me. I invited some neighbors along with kids close to my children's age, and when we arrived we found many people we knew already from school.

The ceremony was taught to the leaders by Incas in Peru, but it was surprisingly similar to what I have followed for the past 15 years in studying Wicca. There was a fire. There were drums. The corners were called and released. We thanked God. We reminded ourselves how lucky and grateful we are to be here. We asked for healing.
He has never been to a ceremony with me before. Can you even BELIEVE that? I tell you, I've been letting ceremonialism lapse altogether, but to think that we have been together for four years and never attended a circle together is eye-opening. A beautiful thing about our relationship is that we allow each other a lot of space. It was the only way we could work with our very different, very full lives.
During the ceremony, every one was invited to put a stick in the fire. My husband did not put his stick in the fire, and I started to worry,"Does he think this is dumb? Is he bored? Does he want to go home?" When we were in the car on the ride home, I said," Thank you for coming with me. You don't have to come again if you don't want, but it meant a lot to me that you did. How come you didn't participate in the ceremony? Did you feel weird about the whole thing?"
He said,"Let me think because I want to say this right." I started to panic. He went on to say,"I saw that this was a very spiritual moment for everyone there. There was no one who was, like, halfway doing it. I don't really understand the tradition, so I wanted to watch. I didn't want to cheapen the thing by participating half-heartedly or without understanding what I was doing. I think of it like visiting another church, but not taking communion."
Oh! my heart swelled for him so much when he said that. Oh! I fell in love with him all over again.
I took away a lot from the ceremony. The drumming allowed me to get into a trance state and really open up for the first time in a long time. I (re)learned that I am a part of everything, and everything is God, so hating myself is really hating everything which is hating God. The drumming came to mean,"I! Love! My! Self! I! Am! A! Part! Of! Earth!" I relearned that being a spiritual woman is a huge part of who I am and when I don't fulfill this obligation I am unhappy. I've already tattooed this concept on my neck, yet I STILL have to be reminded.
I filled up with love for my children and my husband and my community and nature, and really, really, is there anything else? I learned that I don't have to try and control everything. Life comes to me, and I can relax at always trying to drive it alone. I kind got a good shake from Grandmother Cosmos, who told me to WAKE UP! You are too grown to be pretending you don't know who you ARE!
So, feeling that Wiccan tradition may be exhausted for me, I've found myself an invitation into Tibetan Buddhism and Incan Shamanism. I never thought myself a Buddhist because I thought I am too exuberant! Who can smile beatifically in meditation all day? Not me! I like the whooping and hollering of Paganism, but I think this chance is too good to pass up. I'm gonna check out the women's circle, and see if I can go.
I am so happy and proud and grateful that I finally get to raise my children however I want to. The custody battle hobbled me in so many more ways than you might imagine. Everything I did was to please a social worker, rather than to please my moral values. I dressed to please the social worker;I got a job to please a social worker; I decorated my home to please a social worker; I suppressed my spiritual curiousity to please a social worker; I sent my kids to public school to please a social worker; I chose a pediatrician to please a social worker...it really is sick and sad, and I am so happy that is OVER!
I knew that I would be happy again once spring came.

My I Am Poem

2010-03-18T20:35:00.000-04:00

Here is a fun thing. You fill in all of these blanks, and it makes a poem. You can make one too, and put it in comments, or leave a link to your blog! :)

Mine turned out sort of depressing, but where else can someone be truly morose than in self-reflexive poetry?

Pneumonia
I am so tired that I want to cry.
I wonder when I will feel strong and light again.
I hear the life-breath in my watery lungs.
I see pneumonia leaving me.
I want pneumonia gone.
I am so tired that I want to cry.

I pretend that I feel strong and light again.
I feel like a stone bouncing down a pebbly incline.
I touch the ground, spinning and bumping.
I worry that I will stay a stone.
I cry because I'm rolling, rolling, rolling down.
I am so tired.

I understand that healing is coming.
I say nothing. I have to save my breath.
I dream of swimming, light and strong, laughing and splashing
I try to float, but always I am rolling down.
I hope pneumonia will soon leave me.
I am so tired that I want to cry.

DeNiro and The Chocolate Drops

2010-03-16T21:12:00.000-04:00

This is the original.

And this is the remake that I heard on the radio today THAT TOTALLY BLEW MY MIND.

I heard this on the local non-profit radio station. Philly's X PN is available for streaming, if you aren't around here, and it absolutely the best radio station ever created. My husband and I are in agreement that Rhiannon Giddens is not even real. How does she sing AND fiddle like that? And it doesn't even stop there. She sings Gaelic madrigals, too.

And now, folks, the miracle of the day: My husband DANCED. Thank you, Carolina Chocolate Drops. I salute you. Here is the song that can sway even devoted non-dancers-
As a rule, my husband does not dance. When we were married, I had to lead, and that was the last time he swayed to the music. He is a white, northeastern Metalhead, and dancing is just not part of this culture. Sure, sure, his grandfather was Puerto Rican, but my husband, sadly, did not get one single dancing gene. He did, however, get the big butt appreciating gene, and for that I am eternally grateful. This song moved whitey to grab a honey and spin her around.

Just the other day I was making fun of my husband's redneck style, and he pointed a skinny finger at me and said,"You better give up on trying to deny your redneck heritage if you like this music!" "Yes, my grandmother's family is from West Virginia, but WHAT IS YOUR EXCUSE!?" He doesn't really look like a redneck. Lately he's been wearing this army coat, and he looks more like Deniro. From Taxi Driver. (((Shaking my head sadly)))

You talkin' to me?

What? KrAzY is a style! Can you see it? Imagine the green army coat. If you move the mohawk to a goatee, you've got my man. Maybe it's the chronic insomnia that creates that look. I've heard that DeNiro, a method actor, didn't sleep during the filming of Taxi Driver, and well, you know that my husband is either a ninja or a vampire, and has no need for sleep. Unconditional love, baby. This would be a great time for me to do a photoshop cut and paste of hubby's head on DeNiro's body, but that will go on the pile of creative ideas that I had that I don't have time to excute. It's a big pile.

Back In The Saddle

2010-03-14T21:24:00.000-04:00

Well, thanks to the marriage of western medicine and homeopathic witch doctory, I am in the land of the living. My symptoms are 96% gone, but after laying in bed for about two months, I am just a little bit slow moving. That's ok, I'm living life even at the turtle's pace, and feeling pretty proud about it.

Boy, if you don't participate in life, life does not participate in you. I brought nine loads of laundry to the laundromat today. I scrubbed entire microbial ecosystems out of my toilet bowl. I got aggressive with the landlord about the heat that failed for the third time this month, the rain that is dripping through the bathroom ceiling, and the malfunctioning smoke detector. I made an actual meal in my slow cooker and helped out with the paper route. Then the real fun began: PARENTAL DISCIPLINE CRACKDOWN 2010.

My girls have gone bad. There is no way to sugar-coat it. Not criminal mischief, but an exponentially growing number of annoying behaviors that have compounded into two very annoying children. Hitting. Lying. Finger pointing. Mess making. Whining. Bickering and Deliberately Ignoring Instructions. This week, with my renewed vigor, I broke those ponies.

To me, good children (like a good golf swing) are all about follow through. You cannot point out the inappropriateness of a behavior some of the time. You cannot threaten consequences that never actually happen. You cannot forget a promised reward. You have to be on top of things, and frankly, over the past two months, I have earned an F in follow-through. Parenting had been reduced to yelling from my bed,"WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING, QUIT IT!" So, so not cool.

My kids forgot that I was the mother and somehow confused me with "Cruise ship Entertainment Director". My job was to drive to birthday parties, buy treats, host playdates, and fix broken toys. This week I became Mom again, and it was a bit painful. You have to feel sorry for them. My daughter was dropped off from a bowling birthday party not fifteen minutes before she was demanding that I bring her to a sleepover. SAY WHAT, LITTLE GIRL? Nope! Now it is time to clean the litterbox and spray and wipe the kitchen counters! Sleepovers are a once in a while treat, not on-demand! They are probably wishing I'd get pneumonia again.

Once I started to address some issues, a whole truckload of other issues burst forth. Clean your room actually means clean your room lead into don't hit your sister, which rolled into you can't actually stand in front of the tv at the emotional conclusion of a movie I'm watching and talk about nothing to your little girlfriend, which soon was compiled with let's stay together in the department store and not get lost.

I felt like I was in the terrible twos again, only this time I'm the one saying,"No. No. No. No. NO!" I hope I don't sound too strident. We did have some hugs, and some good talks, and some positive rewards. I let them brainstorm solutions, and them pick what they feel will work best. We are going to survive, but they do need to watch out...I am back in the saddle again.

Being Stupid Is Nice

2010-03-09T22:23:00.000-05:00

My sleep life is wonderful. Last night I dreamed that my husband was the promoter for a huge heavy metal rave in a warehouse. There was black room after black room filled with bands and party people in weird costumes. There were zaftig naked women painted to look like cats. There was a band that was playing on mattresses and singing heavy metal songs very quietly in whispery voices as if they were lullabies.

Brittany Spears was there, and a few friends from high school, and a few current friends. I was trying to get to the back of the building because I knew my husband was working there, but I kept running into people and interesting things and getting sidetracked. I was wearing lime green high heels, and a blue scarf with skulls on it on my head. It was entirely real, and when I woke up I felt like I had been out all night, and not asleep in bed at all. I came home from work halfway through the day. Why WHY can't I live in my imagination? Having a body is such a bore. I certainly hope that this is my last incarnation into a meat suit.

I'm getting into dangerous territory with missed work. Because I have not been at my current job a year yet, I do not qualify for FMLA, which would allow me the flexibility I need. I really need flexibility all the time, being a parent, and just being me. Shockingly, me and corporate america aren't a great fit.

I was remembering that not long ago my husband and I were fighting every day. Now I can't even remember what all that was about. I have been thinking a lot about the beauty of his jaw. Today he left a love note in my truck for me to find on my way home from work. This disease is forcing me to let go of everything. I don't have the energy. I don't have the energy to find matching socks in the morning, let alone formulate an argument. Maybe that is what it feels like to be really old,"I'm really pissed off at you right now....um....but it's gone now....what were we talking about?"

I feel the same about work. "I hate this job...oh, look, donuts...lalala." It is good not to think so much. I have to save my creativity for dreaming.

People Like Lists

2010-03-09T21:44:00.000-05:00

My kids kick ass.

It was the little one's birthday. My husband planned the entire day for her because I had to work, plus pneumonia. He has been planning to run wrestling birthday parties, so this was good practice for him. He borrowed some wrestlers and some neighbor children and put on a show for the kids, and then let the kids play in the ring. He put a suitcase way high above the ring with presents inside, and then claimed the heel had stolen all the birthday presents. Inside the suitcase were dozens of comic books for all the kids to share. SO COOL, and I missed it, of course. Still, the kids had a great time, and my husband was a hero.

