Goodnight Earth

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

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...

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

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...

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

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

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?

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

   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

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

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

 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!

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

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!

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

   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

    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

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

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