Saturday, November 24, 2007

Travels with gnomes

There is something mind bending about hurtling through space to have a great meal and hauling progeny with you. I find my mind on the dogs, on the houses, on the job hunt and wonder that the roller coaster of my life is just so freaking weird.

I think other people probably consider their lives strange, too beyond imagination, but not everyone. I also think I tend to exaggerate when big changes come, especially ones completely outside my control.

This week has been traveling to get big kids, hangin out one day and shopping for Chanuaka, traveling again, eating The Meal - after brother in law broke his ankle in pick up basketball - and cleaning and then grazing... for days...

Now we are in recovery mode - another day of shopping (interview clothes) and I'm into knitting gifts ... and bracing myself for returning the kids to Nashville.

It's been nice to finish two books, think a bit, consider being better about staying in touch with everyone.

I needed the time to just be.

Once Gwyneth starts her new school on Monday, I'll be able to turn to the more important, if mundane matters. I think the satisfaction of rolling up my sleeves and digging in is the only way I know to keep the dark shadows of deepest fears at bay. I'll do the usual networking, interviewing (some for info, some for jobs) and connecting.

In addition, (knowing myself and what works very well) I'll also clean, bake and unpack. Still haven't made it in for the "salon" visit, but at least the clothes are bought :) I get a jacket and slacks, Gwyneth gets a new outfit for school!

All my knitting goodies are also good comfort! Have filled a room with hand-crafts : besides yarn and fiber for spinning, there is sewing and scrapbooking supplies. Baskets, art. Collections of witches and sheep/lambs. I have my clothes in my own room, (yippee!) and books of course, always books.

Ah - music will have to have a corner too:) I, for one, thought that the final installation of Harry Potter should have included music as one of the Deathly Hallows, or some similar strongest magic to defeat Voldemort! Went to the symphony a couple of weeks ago - heavenly.

Pictures to be posted soon. New skill on new blog space.
be well,

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Soul Searching and Soul Food

A Recipe for Moving Forward

Ok - so the next step is dealing with details. Like "what do I need to know to make the next decision", contemplate the ingredients. What do I have, what do I need? Do I have the right tools in my virtual kitchen?

And then a long long drive. Let it all settle in a bit.

I'm thinking Athens. And hang out with friends who have known me for several lifetimes.

And then just sit some more, piddle, knit, bake maybe. Clean... but not in any pointed fashion.

Maybe keep driving - go see Aunt Linda, my grandad's one acre in sandy ant infested South Georgia. Go to the beach. Sit.

Go to Charlotte. Sit and drink tea. Hang out.

Show up in St. Louis for a court date in December - old business trying to get a rental deposit back. Hope for an easy win and cash they owe me :) Be worthless otherwise.

Tie up loose ends and finish thinking by the Winter Solstice... maybe I'll re-read some old wise books... you know, where you read and don't really retain anything...

Celebrate Chanuaka. Practice my Hebrew. Just be at services. Soak it all in.

I think I'll get my hair cut. In Macon (an hour south of Atlanta). By my cousin. Family with benefits . Simple stuff. The stuff of life.

Comfort Food

Ok - here is a normal response to change: eat your favorite foods. Disregard calories.

this morning it was cathead biscuits and sawmill gravy. Came out alright, but the biscuits could do with a tad less wheat flour. Aunt Betty, Queen of Southern Biscuits, would stare if I told her I was trying to make biscuits with wheat. But I'm stubborn that way. Something about the wheat cancels out the sausage gravy fat :)

Here are my recipe sources and notes:

whole wheat biscuits
I added some wheat germ -

sawmill gravy,,FOOD_9936_153,00.html

1/2 cup of beef bouillon (1 cube) and 1.5 cups milk and beef brat wurst (2)
pepper and premixed flour into cold milk

simmer down to right consistency

Monday, November 12, 2007

Whose time zone?!

I swear it is 11:26 pm here.

So the server farm (google) must be in Oregon.

I'm reading A Three Dog Life - memoir recommended by Stephen King. Left 3 other books behind in the bookstore for this one. Delicious.

Amazing how my writing takes so quickly on the tone of my reading. Like speaking to someone from another land, after few drinks. You pick up the accent and seem foolish to those not in on the subconscious joke.

