Sunday, April 26, 2009

Small Brief Updates

Tonight: Again a sweet foretaste of summer with windows open and music playing in the living room. Do I go with the mood and just open my book or turn on the idiot box and veg out to the drama of working class England on Corrie? I'm so far behind on what's happening on The Street and a hot cup of tea with a McVitie Digestive actually sounds good too.

I'm "intending" per the advice of my friend Lilith. It worked wonders for her, so I am trying it all over the map. The key is to be positive in whatever you intend. Intend to "do" rather than "don't". I'm intending to respect myself, I'm intending to be a strong woman. I'm intending that my intentions are clear. I saw I'm trying it all over the map, but that isn't necessarily true. I'm not sure what I intend in many realms yet, so I have only a few I am working on, mostly about my physical health and, by Jove, I believe it works.

I'm finally reading a good book. I knew it would be. There are some authors you can just count on. Speaking of which, could Kingsolver or Atwood please write a new fiction novel? I'm happy to add Brooks to my list of favorites. I like everything she writes. I'm open to other novel suggestions.

Last night was party to say goodbye to friends from last job. Despite being on the opposite side of the political spectrum from one of them, I think we have become very good friends. I can't stand to hear him talk politics, but I think we'll definitely stay in touch.

The new job: exhausting in every realm. Physically nursing is a demanding job. There's no sleeping or downtime, especially on my unit. I'm impressed with my hospital thus far though-- maybe my unit, but the nurses are smart and good at what they do. I'm emotionally spent from the day. I want to know answers and how to do everything fast, but learning, I remind myself, is a curve. My preceptor, who I thought might not like me, does. She is worried about my Type A side and feels I might have to start saying the serenity prayer before work. She took me walking today at lunch. I am also making friends, which helps so much.

African music on the iPod: Partner leaves in a little over a month to go to Africa for a public health nursing project. I wish I was going. Part of the reason nursing appealed to me was to do outreach just like this. I have been practicing French in a more concerted effort, it will definitely help me to work in areas where I am most interested.

That's enough telegrams from my life. There's no overt narrative there and even I am not particularly fond of the short story genre. I appreciate a tale that I sink into and live in. Snippets aren't my thing and I'm stop them here for now. Snippets and sniping-- thumbs down to both.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Calling All Crossed Fingers

Breakfast on the deck-- Hot tea, scrambled eggs from the farmers market, English muffins. This is the back deck I tried to remind myself all the cold long winter. I could sit for hours on the deck, rocking my chair back to look at my small backyard. I can't wait to plant tomatoes and herbs in the small kitchen garden. I am going relish climbing a ladder and cleaning out gutters. Paint is calling out for Cricket's room-- All this in my future, maybe, if this damn house will ever close and come out of underwriting. Why, oh why, is there always one more document that needs to be handed over? I'm ready to own this tiny house with extraordinarily good energy.

It needs to close this week-- Cross fingers, pray, send out ministrations, make a burnt offering-- I'm ready for some good vibes and good things to happen.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Pragmatics Question

I'm back to a car seat question. Last Friday our super nanny was in a car accident-- I'm happy to report she is fine, just sore in all sorts of places where one does not expect to be sore. She was rear-ended by someone going, she thinks, 30-35 mph, which seems really fast to me. Apparently a paramedic witnessed the whole thing, came right over and told her not to move. She was boarded and collared and spent far far too long on that board in a busy ED, got all the requisite scans and was cleared. Thank God. We love her a lot.

The car, however, is apparently totalled. It struck me as I was listening to her story that I might need to get a new car seat even though no child (another thank God) was in the seat at the time. Her air bags never were deployed and I haven't seen the car. The seat appears to be in good condition....

Does anyone know the answer to this question? Do I need a new car seat? I sorta hope the answer is no because it is sooooo not in the budget right now, but safety is paramount.

Saturday, April 11, 2009


It's a little silly, but I watch this British soap. I have since 1994 when I lived in Dublin. We're far behind the times since I watch it on CBC, and I'm about two months behind even that, with weeks and weeks on the DVR. I'm having a sorta marathon watching it tonight, loving it with a cup of tea and a little toast.

There is a young couple on the soap who has lost their child and I know, I know, it's soap opera, but as I was looking at the tiny coffin I thought about another conversation with a friend earlier today. She was talking about living the moment, something that both of us have a problem doing, but recognize that is what life is, living in the moment. We both manage to do it on occasion with our children, but spend so much time otherwise ruminating. Marinating.

When I stopped living in that moment, I slid. I'm done sliding. I'm counting blessings and thinking about what I want in friends and family. I'm leaving my soul open. I'm counting on Easter.

In the morning when they found the stone rolled back, do you think that one of them was thinking about email or texts or wondering about posts? Or did they look up and notice how the sky was lilac before the dawn, hold each other hands as smell of day came forth, the dank smell of the stone tomb, the oils settled into the rocks, the sheet left behind, the sweet smell-- nothing dead or of death and the sky lightening into pink and orange and the sun coming up over the hill... I hope they were fully in that moment, I hope realization of the miracle crept over them and they weren't thinking of anything else.

Like now, my boy sleeping in the next room, the smell of lavender, the blooming hyacinth, the plugged up sink in the basement, the beauty.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Something Good

Sometimes I hate living in a little Midwestern suburban house, albeit in a quirky city. I think that I should be living in a major metropolitan place. This morning I said to Partner that I could see myself in places: London, Manhattan, or Toronto. "What about Vancouver?" was her rejoinder. "I don't know about Vancouver. I have never been there. I'm limiting myself to places I've been." Because you know, I could very well love living in Rome, as the Facebook quiz suggests I might, but I've never been there. I went on a limb and suggested I could probably hack Barcelona, but my time there was brief. There's something appealing about living next to bright blue sea with mountains ringing the city. Tapas. Red wine...

But there is wine to be had tonight at the weekly gathering of my friends. And now I have the child that has been sick for days curled up under a blanket that I used when in college, its baby blue cuddling him close, sleeping. It's just about warm enough for the door to be cracked open, and the cats are all sleeping in the streaming sun coming through the picture window. I could be anywhere in the world right now and this scene in front of me would be the same: gentle and soft and ephemeral. Soon the boy will wake up. The cats will scatter. The night air will set in, cold and damp and the door will close. And if I was in Barcelona, Roma, London, Manhattan, or Toronto, I wouldn't be going to wine night with the fabulous group of women I get to see tonight. There are other things about Michigan I would miss too... Quite a bit, actually.

When I was in college, my neighbor across the hall and I admitted to each other that some nights even though we were exhausted, we'd go out because we both feared missing something good. That feeling dissipated over time with me, but I think I still hold on to its vestiges. I stay here because I might miss something good. I want to leave because I might be missing something good. If I am always looking for what I might miss, am I missing what's right under my feet, literally? This boy, this moment, the sound of Coltrane and Hartman sifting from the kitchen, the wind blowing away winter, the small domestic symphony of light and dust motes to the percussion of the neighbor boy's basketball thump-thumping...

Tonight, for the rest of the night, is going to be the challenge of living here in this moment, with only myself. No other dreams of what-if, or where-should-I and let the present come over me, scare me with its reality, and make me realize that here I am. And that's powerful enough.