It is now 9:46 and I feel like it is four in the morning. Everything is so exhausting. Breathing is exhausting, but I am doing pretty well. I have had a string of nice days and things seem to be looking up. I'm not in terrible pain or anything.

Things Little One Got For Her Birthday:

-A secret agent spy v-tech video game that looks like a laptop

-a webkinz mama and baby lamb.

-earrings in a fancy box from Paris, France

-a bathingsuit and beach stuff

-a diary with a lock

-a really cool doodle book

-48 pieces of sidewalk chalk

-a tinkerbell desk set

-pocky (japanese candy)

-tickets to Alice in Wonderland in 3D (yes, it was awesome)

Things The Homeopath is Treating Me For

1)pneumonia

2)healing from the damaging drugs I chose to take like zoloft and codeine

3)uplift for depression

4)balancing and drainage for my ears and for moving out of my rut

Things I Saw in My Most Amazing Dream Last Night

-a blue tiled metro station

-a waterslide that went over a highway

-an artisan's mall where each kiosk had really cool glass and tile mosaics over the top

-chainsaw sculptures

-a fancy restaurant

Children's Books I Have Recently Read While Trying To Get Better (I have the children trained so that I can just bellow and they bring me another one)

-The 18th Emergency by Betsy Byars

-Skylark by Patricia MacLachlan

-Jet Getaway and Other Amazing Escapes by Thomas G. Gunning

-A Haunting In Williamsburg by Lou Kassem

-It Couldn't Happen To Me, Three True Stories Of Teenaged Moms by Beth Johnson

Ok, guys. I'll try to have something more intelligent to talk about soon. Really.

I'm really ok. Really.

2010-03-05T19:16:00.000-05:00

Ok, lets get straight the the punchline. Pneumonia? Have you heard of that before?

Pneumonia is an abnormal inflammatory condition of the lung.^[1] It is often characterized as including inflammation of the parenchyma of the lung (that is, the alveoli) and abnormal alveolar filling with fluid (consolidation and exudation).^{[2]-wikipedia}

^{I HAVE THAT!}

^{Don't worry, I'm not dying. I'm not even horribly ill and green and gasping for breath in a white linen victorian nightgown, with my dark hair tumbling about me and blood on my lace handkerchief.}

^{I just felt reeeeeeeeeeeeeaally sick and reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaally tired. I had this cough, and when I coughed, it felt like an ax was hitting my head. But I'm not coughing like, all the time. I'm coughing only sometimes, and I was going for walks in the park and stuff yesterday. I was in the grocery store, and I was talking to insurance companies and making doctors appointments, etc. I talked to the homeopath and I drank some super vitamin c drink, and I thought, "Hey, look at me! I'm on the road to recovery!" I was even planning on going to work for a half day today.}

^{Then I went to the doctor and he said,"Pneumonia." I was astounded because I think of pneumonia as gasping for breath in a hospital bed. I have pneumonia with a small p, I guess.}

I have these new, shiny insurance cards, and I was on a roll with using them, so I also took myself to the dentist FOR THE FIRST TIME IN TEN YEARS. What? You don't go to the dentist with pneumonia? Buck up, kid. I like to bundle all of my suck into one fun filled day. That little sharp thing that they stabbed in my tender, sweet, virgin gums HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER until I told myself that it felt just like being tattooed, and that I can handle it and relax. I did have the instinct the shove the hygienist roughly, but I didn't. Really. I didn't.

My wisdom tooth, only one, thank god, is growing in sideways under the skin inside my jaw . Not crooked. Completely sideways. The roots go to the left and the crown goes to the right. Do you think this could be the cause of all of my sore throat/ear/sinus misery? Well, I guess we will find out because I have an appointment with SURGEON!!!! SURGEON!!!! Sorry, I'm afraid of that word. Let's not talk about it.

SURGEON!!!!

Stop!

The rest of the day I slept. This was different from all of the other days this month that I slept. This time I did not feel guilty because I have FRICKIN' PNEUMONIA people! I can sleep and read children's books and eat girl scout cookies all I want now.

March Miracle..Pennies From Heaven

2010-03-01T20:45:00.000-05:00

Actual conversation at my house
Me-"You are the best kid in THE WORLD!"
Her-"No, I can't be the best kid in the world because all the moms think their kid is the best kid in the world, and then no one really knows who the best kid in the world is."
Me-"Yes I do know! You! Duh!"

So, you know all those people who have blogs that are all like, "My life is so BEAUTIFUL! Look at my beautiful children! And my beautiful dog! And my beautiful toilet paper dispenser! I'm so funky/cool/crafty/kind/proactive!" Well, this is not one of them. At Mountain's house, we will tell you if shit stinks. Today was fucking excrutiating.

F U C K I N G! E X C R U T I A T I N G!

There are some days with depression that are physically painful. Today was one of them. I came home from work, kissed my family, and flopped down on my bed. I was looking, again, for the answers to all of my problems on the bedroom ceiling. The girls came tumbling in with a big birthday bag overflowing with gifts.

"Look what we got!"
"What the heck!? Where!?"
"You know the nice lady in the apartment across the street? She GAVE it to us!"
"Let me see that..."
Tumbling out came a tin of tea, a lavender filled eye mask, some lovely bubble bath, some stationary, a candle, and three gift cards! With money on them!

Little one in hand, I marched myself across the street, into the apartment vestibule, and rang the buzzer. My neighbor buzzed us in and we marched up the black and white tiled steps to her door.

"Did you give this to my kids!?"
"Yes."
"This is really good stuff! These are your birthday presents! There are gift cards! With money on them!"
"I know."
"Ok, so you have to take them."
"No, I gave them to your girls."
"No, you have to take them."
"No, I gave them to your girls."
"Oooh, Mommy! She has a kitty..."
"Be nice to the cat. You have to take these back!"

We went back and forth. It turns out that these were gifts that she was given a long time ago by people that she doesn't like. She kept them in the bag because she didn't want to look at them and now she wants to purge herself of them. I couldn't get her to take them back. I really did try.

So, my day started excrutiating, but it ended up like Christmas. Can you even BELIEVE that? We decided that we will buy her a gift with the gift certificates and surprise her back. You never really know, though, do you? You never know what a day will bring.

I found three things in the bag for three of my cubicle cellmates. I'm going to pay it forward tomorrow.

February's End

2010-02-28T20:22:00.000-05:00

The sky has an endless supply of snow. Sometimes it hurls the snow down angrily upon us, blinding us and spitting at us, telling us we are nothing and we aren't going anywhere! Sometimes it sprinkles us daintily like glitter on a christmas card, full of cheerful well wishes, and sometimes it pauses to take a breath, but it is only a breath. There is always more snow on its way. The sky is white and low. The sign for the pizza shop swings back and forth at night, squeaking as it swings. We can't see stars.

The ground is warm, though. The snow dumps down through the air, but melts when it finds the ground. I saw snowdrops blooming today, guarded by melting, old, dirty snowbanks. I had the opportunity this morning, before dawn, to stand in the middle of a 15 foot holly bush, busting with red berries, and listen to the sparrows flap and dart and whistle around me. I was helping out with the paper route. I was supposed to be in a rush, but I paused in awe of the tall collumn of life fluttering all around me. It was my best moment of the day.

I forgot to take my pill once, and it was a very miserable day. I don't know if the pill had anything to do with it, but now I am superstitious. I'm supposed to take the pill for six weeks before even hoping for an impact, but I felt the difference immediately. On the medication, I have more energy. I don't feel despair, but I am still lacking drive. Nothing interests me. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to go anywhere. I feel safest in my bed. The only things I want to do are things for the kids. Other than that, it can all rot.

I miss my creativity. I miss my spirituality. I miss my sex drive. I miss wanting to go out and be with people. My best friend gave me a good talking to today, and she told me to go easy on myself. To allow myself to be, and to love myself no matter what my emotional state. I get frustrated because I know I am "being depressed" and I know the things that pull me out of "being depressed", but yet I keep falling into the "being depressed" behaviors. She told me to do one good thing for myself, so I walked the mile or so to the girls' friends house where they had a playdate, and we all walked home together. Today, just a walk was an achievement, and that is difficult to admit. A fucking WALK? Yet, walking releases endorphins. Walking is on the list of "THINGS TO PULL YOURSELF OUT OF IT", so walking is good. Gold Star for Mountain.

Yesterday, I did all of the necessary-to-survive work. I went to the bank, grocery store, the farmer's market, put gas in the car, did seven loads of laundry at the laundromat, drove out to the country to pick up the older one from a playdate, walked the in-laws dog, watched scary tv with the girls and my husband cooked us a nice family dinner. We had to sleep over at the inlaws because our furnace was broken. I put my head down and just plowed through the work it takes to maintain a household. A very cold household, with the furnace broken.

I did take time to eat raspberries at the farmer's market with my little one. They were so delicious they made my head explode. They made me wonder why I ever eat anything at all besides raspberries. They were the most supreme raspberries in the known universe. She had a pocket full of quarters and wanted to spend them all on the mechanical horse and honey sticks. We had lots of good talks about things.

The end of the winter plods on like an exhausted workhorse pulling in the direction of the barn. This depression will pass, but it has been an ass kicker.

Chicken Soup for My Black Heathen Soul

2010-02-21T19:52:00.000-05:00

Hi Peeps/Homies.

It was springish here today. The sky was outdoing itself in the blue department, and the temperature was melty. I even heard birds singing. I am grateful today for my community. I was dropped into the this neighborhood kind of like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, and in the four years that have passed I have found a husband, a family and a supportive network of friends all in a five block radius.

Let me tell you about my neighbors. Feeling like death warmed over from this cold, I was hobbling into the apartment when The Pizza Guy stops me. He is the real thing, brooklyn accent and all.

"Hey! Come here! I gotta tell ya I woke up this morning and guess what ugly bastard's face I see? Your husband! Your husband's face right outside my fuckin' window! I didn't know your husband is my fuckin' paper boy! Small world, right?!"

"Uh, yeah. Small world."

"Yeah! Tell me about it! Tell him to keep it out of the snow next time, why don'tcha!? Have a good one now, have a good one!"

My phone rings and a friend of mine is on the line,"Your neighbor's kids are here already, so you might as well drop yours off."
"That's not too many?"
"Oh, no! It's fine!"
"Ok, well, I'll bring all the kids home, then, so their mom doesn't have to come out." At one o'clock, I lead the parade of little ones over the shrinking snow banks home again, my younger daughter clutching her Trouble game to her chest.

My phone rings again. Another neighbor-mom-friend.
"You don't need to come and help me with my computer anymore! I fixed it myself!"
"Croak,"was my response, but it was supposed to be,"really?"
"My god! You sound awful! Get back in bed right now!"
At six, she brought me homemade chicken soup. I almost cried. What did I ever do for anybody to possibly deserve homemade chicken soup? How did I get so lucky? I'm full-on grateful for all these crazy characters that have taken me under their wing.

