I hate mondays.

In the words of Puss in Boots "I Hate Mondays". Thank goodness this one is almost over, not only does tomorrow bring with it a new day, but a whole new month! Yippee for Feb. and red hearts, chocolate candies and minute longer days every day! I started my day, racing around at 6:30 am getting the kids ready to get out the door for the 30 minute back roads commute to a school that is only 11 miles away. Except I spent 20 minutes franticly searching for my car keys, ripping the house a part. Until I reached into my pocket and there they were!
I Hate Mondays...
Bring on Tuesday!

Oven

A hectic week of kids, work, homework, gray, dreay days has left me here at Saturday. I need a break from homework, I want to roast a chicken. I took her out of the freezer yesterday, so today she is only slightly frozen. I rinse and massage her, pat her dry, pull out the weird shit inside. (This is a big deal to a once vegan), but I have done it often in the last couple of years . I season her , salt,pepper, garlic powder, olive oil and some butter rubbed up under the skin to make her tan and crispy. I squeeze a lemon inside and toss some garlic cloves in there as well. Beautiful, or she will be, if I can get my oven to warm up.
I turned the beast on at least an hour ago, I have kicked it, open and slammed the broiler door open to help ignite the flame, I have sweared at it , threatened it, and even pleaded a bit. "The monsters are growing hungry and restless", I whisper, "they want chicken". I turn the tea kettle back on , and finally I hear the gas ignite again. Time to get on line and fantasize about a shiney new oven, one who will have a constant temperature at all times, what ever temp. I ask for , without attitude or burning or undercooking....

Old Man

Yelling at the people on the other end of the phone, his face so angry and powerful, and then suddenly his face changed as he spoke of his bedridden wife and how he was caring for her, a shake in his voice, his face now soft and powerless. I immedietly felt a lump welling up in  my throat. He must be in his mid 80's and whatever his plight is that has him so upset in the middle of the produce section this early in the morning must be bad. I feel his passion for his situation .I can't help to think of my own elderly parents, who have told me they feel like aliens in their now old and frail bodies. When my mom passes a mirror she says "Who is that Old Lady?", she still feels young and vibrant inside.

Let Gratitute Change your Attitude

These winter days can be so long and dark and dreary. I need my sun, my vitamin D, my Sea Bath!
I've been here in North Idaho for 12 years now, but if I close my eyes I can see, feel, smell, and taste my former residence in the Carribean....
I am floating, almost weightless on back , my legs long and tan stretch out,I still have my tevas on because the coral is sharp,alive and infection accues quickly when one is wounded by it. I can hear my own breath, muffled by light waves crashing and nothing else. The hot sun beats down on my scalp as it is the only thing not totally submerged in the warm (yet cooler than the air), salty, turquoise, clear Carribean Sea that we come to most days for a Sea Bath. The water is sticky, but still much more refreshing than the hot, humid, tropical air. This is my favorite part of any day ever. After a long morning working in one of the organic gardens, a light lunch and some housekeeping, it is too hot right now to weed, plant, water or harvest. So we walk, hitch hike, catch a ride how ever we can and head to the beach. After floating, swimming laps , and playing, I hunt the shore for conch, bright purple,yellow and orange sea fans, and other pieces of colorful dried up, washed up coral pieces for my collection in the garden, and for decorations in my shack (that has no door) . I am in bliss. Life is simple.

Sweet Tooth

My seven year old was just asking me if a sweet tooth ever goes away. Her creative mind than went on to show me her vegetable tooth, her bread tooth, her fruit tooth etc... And I thought about what a great idea for a childrens book she had. It's funny how literal kids are. I guess it is because they don't have the life experience yet to understand sarcasm. I see things more as images (its that art background) more than words in my minds eye. I imagine this story with drawings of a freckle face kid with big awkward new grownup front teeth, opening wide to show everyone her teeth and the story behind each tooth and food group. Well it is just a thought right now.

Rumi

They say January is the saddest month of the year, maybe it is because we have the least amount of daylight. Maybe it is because we are inside- inside our houses, inside our shoes, inside our own minds.

The Music We Are-

Did  you hear that winter's over? The basil
and the carnations cannot control their

laughter. The nightingale, back from his
wandering, has been made singing master

over the birds. The trees reach out their
congratulations. The soul goes dancing

through the king's doorway. Anemones blush
because they have seen the rose naked.

Spring, the only fair judge, walks in the
courtroom, and several December thieves steal

away. Last year's miracles will soon be
forgotten. New creatures whirl in from non-

existence, galaxies scattered around their
feet. Have you met them? Do you hear the

bud of Jesus crooning in the cradle? A single
narcissus flower has been appointed Inspector

of Kingdoms. A feast is set. Listen: the
wind is pouring wine! Love used to hide

inside images: no more! The orchard hangs
out its lanterns. The dead come stumbling by

in shrouds. Nothing can stay bound or be
imprisoned. You say,"End this poem here,

and wait for what's next."I will. Poems
are rough notations for the music we are.

p.134
Rumi-
"The Soul of Rumi- A New Collection of Ecstatic Poems"
Translated by Coleman Barks.

Compost Moose

At least once a day, they arrive. Mama moose and baby. I know they are here because, one of our three dogs knows and alerts the other two. They are HUGE, and wander around , sniffing out the compost, now covered with several layers of warm hay. They rub on the cedar trees , reaching up, stretching their long brown necks to nibble some florescent green lican. I always wonder how something so large can be a vegan? Last year, as I hiked in and out during mudseason with my toddler in the back pack and my than kindergartener in tow, we encountered daily an aggressive  moose, which greatly changed my opinion about the gentle giants, and made me really glad they are vegans!

The smell of real books...

Ok. I think I can get the hang of this. It took me a bit to figure it out, and now I am here.

So I will start with today. Busy day, up at 6 am drive through the mud to bring kids to two different schools. An hour of errants before I head to the library to look for books and do some reading for my 4 other classes. My goodness the library in Sandpoint is always hustling and bustling. It is a hub in our small town. I have always loved the library. The one from my home town in Ct. The one from my first college, built in the 1800's. And now the one in Sandpoint. Times up.I feel a little naked without my kids anyway. Back in the car to two schools, back to my Mom job.
But I checked out a Rumi poetry book today. I can't bring myself to get a kindle just yet. I love the feel and smell of a real book.