I am also reading:
  • Tipping Point - Malcolm Gladwell
  • Freakanomics - Steven Levitt and Stephen Durbin
  • Dogs Don't Bite When a Growl will Do - some dog people
  • The Woman Who Laughed at God, a History of the Jewish People - Jonathan Kirsch
  • Good to Great - Jim Collins
  • Mindful Knitting - Tara Jon Manning
  • A Woman's Journey to God - Joan Borysenko
  • If the Buddah Got Stuck - Charlotte Kasl

Just finished the last - well, skimmed the ending chapters. Love this writer (Charlotte Kasl) but she is best in small doses. Something like Karen Armstrong, A History of God.

Reading as truffles.

I told my lover tonight of this blogspace. It came back to me as a small regret later. Not that I don't want him here, but as evidence of my struggle to be in a "real" couple again. I gave something up - some privacy perhaps.

I asked him today what he would miss most about living alone. "Walking around naked." he replied easily, once he decided to be really honest. He's such a guy.

I think I'll miss having time to do whatever I want. As in not having any sense of obligation to do anything.

In spite of my whining to myself, being alone was cool, when it happened. Living with three kids didn't give me much true time to just Be. But some.

And maybe I won't so much miss my own time, as the life I had - and this moving in and making a new home is forcing me out of limbo. As long as I didn't unpack I could pretend that I really hadn't moved on without ... without those very large muscle groups.

They moved me constantly, the "big kids" who, after all, aren't so big. They were under foot and skin and sinew. They were - are - taking up large regions of the grey mass that gropes for words tonight.



Bedtime is done

At last.

Now with 2 kids in my personal diaspora I treasure these inane moments even more.

Me: kiss G goodnight after reading in her bed. Not to her but alongside, while she clutches one arm. I comment that I'd like to be able to move that arm. My kiss reeks of wine. She holds her nose.
"I'm off to write with my bad breath."

G: "Wait. You're off right?" (eyes dancing, giggling, knowing she is making a pun and loving making me laugh)

Me: "You aren't allowed to make me laugh like that."

We crack up together.

I am still grieving something Patrick gave up last month. He fell for lacrosse, and I am impaled by his quitting, since there isn't any near his new home.

Lacrosse doesn't exist in the backwoods of Tennessee (go figure).

And I remember giving up on basketball because we had a goal, but no way for me to learn to dribble on grass or the gravel driveway. I didn't think being vertically challenged would stop me. I'd read novels on being good and fast. Of course I was neither.

Swimming was harder to give up. I swam like crazy (and later found out, gracefully) only to lose each and every race. I was good, but slow.

School crowded it out, grades, majorettes, boys as well, I'm sure.

The loss of things I love doing all flooded back when he gave up his dream. Always the pragmatist.

I did get to swim again in college - a single course reminded me that goggles, simple device, let you slip off, meditate as it were, a kind of swimming chi gong.

I think it kept me killing some roommates, especially sweet Paul who dated a screamer. (Actually it was hysterical, quiet Paul, hiding naked in closets so her husband wouldn't know).

tonight I am rife with words.

Whining from the room next door. Sigh. How I miss my kids.

Too good to be true

Online Etymology Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
1638, from Fr. sardonique (16c.), from L. sardonius (but as if from L. *sardonicus) in Sardonius risus, loan-translation of Gk. sardonios (gelos) "of bitter or scornful (laughter)," altered from Homeric sardanios (of uncertain origin) by influence of Sardonios "Sardinian," because the Greeks believed that eating a certain plant they called sardonion (lit. "plant from Sardinia," see Sardinia) caused facial convulsions resembling those of sardonic laughter, usually followed by death. For nuances of usage, see humor.


I exclaimed loudly after Keith almost wrecked the truck last night. "I knew it!" he said, "You're a believer!"

"What?!?" I yelled, gasping for air. "Yeah," realizing I'm still alive "I believe you're a *&^% idiot!!!!"

Gwyneth is with me, reading and laughing, and says I should use a "beep" instead of *&^%.

We are going to read more HP tonight - on the 7th and final installment. Alas, Dobby has just died, and I can completely sympathize with his surprise at being fatally wounded (OOPS! spoiler alert!)

Having just been laid off from my new glizty job, I've gone from serene to pissed off in 72 hours flat - ok, it's more like 80 hours, but who's counting?

G says I can't be stressed when I don't have a job

ps. she adds, "You can't be serious. 'Here lies Vicki, a free elf.'" I'm off to look up sardonic.