The hyper/jittery thing is gone. I've heard that you have side effects that pass after the first couple weeks or so, so I guess that is what that was. I slept better last night, although I wanted to sleep all day so that I would heal from this cold. I couldn't do that, so I ate girlscout cookies and read that vampire book everyone's reading for most of the day. Not a bad way to pass a february sunday.

My man has been gone all weekend. He rented his wrestling ring to a show out of state and had to rent a truck and deliver it himself. He found out the hard way that trucks aren't allowed on the toll road, dork. He called me later, out of breath. I guess the promoter didn't want to pay the wrestlers. With a thousand people in the seats, the wrestlers shut down the show in the middle and refused to go on. The promoter got a forced walk to the atm in order to ensure that the wrestlers got paid. Yikes! Who would be stupid enough not to pay a wrestler? After all this, he still has to break down and drive the truck home. I don't know how my husband does it. I couldn't live with the stress of it all.

My throat still hurts.

Side Effects

2010-02-19T20:48:00.000-05:00

Day 2 on drugs
I do NOT feel depressed. I feel pretty sharp. I can think clearly. I haven't cried. I do not feel tired. I don't feel that paralyzing heaviness that has kept me from functioning. Last night, I went on a date with my husband, and I dropped by my inlaws, and I picked up the cookies and the girls from girl scouts, and wrote in my blog. It was a sparkley, A + day. The fact that I could feel creative enought to write at all is a bonus, because even that has been a challenge in recent months.

I tried to go to sleep after my full and productive day, and whizzzzzzz bang! INSOMNIA ALL NIGHT LONG. When I got to doze, I woke up again. I was chatting away happily with my husband at 4 am. Me? ME? I could sleep through a head-on collision with a Mack truck full of pigs. INSOMNIA?! Frickin' awesome! What will I do with the extra hours in my day?! I hope not clean house. I'm pretty stoked about insomnia, just for a pleasant change of pace. Insomnia? Really??? Like Pavarotti putting out a death metal album, this is just plain out of character.

Then there is the bouncy leg. I've got a very bouncy leg. I guess you could say I'm jittery, but it is manageable. If the options are CHOOSE ONE:
A) soul splintering and paralyzing depression where even tying you shoes seems like a cruel punishment from a cruel world
B) insomnia and a bouncy leg
ya gotta go with b, right?

Tonight the girls played every single song by Taylor Swift on YouTube, and sang along with every single word. It was precious.

The sore throat is NOT better. I went to work just out of habit, and then bitched and moaned all day long about my pains and my suffering. When my voice got too croaky and painful, I wrote post it notes about my pains and my suffering, but I REFUSED TO GO HOME. My supervisors took pity on me and just let me wander around aimlessly for a while. See, corporate america ain't all bad.

(My leg? It is bouncing RIGHT NOW. But I'm not depressed about it.)

Day One in My Life With Pharmaceuticals

2010-02-18T21:51:00.001-05:00

Wow! Super comments! Thanks for the audience participation!

Let's talk about drugs. I'm on them. You?

So, I woke up this morning feeling like I should go to work. I had a doctor's note saying I didn't have to, but the doctor does not pay my bills. I walked around the apartment early this morning with my hands on my hips. Looked at the ceiling. Walked around in circles like a dog who wanted to lay down. Puffed out my cheeks and blew the air out noisily, then I said,"Yep. Going to work."

My not-strep throat still HURTS, but they gave me drugs for that too. I'm pretty sure you can take your zoloft and shove it, because codeine, as prescribed by A REAL WESTERN MEDICAL DOCTOR, has already cured all my ills. I was happy as a clam today at they office. Mr. Bluebird was on my shoulder. Yay, codeine!

So, remember how I gave a five minute talk about sustainability at the meeting thing? With the Chinese food? They want me to be "the sustainability person"...ohh, check this..."Sustainability and Corporate Social Responsibility Liaison"!!! I think that means that I go around and yell at people who don't recycle. It might involve making signs with glitter and markers that say,"Turn of the lights, dumb ass!" I'm not sure, but it was nice to be asked, and it will take me away from my other painfully mindless and repetitive duties, so I'm super-psyched.

"Turn off the lights, dumb ass!" Hahaha! I crack myself up. I could put a picture of a butt with an arrow. With glitter.

Remember how I made a snap decision and signed the girls up for girls scouts like two weeks ago? It's only been two weeks and I already have 17 million girl scout cookies in my living room. There is a problem. The cookies HERE are different than the cookies I sold in New York. They are not the same cookies. The leader told me that is because they have a different supplier region by region. This is not okay with me. Girl scout cookies are universal, and you can't just go changing them. If this can be remedied in my newly appointed position of Sustainability and Corporate Social Responsibility Liaison, by golly, I am on it.

So, day one on drugs was good. I'm not supposed to feel anything for four to six weeks. Codeine, unfortunately, is only going to last like a week.

Big, Squishy Breasts

2010-02-17T18:54:00.000-05:00

I thought I was so clever naming my last post Long, Hard 17.6 inches. It turns out, SOME people have this little gizmo when you leave a comment on their blog. After your name it SAYS THE TITLE OF YOUR LAST BLOG POST. For example, ahem,

Wow! That was a great entry!
-NotAMountain, long, hard 17.6 inches.

Now, if that ain't funny I don't know what is! :)

Today was a momentous historic day. Women, if you are sensitive, avert your eyes. I set foot in a regular western medicine doctor's office. I had this throat thing that felt like I had peeled all of the skin off of my gullet, and I thought,"Wow, penicillin might stop this excruciating pain!" Plus, you know, this little depression that I am going through isn't getting any easier, so I thought I could get it all done in one stop shopping! Like Target!

The doctor was so weird. He was not wearing a white coat. He was wearing a bright orange shirt and brown cargo pants. He looked like he was going hiking. He sat all curled in a corner like a cat, hunched over a laptop and just read off questions about my family history without ever looking at me or introducing himself. So I said,"Are you the doctor?"
"Yes,"he said, finally looking up.
"Oh, well, I thought the doctor would make eye contact and introduce himself."
And he said,"Well, I thought it was self explanatory. Who else would I be?" He didn't even crack a smile. I kind of loved him for that. My doctor is an unapologetic asshole.

Whatever. I got some codeine for my throat, a negative strep test, and some Zoloft. ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-loft. You have to say it like Soultrain.

Me-so, Doc, I came here for the magic depression cure.

Doc(still talking to the laptop)-There is no magic pill. You have to be willing to take the journey into your soul, and a therapist can only be your guide.

Me-(laughing)"oh really? can you recommend a guide?

Doc-Insurance companies have destroyed any relationship we ever had with mental health providers. Here's a script for Zoloft. Have a nice day.

But, you see, that is not true! Because I hold the magic depression cure right here in my hands. This is a real paper written by my darling younger daughter, age 7 and 11/12s

5 THINGS MOMMY HAS TAUGHT ME...

1. Perserverance-to keep trying til we get there

2.Cooking-how to make little things for each other

3.Small deeds of kindness-to help somebody in some nice way

4.How to use the computer-to use technology to look facts up and have fun

5. To be confident-Be Bold! Take confidence and fight back!

Ohhhhhhhhh!!!!! Oh! I'm going to frame it. I HAVE made a positive impact. I AM useful. Go me!

P.S. I'm on drugs.

Long, hard 17.6 inches

2010-02-11T21:04:00.000-05:00

This is what 17. 6 inches of lovely fresh snow looks like all over my house. LOVE IT! I feel like I am in my proper place in the universe when I am in a snowy landscape. No one I know loves snow as much as I do, except for only one person- my best friend in Vermont. I love the sparkliness! I love the muffledness. I love the not-having-to-go-to-workness. I love the crunching when one walks. I love rosy cheeks. I love the bundling up in layers...do I look fat? We all look fat! I love my four wheel drive truck. I love snow days. I love lying on my couch at night and watching the snow come down in front of the street light.

For a person who is in the middle of deepest darkest depression, that's a lot of LOVE! They say that being depressed has a lot to do with light. A snowstorm finally gives me that light that I am starving for. I've been feeling pretty good, even though I had to work today and it felt like no one on the planet was leaving their cozy abodes and going out into the world but me. Harrumph. I shoulda been sledding.

If you were familiar with my neighborhood, you would be astounded by this picture because that road is a main thoroughfare that is always jammed with cars. So, that was outside. This was inside.

Say hello to my leetle friends!

The absolute best thing about snow days when you are a kid is not only do you have a fully free unscheduled day, but so do ALL YOUR FRIENDS. These friends live only a few houses down the street. They are the best kids because I can have five kids in my little upstairs apartment, and it will be peaceful and even quiet! Its amazing. Supernatural even.

We do have a problem, though. The bunny cage started this thing with flies. I did not strike early and strike hard, and now our house is totally overtaken. How do you kill flies in winter? They don't fly out the window! So, we had a fly murdering festival. What? You don't have that at your house? They aren't speedy house flies. These are little and slow. Five kids went into attack mode.

Smack...giggle giggle...smack...(runrunrun)...smack...smack...(runrunrun)...smack....giggle giggle.

Good times, folks. If you want to have this much fun, you can have some of my flies for your house...for only fifty cents a fly. I'll even wave the tax.

The Not A Mountain Tribe

2010-02-07T21:34:00.000-05:00

My Man

My Rabbit
The Little One

Elder Sistah Fierce Beauty

The Boss, thank you very much.

Me*

*Nothing is wrong with this picture. I'm blurry in real life.

List of Things That Did Not Suck

2010-02-04T21:58:00.001-05:00

Today was a GOOD day, no qualifiers necessary, all the way to the bottom GOOD. Boy, did I need one! I am big time grateful for a day rated low on the suckage scale. *that's pronouced the french way...suck-ahhh-juh!

THINGS THAT WHERE GOOD ABOUT TODAY:
1. I wore the blue sweater that my daughter brought me from THE Paris, France.

2.I had a meeting where they gave us Chinese food AND cake.

3. I snuck my adorable, amazing coworker a plate of chinese food and cake because he wasn't allowed at the meeting. He was happy. How DARE they withhold chinese food?

4. I spoke at the meeting for like, not even five minutes. It was one of those ones where they send you off in a group to brainstorm, and then someone has to report your collective ideas. Corporate america LOVES these little "brainstorms". I just show up for the chinese food. This time the topic was sustainability and corporate social responsibility. All day long people said to me,"WOW! Mountain, that was such a great presentation!" like I'd done something *really* special when I said, "mygroupthoughtcarpoolingandtelecommutingwouldbegood.Wecouldhave a communitybulletinboardandhealthysnacks." Public speaking? I got that.

5. a surprise love letter in my truck. This is made even more awesome because we have been absolutely at each other's throats lately. Maybe good will prevail! Maybe there is hope for my love life after all!

6.Girls scouts. In another episode of Mountain Makes A Snap Decision, we joined girl scouts tonight. My older daughter has been feeling like an outsider in her classroom, and I could see her just open from the inside like a lotus flower when she realized this group was going to accept her. Oh! It makes my heart swell just thinking about it! She was SO happy!

7. A little girl scout with Downs Syndrome asked me to draw Hannah Montana on her valentine for "the shut ins", who ever they are. I drew her up a Hannah Montana, and felt useful. It was a special moment.

HOW WAS YOUR DAY?
xoxoxoox
Going to bed grateful.

My Musical Thoughts

2010-02-03T20:39:00.000-05:00

Pleasant Expection

2010-02-03T00:28:00.000-05:00

Blessed Imbolc. The winter is pregnant with summer. Today, if you look, you may be able to discover the promise of spring yet to come. Imbolc is a pleasant expectation. It is remarkable to me that even in my grey cubicled workplace, we notice our place in the natural world. The first day that my shift ended and there was still pink in the evening sky, my coworker and I gave hoots of joy."Light! Hooray! No more going home in the pitch dark!" While hiking on a frisbee golf course last weekend, I found crocus buds. At the city rose garden I found buds on a magnolia tree. Spring might really come, regardless of the working of a groundhog. My nature fix might be taken on frisbee golf courses, and walks in an office park, but still it finds me.

Right now it is snowing. but it is a bright and pleasant snow. So much is changed by the gift of more daylight. My commute is almost entirely grey, but I have pleasant expectation.

The pagan holidays make me feel like I am part of the whole, that I am natural and that I am in the right place. Spring will come. Take notice of the small shifts. I am a part of the natural order of things. In nature, I find Love. I find God. I get confused when people try to break the ideas into separate pieces.

I have found myself leaning away from wicca, but I still do enjoy marking the days. My relationship with God is like my relationship with Nature. I cannot separate myself entirely, but I always long to bring myself closer in order to form a stronger bond. Nature never turns her back on me, only I turn my back on Nature. God never turns her back on me, only I turn my back on God.

Ah! Before I go I want to express my deep gratitude for the most outstanding, big hearted comments I've received recently. Totally awesome. Thanks.

What I have learned by staring at the ceiling

2010-01-31T08:36:00.000-05:00

I wrote a long entry about depression and how...(wait for it)...DEPRESSSING it is. HAr hAR HaR. It was so anti-illuminating that I deleted it. The condensed version is " Boy Howdy! I am REALLY depressed!"

My ex's dad, Pop-pop, lives down in florida. He had quintuple bypass surgery. I don't remember if I wrote about this, but there was drama involving my ex and Pop-pop, and just hearing about that sent me into a downward spiral. Triggers can be so insignificant, and yet, these little things are all it takes divert my emotional river. The good news is, Pop-pop came through the surgery just fine, and called us sounding cheerful yesterday morning.

I called my mom to try to talk to her about my ill health, and we got into a big fight. Talking about depression has always made her really uncomfortable. She told me that she didn't like the person that I have become, and then got into a plane and went to the carribbean for ten days. For ten days I have been chewing on this ascertation, and I have decided that it is really great that she doesn't like the person that I have become, because that means I am FREEEEEEEEEEEEE of trying to Be That Person That She Wants Me To Be. Yes! Ever since my mother and I became friends in 2004, I've been trying so desperately to please her so that she will stay my friend. I've considered myself a fuck up who needs to improve in order to gain access to her "Successful In Life Club". This is not her doing. It is all my skewed perception, and now I am FREE OF IT! I am going to be my own person, which is what I was doing from 1980-2004, not giving much of a jot about what she thought.

Dear Skewed Perception That I Have Of My Mother's Expectations,

1)I will not be white, upper middle class and suburban.
2)I will not be thin.
3)I will not be happy all the time.
4)I may never have a mortgage.
5)I will not sell my soul for health insurance.
6) The goal of being the perfect daughter is dead. Sorry.

Love ya! Have a nice trip!
Mountain

I want to make clear that this is not my mom's fault. This is all about the weird stuff that goes on in my head. I thought that if I wasn't the person that she wanted me to be that she would not be my friend. Seriously! I thought that! That is a HUGE sacrifice to make, you know, reorganizing your entire life just for one friendship, even if that person is your mother. I have treasured her friendship, but I have sacrificed too much of my own free will in the valiant effort to be what she considered acceptable.

I'm grown. The only person who needs to consider me acceptable is ME.

So, my mother does not like the person that I have become, and actually, that is pretty awesomely great news.

On to other revelations that I discovered recently while staring at the ceiling:

I have been through a FUCK LOAD of trauma in my life. I will not list them because that would be painful, but there have been a lot.

Since Nov 0f 2008 I have had a reprieve, but that doesn't mean that I can jump right into being emotionally healthy. I am not saying,"Poor me, lets focus on all the bad stuff all the time and feel sorry for Mountain. She should get a cookie." What I am saying is I have been hit by a proverbial truck. Although I look normal, it still hurts. Even though years have passed, I have triggers, phobias and scars. I have clinical major depression. Sorry. I don't need to make past traumas the center of my life, but neither do I need to pretend that I am totally fine.

I have felt pressured to act like I am totally fine, which I guess is the same for everybody. We all try to act totally fine. I have not felt the space or freedom to work it out. I have felt like my "time to be traumatized" was over. The bell rang, but I'm not finished with my test.

So, with a grand wave of my wand,"I allow myself to feel any emotion in the arsenal. I allow myself the space and freedom to work it out as long as the children are being taken care of and I am still holding a job. A job. Not the most wonderful job. I can accept help. Spending time "being depressed" is part of my healing process, and if I don't deal with emotions as the come up, they will come out in other, less convenient, ways."

I came across a book that has helped me almost as much as Cunningham's Depression Workbook. It is Ben Mikaelsen's Touching Spirit Bear. I even wrote him a fan letter, which I have never ever done before, and received a warm, wonderful response. If you or someone you love has experienced a life altering trauma, this book might shift your perception towards positive healing. This book also has amazing, emotionally full male characters, which I appreciate. Maybe this book will help you, too!

Thanks for listening.
mountain

Late January Miscellaneous

2010-01-24T11:21:00.000-05:00

Hi!
I haven't been writing too much lately, as you might have observed. I have been walking around all emotions, but only the painful kind that feel like chunks of glass in the circulatory system. I have cried and laid in bed and studied the ceiling for hours on end, without the ability to pull myself up, put on a cute outfit and throw my beret in the air like Mary Tyler Moore. I have lost my inner Mary Tyler Moore.

It has a lot to do with the sun. I don't seem to be able to change my depressive trajectory, but I can remove myself to observe that these bouts have to do with the moon and my hormones, and not having enough fun and light. My days are filled with one obligation after another from morning til night, always to meet someone else's expectations of me, but never actually for ME. Christmas was one HUGE obligation to everyone I'm related to, work is rewardless, and it is grey, dark and cold outside.

My husband is wonderful at depression triage, and has been urging and beggging me to tattoo, but I am too much of a wet noodle to get back in the game. My bad days do not flood me with a surge of creativity. Creative types get depressed, but depression does not make one creative. I feel a total drought in creativity. I can't even pick out which socks to wear. Boo hoo.

Things are not all bleak, though. My eldest daughter seems to be finding her footing with her schoolmates, at last. Yesterday was a rollerskating birthday party at the roller rink, all the 9 year olds from the charter school were there, and my daughter skated her little heart out to the sounds of Thriller and that media over-saturated Taylor Swift girl. She was red-faced and beaming when I came to pick her up with a neighbor kid in tow. He goes to the old school, so wasn't invited to the party, but was hanging out at our house yesterday afternoon.

"I had a great time, even though I had no one to skate with at couples skate,"she said.
"I would skate with you at couples skate, next time. We could come on a regular day and go skating some time,"said the little neighbor boy, and I just melted into a puddle. Awwwww! Then in his next sentence he called some other kid a dickhead, and I had to be parental and put the kibosh on that, but for a second, I was a puddle of butter.

My younger daughter is her same ol' plucky self. We went out for chinese the other night, and at the take-out place, there was a paper party-warehouse type palm tree, decorated with Christmas tinsel.
"Nice tree,"I said.
"What is that? Do they have palm trees in China or something?"says the little one.
"I guess. China is big. I think they have everything in China."
"They don't have ME in China!"
I've been laughing all week at that. "They don't have ME in China!"

Pitfalls by Jesse Wolf Hardin

2010-01-14T21:09:00.000-05:00

I don't know if you will be much interested in this, but I found some valid points here. It said post freely, so I did. I wanted to hold onto it to look at later.

In other news, my coworker is still in the hospital, but has been chatting happily on the phone and seems to be in good spirits. I don't ever want to be around when someone quits breathing ever again!!!

Pitfalls
On the Animá Path of Self Growth, Self Realization, Service & Purpose
by Jesse Wolf Hardin
http://animacenter.org/
Part 6 of 7

The following is the sixth in a series describing dangerous or limiting pitfalls on the path of personal growth and purpose, misconceptions and maladies that can hinder our understanding, development and manifestation. Please feel to share these with friends:

• The Goal Of No Suffering
Religions have long promised an end to suffering in the “life after death,” while some New Age and Eastern dogma promises techniques to rid us of suffering right now. Avoidance of all suffering in this life, however, can be counterproductive. The expression “no pain no gain” is true in matters of personal growth as well as bodybuilding. Pain is not punishment, but a call to attend. It is not our duty or karma, but rather, the balance to exquisite pleasure. It is the counterweight against which we pull, and it is that pulling which provides the strength of our joy. Pain is not how we pay the fine for past crimes, but how we pay the dues of our membership in the rolls of the aware. It is, in one form or another, one of the prices of heightened sensation, and part of the reward of being a heartful feeler. And beware the draw of drama: The trick is to be awakened and deepened by it, not addicted.

• Misconstruing Illness & Vilifying Death
It is wrong and harmful to imagine that good health and long life is proof of one’s spiritual level or personal powers. At its worst, such thinking can cause the ill to feel at blame for their maladies, and make death seem like a defeat instead of a teacher and unifier. Additionally, while healing oneself physically is important, it’s not as essential as learning from our every illness or disability. It is the practitioner’s sometimes painful lessons and trauma-instigated transformation that affords her the power and wisdom to assist others.

• The Cult Of Happiness
In the pursuit of happiness, some spiritual approaches recommend we avoid negative influences. However, it is exposure to the so called “negative” that tests and fortifies the positive. Systems, habits and regulations are potentially more dangerous to one’s spiritual path than chaos or disruption could ever be. Besides, nature teaches that happiness is too easy a goal for our fleeting finite lives, too low a mark for our aims, too little to ask for one’s primary prayer. Better we covet childish exhilaration and sensual ecstasy, strive for quiet contentment and raucous excitement, pray for the realization of our truest, responsive, sensate selves! Better we seek the fullest expression of that being, suffer the price of our increased awareness, and bear the utter joy that is then our reward! After all, joy and suffering are polar twins, pointing to the same capacity and willingness to feel. Together they widen the scale, expand the measure of how alive we truly are! Happiness is the mind freed of immediate worries, the basket of our lives emptied of all disruptive input. Joy, on the other hand, is an ecstatic disruption – that together with longing and sorrow – fills that basket to the brim. Happiness is comparatively shallow and inevitably conditional, whereas joy is so deep it remains undefeated, even with our honest embrace of the saddest of events. Animá teaches us to embrace both, and to give thanks. For to really enjoy, one must fully enjoin… and fully rejoice!

• Transmutation Of Desire & The Distrust Of Instinct
At times bosses, husbands, priests, politicians and gurus alike have taught that we can’t trust our intuition, because it’s what tells us that “something’s wrong with this picture.” All vested authorities should fear the power of our inherent, native intuition, for it’s what warns us when we’re being disempowered, and what begs us to strike out against what binds us. It’s a red light designed to warn us about the hours of our lives burned up without engaging in truly meaningful activity, the days spent stuck in artificially lit boxes, our earth damaging or soul deadening careers, and any partners we might live with who don’t love and honor us like they should. Intuition is simply “body smarts,” ancient corporeal knowledge directing us to what best serves our real needs and authentic selves — and away from anything failing to serve us in this way. It’s fulfilled by mindful food gathering whether in a store or a field, but it recoils at standing in line. It’s attracted to learning, but suspicious of schools. Our deepest instincts are the still-valid messages echoing the cumulative experience of our evolutionary past, and the forward looking intentions of the Whole. While ideas can be independent of and even contrary to the direction of earth and Spirit, instincts are inseparable aspects of anima inclination and will. Teachers can pass on all the best ideas and processes in the world, but we still need to develop intuition, instinct and discernment in order to personally know how, where and when to apply them.

…to be continued

(To further deepen your study and practice we recommend enrolling in the various Animá 8 Week Courses described on the website, especially the introductory “Orientation, Principles & Pitfalls” and the new course on “Awareness”)

(Forward, copy and post freely)

A few things rattling around in my brain concerning compassion and suffering

2010-01-12T21:36:00.000-05:00

I just thought I'd write down a few things in here. Thank you, Lucy, for the sweet comments. It seems like it's just us chickens around here, but that is fine. I just NEED to write things down. It's an idiosyncrasy, like my doorbell phobia. And my constant hair color changing. And my passion for burritos. Idiosyncrasies, friends, are brush strokes that when taken individually can be largely unattractive, but when put together will form a fascinating individual. I remind myself of this when I get irritated by my own unflapable quirks. If you took out one puzzle piece, the whole picture might be ruined, right?

So today was a sad and terrifying day. A lovely young woman at my office was just fine, and then all of a sudden stopped breathing. I don't want to talk about it too much because clearly it is not my story to tell, but it was ghastly and horrible and really made me think about God a lot. I'm praying, and I've been praying all day, which feels extremely futile. I don't mean to insult God, but I just feel powerless. Life seems to drone on like this oppressive, unshakable thing, and then today I was reminded that life can be light and flimsy, and fly away like a careless lightening bug just out of reach. We aren't really all that important.

In my early twenties, I used to talk a lot about religion, about Wicca, about The Goddess, and The God and spirit guides and ritual, etc, and now I don't feel so Wiccan. I know that my God and Nature are inseparable, but I have lost all desire to wave my Pagan Pride banner. I came to understand Magick so much more by learning about The Law of Attraction, but I don't feel limited to any narrow ethos lately. I enjoyed attending church on Christmas. I find hope in hanging buddhist prayer flags. I have an active relationship with my pantheistic Gods, and if you think that's ridiculous, it doesn't much bother me at all.

What I do think about so much more lately is how fuckin' rough life is. Death. Disease. War. Starvation. Lies. What does your, mine, his or her religion DO about it? To borrow a well worn idiom, about as much as a mustard seed. This young woman's suffering today was rough, and I want to understand why the universe is set up that way. Is it because we are here to learn? Is it because we are animals and what we do doesn't matter? Where does compassion fit in? I think about these things on a tuesday night.

I worry that I am not easing enough suffering. I worry that I don't have enough compassion, and that even my small compassion is not important enough to make any difference. Or, to consider the philosophy of Anton LeVey, why should I resist the cruel nature of the universe? Perhaps I should just, literally, roll with the punches?

I don't know.

More on the head injury, among other things

2010-01-11T21:17:00.000-05:00

Feh.

All day long little cubicle citizens at my place of employment told me that my hair looked awesome. I'm not sure if I had fallen through the rabbit hole into an alternate reality where my hair was in fact awesome, or if my hair just was in fact awesome, or if it was the fluorescent lighting. Either way, I'll take it, with gratitude.

My mother-in-law gave me an astoundingly beautiful jade bracelet made of little carved butterflies for my birthday. I never thought,"Hey, I need a jade bracelet," but now that I have it, I feel that I must smugly inform you that It Is Mine And You Can't Have It.

Really, let's talk about the head injury. I worried myself to death all day at work about it. I was trying to do my work but I kept being interrupted by flashing neon daymares of "MY KID HIT HER HEAD! MY KID HIT HER HEAD!" I wanted to run around flapping my arms like an autistic kid having a spaz because my kid was at school far away from me and I couldn't check on her every five minutes and sing her funny songs, and feed her gummy snacks, and check her temperature, and plot it on a line graph (not a bar graph). My coworker said,"Well, why didn't you take her to the hospital?" and then I was reeling again,"WHY!? WHY!? WHY DIDN'T I TAKE HER TO THE HOSPITAL!? OH GOD! WHY?!"

When I arrived home, I rushed to her and hugged her and said,"How is your head?" And she said,"It was fine all day until I lost my backpack on the bus and had to lean over and pick up my bag. That hurt my head, but it only hurts when I bend. The rest of the day was good. My teacher played ball with me at gym.*" *They don't call it gym. It has a crunchy, granola, hippy name at their school, but it's gym.

She's like, totally fine! Yay! I consider myself a very laidback mom, but I am considering beginning a family tradition of sledding in bike helmets.

What else?

My mom wants to take the children SKIING....ahahahahaha...NO.

Did you know that skiing is not skiing? Skiing is a necessary skill that later in life will indicate one's higher social class, whiteness, northeastern-ness, and future availability for enrollment in an ivy league school. If your children don't SKI then people will KNOW that they were POOR!

(My mother didn't say any of this. It is all implied. Heavily.)

Skiing is what rich people do because their lives are SO SECURE that they have nothing else to do but HURL THEMSELVES DOWN MOUNTAINS to add risk to their padded little SUV driving, mocha drinking, remote control garage opener, music/ballet/tennis lesson, flexible spending account lives.

Personally, I love skiing, but that does not make the aforementioned any less true. I was born and raised a yankee liberal, but my children will be midatlantic greenie bohemians if I have anything to do with it.

:) Just trying to fuckin' relax.

love and light,
mountain

Relax, I'm 30, and it's just a head injury

2010-01-10T20:46:00.000-05:00

Can you believe the astounding, astronomical awesomeness of this card by Anna M.???? Anna, I don't know how I got so lucky as to be your friend.

Being 30 has given me so much to think about. 30 was the age I dreamed about as a small child. I believed that when I was 30 I would be entirely *grown*, living in Barbie's Dreamhouse and fighting Super Villians in an invisible airplane. Am I grown? I guess maybe I am, which might be a tad disappointing because I thought I was going to be MUCH MUCH cooler.

This weekend has been good, though. My new years resolution has really sunk in pretty well, that is, to put it most poetically... JUST FUCKIN' RELAX. I have hated many aspects of my life since 2003, and have been railing hard in an effort to change it, but this year I'm not fighting. I am going to sit back, have a drink, sit on my couch, watch the sunsets, and be gentle with myself. It is ok to not be perfect. I have gotten to a safe resting point, and although there is still lots of climbing to do, 2010 will be the year of chillin'. I may not be able to control all of my rollercoaster life, but my hyper-driven-type A-never!good!enough! personality has been granted a coffee break. Take five.

Today, I lay on my white Ikea couch directly in line with a sunbeam. My livingroom was shockingly clean. Last night I had hung new art that we collected at Christmas on the walls. I unplugged the phone. I listened to spanish guitar and drank gingerale out of a wine glass. I read a book by Julie Andrews (Mary Poppins herself!) until I fell asleep. I stayed asleep for hours. It was sheer heaven! I thought I might explode from the bliss of sitting on my own god damned couch listening to my own god damned music and not doing anything for anybody.

In the afternoon, I brought the girls to the sledding hill. I stayed snuggly in the car and listened to my new Ani DiFranco cd until the girls begged me to give it a go. There was only about a half inch of snow on the hill, and that had been hardened and packed down into the frictionless gloss of a luge track. To my delight, I went down twice at the speed of 125 miles per hour, and then told the girls to have one more turn and meet me in the car.

It was around that time that my oldest daughter started screaming. At first I thought she was playing and ignored her, but she didn't quit. She had fallen off of her sled and hit her head hard on the ice. She could barely stagger up the hill where I was waiting, and I could barely stagger down. I was in full-on panic, but I couldn't show her that at all. I shushed and cooed, promising hot chocolate and administering kisses. I called my husband, and in the nicest, calmest, sweetest, fakest voice told him,"she hit her head. I'm not sure how bad. There is blood. Please come home, darling." You have to know me pretty well to know that when I am speaking at a low volume in a too-calm voice, it means that things are REAL BAD. Once at home I saw that she had a cut on the top of her head about a half inch long. My husband, the regional concussion king, gave me advice and gave her first aid, and within an hour she was A-OK, but that was a frightening hour when I didn't know if I was dealing with brains leaking out of the ear, or just a scratch.

I will be doing the round the clock wake-ups for the kid tonight, just to be safe in case she had a concussion. A little birthday cake and some Disney Channel tv has been a soothing balm. She is cheerful, bathed, pajamaed, kissed and sleeping. I just went to check on her, and told her I would wake her a few times tonight. She said,"Ok, Mommy. I love you. It doesn't hurt any more at all." Thank God.

Hey What Have I Been Doing?

2010-01-03T22:12:00.001-05:00

The windchill outside tonight is between 2 and 7 degrees farenheit, depending on which weather station you consult. It is painful to be outside without your face covered and longjohns on under your jeans. I went out for a walk to stretch my chubby post-holiday legs, and returned home after only a mile, whining like a kicked dog. The viking woman has been handed her hat. At the grocery store, I took my younger daughter by the hand and ran full throttle for the door. Although it seems on the surface to be deeply insulting, there is no reason to be shocked. It is winter. It is cold.

Life is still good. I enjoy barricading myself inside the house after the wrapping paper is torn. Every year I savor my New Year's Exile. It allows me time to read children's chapter books, drink coffee, clean, tidy and put away. Nature knows what I need, and her wicked deep freeze gave me the clear message: SLOW THE FUCK DOWN, SPEEDRACER!

It does no good to fight Nature, so I practiced some bimbling around inside The Pizza Palace.

READ: The Thimble Summer by Elizabeth Enright
CLEANED UP: Xmas has left the building
PLAYED: for the first time in twenty years, Trouble, and lost

COOKED: Venison cheeseburgers
WATCHED: The Wizards Of Waverly Place, Julie and Julia, and my perenial favorite, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. I frickin' love Eduardo. I need an Eduardo tattoo. If I were to have a cartoon character tattoo, it would be MUCH LESS white trash if it were Eduardo, right?

LISTENED TO: The Avett Brothers, and Night on Bald Mountain, and that damned Miley Cyrus because I am a nice mom.
LOCKED THE CAT INTO: the closet. Overnight. By accident.

FACED MY WEIRD PHOBIA: of doorbells. It rang several times this weekend, and I let people in and didn't run to the corner and hug myself.

DID NOT FREAK OUT: that I am turning 30 in T minus days.

So, ***BREAKTHROUGH***** I allowed myself to let go and be mostly unproductive for a few days.

Back to the grind tomorrow.

AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION:

Tell me, do you have a weird, embarrassing phobia, or is it just me?

Respect!

2009-12-28T16:40:00.001-05:00

Why did god not make me this cool!?

peepshow part 1 from peep show on Vimeo.

2009 in Review

2009-12-28T16:40:00.000-05:00

Greetings, loved ones! We are home from NEW YOOOOOOOORK!

We made it home from the Empire State. We had a huge holiday, and a huge 2009. On the long drive home last night, I thought a lot about how skewed my perception was this year. All year long I felt like I was dragging a dead elephant behind me, getting nowhere and going nowhere. Actually, only in hindsight did I see that 2009 was a blockbuster of a year! Kapow! Out of the park!

First of all, lets just observe for a moment that 2009 contained 0% ex-husband. I was in control of my own life for the first time, really, well, ever, because if you really consider the facts, even after I left him he still controlled way too many aspects of my life. Before him, I was a child. Being my own captain for the first time was a shakey experience, but I think I did ok.

-I finished my tattoo apprenticeship this year, and worked as a paid artist.
-I lost the treasured friendship of my mentor.
-I got a regular full-time job and kept it.
- Got a truck, which impacted my life more than I realized it would.
-I was visited by Anna From England and had a great time showing her around.
-I worked hard on bringing the green charter school to life.
-I maintained my relationship of 3.5 years and was married to a kind, generous, creative and nurturing soul.
-I weathered a worldwide economic meltdown.
-I planned and carried off a BIG, FAT, WASP wedding.
-I sent the children to the new school, which actually opened.
-Our family grew to include Buddy, The Giant Bunny, and Gretel, The Homeless Cat.
-I blogged a lot.
-I sent a kid to Paris, France (not Paris, Texas).
-I struggled with reoccurring ear and sinus infections.
-I visited Puerto Rico, and enjoyed the best week of my life.
-My husband lost his hero, his grandfather, but he and his father gave the man a beautiful and graceful death.
- My husband's dream came true and he opened his wrestling training center!!!!!!

Really, no wonder I felt overwhelmed and exhausted...look at that list! The oddest thing is to me is that I felt that I wasn't getting anywhere. I got to a lot of places, and I am definitely in a healthier and stronger spot than I was a year ago. Silly girl! You had no clue!

I think the main focus and triumph of 2009 was FAMILY. The wedding brought us all together. The children spent so much time with my parents and with my aunt and uncle on the farm this year. My husband and I grew together, and our families actually enjoy each other's company. My husband's family truly became like my own. I spent a lot of time on the phone with my mom, and I finally could clearly see the benefit and feel the support of a loving, tight, balanced network of family. I reconcilled with my sister.

What I did not do: gain financial stability, lose weight, end my cycle of endless ear infections, get health insurance, turn vegan, open an etsy shop, collect child support or become a successful tattoo artist.

As for 2010, I hesistate to make resolutions. I still feel like I have a long way to go to become the Me of My Dreams, but I don't want to beat myself up about it all year like I did in 2009. On January 8th, I'll turn 30, and as a child I always dreamed of being thirty...in my mind, the perfect age. I feel like the last decade was all about trying new things and making mistakes. What will happen in my 30s?

Love and light to you and yours, during the holidays and throughout the new year!
Namaste,
Mountain

A Regular Mother

2009-12-21T22:16:00.000-05:00

I have a little girl at home.
I kept her so nicely on little sandwiches,
little doll shoes,
skateboards, mittens and Raffi songs.
I sent her to school with a hug
and a lunch box.
"You are awesome!" I called.
I told her sincerely.

I am astounded by my Frankenstein creation.
"Do you know that I am your MOTHER?
There was nothing, and then there was YOU.
I made you. It is mindblowing. Really. Just think of it."
She looked up at me, and nodded.
She really didn't care where she came from.
She wanted to find the cat hiding under her bed.

I didn't add the most amazing part.
It is amazing because I am regular down to the very marrow.
My insides are beige, and slightly rotten.
I am not made of fairy wings and sincere prayer,
yet still, it happened.

It has happened six billion times
(just in the last century)
this business of adding people to the planet,
but is it always like THIS?

When she was born
I asked my mother,
"When does she stop feeling like a piece of me?"
"Never,"she said.
"No, I'm not talking symbolically, Mom. I mean
she feels like a piece of me...like an arm, or a kidney, on the outside of me."
"I know,"said my mother," and the answer is never."
"Weird,"I said.

I was trying to tell you about sending her to school.
I sent her to school, and another little girl there
doesn't like her.

My daughter reported this to me,
and I had to see it for myself.
How preposterous!
Not liking my daughter!
Show me the cold hard facts.

I approached this other little girl.
She was pretty.
She was clear.
She was totally unintimidated by me.

"You don't like my daughter?"I asked.
"No, I don't,"she told me. "None of my friends like her."
"None?" I gasped.
"No."
"Why?"
"She brags. Even if I wanted to play with her, my friends wouldn't. I can't make them like her."
"Did she do something mean to you?"
"No."
There was a chilling finality in her tone.
This little girl was telling me that Santa Claus was not coming to the ghetto; that chocolate makes me fat; that art and music are a waste of time; that it was time I wake up and realize that war is inevitable.

I rose up from my crouched stance to my full height.
"My daughter is awesome,"I said.
I told her sincerely.
"All she wants is to get along with you and your friends. Show kindness."

Show kindness.
I asked her to show kindness, like all I needed to do is ask for what I want
and it makes a speck of difference.
Hey! End addictions!
Feed the hungry!
Show kindness!

My magical power was used up
in creating a daughter.
I am regular down to the very marrow.

Stay Human

2009-12-20T17:45:00.000-05:00

You already know my husband calls me "his viking woman," a high compliment meaning thick, strong, tough, resilient, pagan, bold, and adventurous. He laughs when I walk out into the twenty degree weather, take a deep breath and say,"Oh, yeahhhhh," while he is shivering and hopping from one foot to another. I grew up in the cold and snow, and I genuinely love it. I get more excited watching skiing videos than I do watching porn. Scary, but true.

I feel happy in my blood today because it was about 25 degrees out, with five inches of fresh powder on the ground, and a blindingly happy blue sky. Winter doesn't have to be grey and dripping. Winter can decorate every surface with diamonds. When I have a new home, I'm going to decorate the whole thing in white and sky blue. I want to live in a Tiffany's box.

I took the girls and a friend to the big sledding hill behind the college. There were between fifty and one hundred people there, bundled in boots, snowpants, parkas, hats and mittens, festively throwing themselves down the most perfect sledding hill in the city. I haven't been sledding in at least ten years, but I took a turn at the back end of a toboggan with my older daughter sitting in front of me. We whooshed down the hill, and I felt so happy that I thought I might bust. The sled disintegrated under us. It seems that over the summer it was dragged behind a bicycle over the concrete, allegedly carrying one or more neighborhood children. I hypothesized that such treatment might compromise the integrity of said structure. On the next downhill glide, the other sled crumbled. It was also subjected to summertime abuse. What can you do? There were still snow angels to make.

The biggest news around here is that my husband's wrestling ring ARRIVED. It came on a big truck from North Carolina, all 18 feet of metal and rope. It is beautiful, black and shiny, with a black vinyl apron reminiscent of Batman's cape. He tightened the turnbuckles and bumped the ropes, and suddenly he seemed in focus. He has been in a million frenetic pieces lately, and they all became aligned into harmonic order. I saw it. I hope it is a good sign. He still sleeps only three hours a day, eats shit, and smokes like Dennis Leary. It pisses me off to no end to watch him dangle from a spider's thread on a daily basis, but he has to do this, it seems. I feel peripheral because, well, I am peripheral. This is his thing. I am proud, scared, powerless, nervous, and jealous.

An elf told me that I am getting some of the tattoo equipment I need for Xmas and my birthday (which are sort of the same thing since they are only two weeks apart). That scares me to death. My mentor took the wind out of my sails, and I am not feeling so confident after being away for three quarters of a year. Tattooing takes A LOT of self confidence and nerves of steel. I will practice on myself at first. I'm ruminating about the lyric I heard..."Every flower has the right to be bloomin'...stay human." Sorry about the dirty hippies in the video, but this is the best version of the song.

I want to work on single needle work that I can style more like a pencil. Hurts like a bitch, though, that fine line stuff.

Tomorrow is the Solstice. I can feel a schism in the field right now...maybe schism isn't the right word. A lot of thoughts and information floating around in my head without a focus, I try to grab them but I feel too heavy. Tomorrow the light comes back.

Ancient Origins: Solstice: "'Shall we liken Christmas to the web in a loom? There are many weavers, who work into the pattern the experience of their lives. When one generation goes, another comes to take up the weft where it has been dropped. The pattern changes as the mind changes, yet never begins quite anew. At first, we are not sure that we discern the pattern, but at last we see that, unknown to the weavers themselves, something has taken shape before our eyes, and that they have made something very beautiful, something which compels our understanding.'

--Earl W. Count, 4,000 Years of Christmas"

Blessed be!

Allentown Trio Yuletide Concert

2009-12-15T19:41:00.000-05:00

I stumbled upon this program called Snapvine. You call and speak into the telephone, and it records you voice! How cool! I was testing it out, and it turned into an impromptu concert, including such selections as Silent Night, The Johnny Appleseed Song, and half of Miley Cyrus' The Climb before the dang thing cut off....

This is such a treasure! Someday my girls will be big, and I won't be able to hear those little voices!! Turn your speakers ON!
Click here for a front row ticket to The Allentown Trio Yuletide Concert

Entry Number Two Of The Day!

2009-12-14T21:14:00.000-05:00

My husband all snuggled up with a cozy quilt, a cat, and an Anton LeVey book, fast asleep. xoxoxo!

Me, on my way to The Dinnah Pahhh-tea, darling.

Happy Happy Happy Holiday Of Your Choice

2009-12-14T19:19:00.001-05:00

Hey, guys, I know you have been pining for some great green Solstice Celebration tips, but I bet you couldn't even IMAGINE that the hot girl in the Aerosmith videos had your answers! Get it? Pine-ing? Oh, holiday humor, you sleigh me! Get it? Sleigh, slay??? Hohoho!
Turns out Alicia Silverstone is hot on the INSIDE, too! Awww! Heartwarming!

GREEN CHRISTMAS IDEAS BEYOND USING THE FUNNIES FOR WRAPPING PAPER

Here is another blog that everyone in America should be reading: JINXIBOO.COM Jinxi is a lot like that person who I WANT to be, who, sadly, is totally different from the person that I am.

I also have been hanging out here: Christine Kane's Blog This is a link to her list of 21 ways to be more creative...beginning and ending with her advice, and I paraphrase, TURN OFF THE FUCKING TELEVISION! Sometimes her advice can be like those Life Changing Woman's Day Articles...Turn Your Station Wagon into a Porsche in Five Hundred Words or Less, but I get a strange comfort from self-help soundbites AND I have the self awareness to admit it. Some of my bloggybuddies have been choosing a word to define their coming year. Have you seen that? That is a Christine Kane thing! Have you chosen a word yet? I think mine will be
multi-orgasmic.

YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

Because I love you,I will now give you the recipe for my current favorite Christmas cookie, made by my SUPER-BAKER MOTHER IN LAW, perfect for sharing a saucer with a hot cup of tea: It's not the holidays without Potato Chip Cookies

My day kind of sucked and was boring/dreary, but it was greatly enriched by The Chanukah Song by Adam Sandler. Here is Sandler's song being sung by Neil Diamond, I think...

Hope your holidays are warm and joyful, how ever you celebrate them...
Yeah, still nothing going on.

Looking A Gift Horse in The Mouth

2009-12-13T22:45:00.000-05:00

I have found myself in a writing drought. It's not the writing's fault, actually. It's my life, which is normally my bottomless source of exasperated inspiration. My life is in a rather uninspiring rhythm right now. I'm so used to chaos that I feel awkward about the fact that my life consists of going to work/coming home to a happy family/doing chores/sleeping. I've started out entries and deleted them after the third paragraph, squinting at the computer screen and stumbling upon the realization,"HOLY SHIT BALLS, that is BORING!" Stablity sucks, man. No conflict in the plot.

I haven't been BEING ME very often lately. I feel like I am scrambling all hours of the day trying to please people, and well, come on, we alllllll know that I am not the People Pleasing type. My husband needs this...my kids need this...my work needs this...hustle hustle hustle. I do EVERYTHING that I do out of a sense of obligation. I know a lot of adults live in this state for years, my mother especially, doing The Right Thing morning noon and night, but I wanted to have more of a sense of freedom and joy.

Things are fine.

Have I defined myself by my disasters? YES! Without a disaster, what am I? So unused to a calm sea, I wonder if that flat, peaceful blue expanse is actually The Doldrums, gleefully waiting to kill me with thirst.

Is this ok, this safe, peaceful, repetitive life?

Damned if I know.

My cat, in heat, escaped the house somehow. "Oh, shit, she'll come back pregnant,"I said. She did return, all wet paws and cold ears. My little daughter, the animal lover down to the cellular level, cuddled her sweet kitty and, grinning widely, said,"Aww, Mommy! I could be holding five cats right now!"

My cat has a more interesting life than I do right now.

I am stretching myself to inhabit my safe little box. It's a new world for me. Climate controlled and artificially lit, I feel ungrateful even mentioning that it makes me itch.

I love Winter. Seriously.

2009-12-10T22:23:00.000-05:00

I feel that buzzing happy holiday energy this year, the kind I haven't felt since I was a kid. I've found a whole bunch of joy in odd places lately. My husband surprised me with a camoflage steering wheel cover (the truck came with one, but it was worn through). He noticed mine was busted and replaced it. It could make a redneck girl weep...just. so. beautiful.

I took a pair of scissors to my own hair and a box of at-home hair color. Don't be alarmed. I do this from time to time, and I know what I'm doing, seriously. My hair was very unhealthy, which really brought to my attention that my whole body is rather unhealthy. I cut off everything that was straw-ish, dyed the whole thing my old-standby shade of red, and feel like a new penny. I have a face that goes with lots of different hair colors. Isn't that weird/lucky?

We have been laughing a lot at work. Even the most staunchly starched has been melting into giggles, and the positive vibe almost makes work feel fulfilling. Almost.

I took the girls for a walk in the freezing wind tonight. They don't get home til late because of the charter school bussing system, and I have been trying to figure out creative ways to exercise my little ponies. When I was little, in upstate new york, we went out no matter what the weather. "Wasn't that terribly cold?" Fuck yeah, but we went out anyway. Tonight, the girls and I went out anyway, and were terribly cold, but I rather enjoyed it. My cheeks stung in protest of the wicked night wind, but something deep, deep, deeeeeeep down says,"Ahhhhh. Back in your natural habitat." I embrace my inner viking woman.

Am I boring you? I am rather boring, but what do you expect from a story without conflict? Ok, Ani DiFranco hasn't left her baby-daddy for a new polyamorous threesome with myself and my husband yet, but...there is still time.

Don't be afraid, it's only bluegrass

2009-12-07T22:37:00.001-05:00

Holy Shit! I love this song! It's bluegrass, so be careful... :) You may want to dance.

Imagine me, driving through the dark and sideways snow in my beloved green truck. I had mascara on and everything because I was on my way to a Eagerly! Anticipated! Dinner! Party! I had left my husband behind at home in a feverish heap with only the cat and his theraflu for company. My day was long, fruitless and frustrating. To my surprise, this came on the radio, an even more rollicking version than this was on Prairie Home Companion of all places, and Mr. Kellor described the band as "having everything a young band needs; interesting hair and skinny as snakes." I think I had a musical orgasm. What is WRONG with me? I'm from the suburbs of NEW YORK! There is no reason at all I should like this type of music, but I LOVEITLOVEITLOVE IT!!!! Oh, I am so saving my pennies and buying this album. Twice. And making all of my country-hating friends listen to it. Twice.

So, I've got my eldest daughter on my mind, lately. She tells me she is having trouble fitting in at school. It tears me up. I remember being nine, and intimidated by the girls who always seemed to have their socks match their scrunchies. Terrible stuff.

The cat is in heat. She tries to attract the interest of my sweet, innocent bunny rabbit. She must be pretty desperate, but hey, I got with my ex husband, so I'm not pointing fingers.

The Beginning Of December

2009-12-02T08:13:00.000-05:00

The night before last, I got out of work 22 minutes early. The moon was full. I put christmas carols on in the truck, and I sang on the way home.

When I got home, a woman popped out of the car, pointed a camera at me, and drove away. She couldn't have been taking a picture of me, could she? Perhaps she was transfixed by the gorgeous, glowing full moon over my shoulder? My holiday spirit was silently snuffed out. I reminded myself that the days of being followed by private investigators, aimed with the intent of finding fault and taking my children from me, are over. I forced myself into jolliness by loudly singing "Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer" as I climbed the stairs to the apartment. My home was filled with the smells of a good dinner and a loving family. My husband was vacuuming, and you know nothing turns me on like a man doing housework. I wondered what my ex comes home to at night. He wouldn't start that stuff again, would he? No matter. Years have passed and I have spent them building a solid foundation under me, I told myself. I am stronger, but even after years passing, the fear is still there.

My ex's sister in law showed up on my doorstep last weekend. I was a dishevelled mess, of course. She let me know that she is getting a divorce, and their house is being foreclosed upon. She has lost about one hundred pounds, and I would not have recognized her if I passed by on the street. I wished her all the best, but I felt terribly awkward. Those are the moments when I wish my hair was brushed, at least.

Last night we decorated the christmas tree. My mind was filled with work issues, and bills, and cleaning, and all the obligations of the holidays, yet all that melted away in watching the girls' glee. "Oh! Look at this one!" "I remember when I made this!" "This is my favorite one! No, this is my favorite one!" Many ornaments do come with attached memories. We unwrapped candles and light-up Santas, a ceramic centerpiece and a green and red tree skirt, and the girls' seemed enthralled with it all. Afterwards, we lit the tree and all the candles, drank hot chocolate, cut out paper snowflakes and watched The Polar Express. I wouldn't have done any of this if it weren't for them. I would have sat in my dark room surfing Facebook. Having a loving family is my biggest blessing.

I have torn the house apart. Since starting working full time in May, organizing the wedding, going away on my honeymoon, and my husband 110% focused on starting his business, the house did not clean its' self. I realized that I have never lived in one place long enough to need to steam clean the carpets, scrub the baseboards and launder the curtains. You have to WASH curtains? I didn't know.
I also didn't know how much satisfaction I could get from doing it. Don't be confused, it's not like, Yay! Housecleaning! but I am maturing into appreciating clean towels, folded and put away. I spent an afternoon underneath the folding table I use as a desk, going through papers and throwing things away. Then I went after the closet. Then I went after the girls' room (Goddess help me!). My girls aren't into toys. I know, it is weird. They are into projects. Knitting projects. Sticker projects. Sewing-painting-glitter projects which leave little paperbits-clothbits-glitterbits, sticky with glue, stuffed into every orafice of their bedroom. Beads are EVERYWHERE. Not just under the bed. IN the bed. Underneath the carpet that was supposed to be wall-to-wall. In the doll's shoes. In between the pages of Nancy Drew...beads! Who am I to stiffle their creativity? Never one myself for "tidyness", exactly...I may have found that even I have a limit. I have excavated about half of the apartment thus far.

Introducing Gretel

2009-11-30T22:13:00.000-05:00

Gretel brings so much joy into my life. She knows when my bedtime is, and she comes to have her ears scratched before I fall asleep. Regardless of how irritating my day has been, I fall asleep happy, listening to her purring. In the morning, my husband looks for her, and gives her "talks" about her obligation to end mouse lives. He brings her presents from the dollar store. Watching him fall in love with Gretel makes me think he will be a very good Dad to a baby.

I had to sign up for my health insurance benefits today, which also makes me think about babies. I want to have two more, but I didn't plan the first two, and so I have no experience in planned babies. It's all new! How much money do I need? When is the right time? Now? Later? Never? What should I do? How much does prenatal care cost? How long does it take? When will it happen? What if I don't like the thing, can I send it back? Apparently, there is a no return policy. My worst fear is giving birth to an asshole.

My best friend freaked out today when I talked about this with her. She has a strong opinion: NO MORE BABIES! NO! NO! NO! I think in her worldview only truly insane people have more than two. For me, I feel so enriched by my girls, and I feel like having a big family would be a dream come true. Even after every ounce of excrutiating hell I withstood in my divorce and ensuing custody nightmare, that never obscurred the joy that I get from my kids. To me, the experience was hell/mothering is AWESOME!

I want to experience what it all would be like with a loving, stable, rational partner, too. I missed that when my girls were small. I want to build a beautiful tribe, and have that be part of my legacy. My mom warns me that the age difference between the girls and whichever children we eventually have will be difficult. My mom had one in highschool, one in middle and one in elementary, and was very, very tired. My husband, forever the optimist, says who better to help the children navigate the situation than me, having lived it myself?

Sure, there is money and time and resources to worry about, and I'm taking the time to worry about them this time. I'm trying something new: Looking Before I Leap. Thinking Before Acting. Plannnnnnnnnnnnning.

“When planning for a year, plant corn. When planning for a decade, plant trees. When planning for life, train and educate people.”-Chinese Proverb

Shrug. We'll see. Family planning gives us the illusion of control, but still there are an infinite number of uncontrollable variables. There, exactly, is the point where I contemplate the role of The Gods. We'll see.

A few art projects

2009-11-23T23:24:00.000-05:00

Pocahontas

2009-11-22T21:53:00.000-05:00

Hello from the parenting trenches. Whoo0-ya! I'm a parenting marine today! This hippy granola school that I so intelligently enrolled my children in is really busting my chops. I need an AUTHENTIC pocahontas costume by tuesday, I need a native american dish to serve four, I need a poster with 5 pocahontas facts, 3 pocahontas pictures, and a timeline with 7 events. The timeline must be memorized. I need one hundred paper plates and signed report cards to bring with me on tuesday for parent teacher conferences AND there was also a book report to do, due Monday.

It started at seven am with the "mommymommymommy, are you awake? Let me put the ass of the cat in your face!" There is nothing like waking up to the wrong end of a cat to put me in a great mood.

My husband was doing color commentary for a double header today, and took my beloved truck. No problem! Off we hiked to the drug store for posterboard. We cut and colored and copied. I can do posters in my sleep. We used genuine fall leaves, just for pizazz.

Then it came down to the costume. The real Pocahontas was naked. John Smith commented in it in his journal. All the boys were turning cartwheels, and she wheeled around with them, completely unaware of her heathen nakedness, to paraphrase. You can't go from the disney pocahontas, obviously. What does a 17th century Algonquin girl wear? That I have in my house?

Nothing. I can't find any useful resources online. Everything has seventeen years of beading and animal pelts involved. I get out the movie The New World, and the girl wears leather dental floss. I can't send my kid to school in that. I begin to get frustrated. I take down an old bedsheet, and start cutting and making fringe. Hours pass. Complete disaster. My elder daughter tells me she can't wear it. I say fine and sulk in the bathtub, grumbling fuckthisschoolandtheirgoddamnauthenticnative

americancostumedamandingvolvodriving

organicyogurteatingbunchoffuckingassholes, etc.

Now I'm out the material I was going to use, and the kids want dinner. I order chinese, and take down my husband's brown curtain in "The Man Room". Too bad. If you hadn't abandoned me and taken my truck, your window would still be dressed. I put in a completely child inappropriate movie that I like, tell the kids not to listen to the dirty jokes, and get out a needle and thread. I try to psych myself up. I can do this. I sew all the time. I got a B in home ec in eighth grade. I make dresses ALL THE TIME, if by all the time you mean never.

So, sew sew sew, eat a steamed dumpling, sew sew, check the book report, sew. Here is the finished product. It ain't no great shakes, but let me assure you, it is well, WELL beyond my capability. My daughter totally loves me, and tells me that she will remember this when she becomes a teenager and is tempted to hate me. She better.

I give you....Pocahontas.

Getting There

2009-11-21T09:09:00.000-05:00

Last night my husband and I went on a date. I had woken up in the morning crying. I dreamed about my friend who had passed away last spring, and every time I think of her, I think of her young family, just like mine. I think about the fact that my time on earth is limited, and I am not yet what I want to be.

All day I was in a bad mood. I have a gong that goes off inside me, chiming "Get there. Get there. Get there." I don't know where there is. I only know it isn't here. It is tormenting.

So, on my date with my man (he is SUCH a good man!) we talked about the time when we first met. Only days after we met, I found myself in the emergency room with a 103. 7 fever. I had just returned from a trip to the Adirondacks. I had just met my future husband, and had pulled an all-nighter (or two?) just to spend time with him, and then I fell sick. I thought I had been biten by a poisonous spider while I was camping because I had a welt the size of a lacrosse ball on my rear end.

When I got to the hospital, they whisked me inside, and all of a sudden, just like on tv, there were six people on me, poking me and proding me, and giving me ivs. They diagnosed me with MRSA, and coursing with antibiotics, they sent me home at about 3am.

I got in my car and drove to Wegmans, the giant 24 hour grocery store. They have a cafe inside, and there I sat, hospital bracelet on my wrist, eating eggplant parmasean in the wee small hours of the night. I chuckled to myself over the absurdity of it all.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME!?"interjected my husband. "I would have been awake!"

"I only just met you! I didn't want you to see me. I had a contagious, life threatening disease." So, I waited until the next day.

What I remembered then, falling on my head like a bucket of rocks, was that I had no one. My ex was still in full-on attack mode. He had the kids half of the time. My family was all the way up in northern New York. I had no one to call.

Now, only three years later, my house is full. I have full custody of my children. I am married. I have lovely in-laws five blocks away. I have my aunt and uncle on the farm only 45 minutes away. I would never have to drive myself home.

So, maybe I am "getting there". Even though the pushing mantra plagues me, I have crawled up and out of the pit without even taking the time to look backward. I have built something. I have grown. I have evolved. I am not going to take a break and rest on my laurels, though. I've got a lot to do.

Vent

2009-11-16T21:13:00.000-05:00

Dear Old People,

Old people irritate me. I know, I'm going to hell, but I want to address some specific issues with you "Goldie Oldies" directly.

Say that you are 135 years old, and you know that you are deaf. I know you know that you are deaf! Don't act like you don't know! You get the indication that you might be deaf when you have to say,"WHAT!?" every time someone speaks to you. Not sometimes. Every time. If this is your situation, Do Not Call Me On The Phone. It's ok to be deaf. I embrace your different-ness. It is time to step out of denial. You don't even have to go so far as to get Miracle Ear. WRITE ME A LETTER. Do not ever call me on the phone again if you cannot hear a truck load of elephants smashing into a glass factory.

Speaking of correspondence, don't act horrified if I ask if you have an email address. I have to ask. It's my job. I find it pretty funny too. I know you don't have email, but please don't act like you don't know what email is. Don't explain to me the reasons that you don't have email. Don't tell me who in you family has email, even though you don't. Don't tell me that you have never have had and never will have email, and that you feel that you are discriminated against because coupons are available on the internet. Your argument doesn't hold water. Sorry that you are old.

As a concession, I give you permission to continue making fun of my name. It cracks me up every time some person born around the time of Christ says,"What? WHAT!? Are you kidding me? That's your name? REALLY?! Your mother NAMED you THAT?" I laugh especially hard when you say,"What ethnicity ARE you?" and then, "Well, ok..." like you've just given me permission to have my name. Go to town. I won't name my kid Lois, so we are even.

Thanks,
The Management

My Husband's Stitches

2009-11-12T22:14:00.001-05:00

There is a before stitches picture that is even worse, but I will leave that to your imagination.

Laryngitis can be fun

2009-11-12T21:30:00.000-05:00

Today I had no voice.

Last night I woke up at two am. My throat hurt, and I was coughing and snotting long ropes of green phlegm at an alarming rate, as I have been for the past week. I thought I should probably get into a hot bath and steam myself clean, and just like they say on those medical tv shows, "try to open an airway." I got into the tub, and it was there that I discovered that my voice was missing. I tried singing a "DoReMiFaSoLaTiDo", like you usually do when you are taking a bath in the middle of the night because you are covered in snot and suddenly discover that you have laryngitis. The strange squeaky honks that came out where my lovely singing voice should be startled the cat. The scared cat struck me as humorous, so I started laughing. It didn't come out nicely, what with the laryngitis and all, more gaspy and squeaky and odd, but I enjoyed a good cackle from the bathtub at two am last night. I don't know why people think I'm insane.

I can't fall asleep again until, you guessed it, just before it's time to get up. I still have no voice, I'm still coughing and snotting all over the place, and yet I decide it's a really great idea to go to work. My reasoning be that if you go to work, they give you money.

I must have looked really horrible because people just said to me,"Are you sick? Stay away from me!" and put file folders over their faces. Seriously. Grown adults. More than once. My missing voice evoked a lot of pity, too, and they gave me a data processing job that I could slink away into a corner and work on in silence. This made me pretty happy, so even though I wasn't much for jokes, I worked like a busy bee all the way to the end of the day without catastrophe. A nice lady even gave me herbal tea.

I really am fine. Its just a cold with some really cool special effects. It's payday tomorrow. My truck has new brakes. I have a giant bunny. My friend's biopsy is cancer-free. I'm feeling positive. Just quiet.

Not A Mountain

Goodnight Earth

Life Audit

It is too hot to think of a title...

The Entry After The Turtle Story

The story, how I heard it...

Photos of an Evening Walk

June in Photos

Oh, say! Can you see?

Tuesday, Sunshine, Park, No Cubicle

Have A Little Faith There is Magic In The Night

Emotional Evolution

My husband is searing tuna steaks

Serenity Now!

The Assumptive Cupcake Ritual

Revisiting The Postal Service or Hot Damn! I love Pandora!

Bread and Roses

A Saturday Unscheduled

2007 Rerun: Wicca Books To A Good Home

Long About Knee-Deep In June

The Big Deep

Good News From The Adirondack Mountains!!!

Ur Doin It Right

Realization

It appears that I don't know what I'm talking about. Again.

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else. ~Emily Dickinson

Your average every day run of the mill stress.

Sprinkle Your Own Pixie Dust

Buddhist Menopause and Sleeping in a Sunbeam

My Weekend

Relaxing The Best Way I Know How

The One Where I Say *Poof* too much

Live From Panera!!!!!

On Owning Hips

Easter and Thatcher Park Photo Essay

Sunday Sermon

Let's Talk About MY PERIOD! Yay For YOU!

Under Construction

Gaahhh!

Freegans Without The Dumpster

Zen, Leukemia, The Alphabet and It's Debatable Level Of Ease To Learn

Lurkers! De-Lurk!

Blessed Be! Happy Spring!

My I Am Poem

DeNiro and The Chocolate Drops

Back In The Saddle

Being Stupid Is Nice

People Like Lists

I'm really ok. Really.

March Miracle..Pennies From Heaven

February's End

Chicken Soup for My Black Heathen Soul

Side Effects

Day One in My Life With Pharmaceuticals

Big, Squishy Breasts

Long, hard 17.6 inches

The Not A Mountain Tribe

List of Things That Did Not Suck

My Musical Thoughts

Pleasant Expection

What I have learned by staring at the ceiling

Late January Miscellaneous

Pitfalls by Jesse Wolf Hardin

A few things rattling around in my brain concerning compassion and suffering

More on the head injury, among other things

Relax, I'm 30, and it's just a head injury

Hey What Have I Been Doing?

Respect!

2009 in Review

A Regular Mother

Stay Human

Allentown Trio Yuletide Concert

Entry Number Two Of The Day!

Happy Happy Happy Holiday Of Your Choice

Looking A Gift Horse in The Mouth

I love Winter. Seriously.

Don't be afraid, it's only bluegrass

The Beginning Of December

Introducing Gretel

A few art projects

The One Where I Say Poof too much