i’ve loved ya since i knew ya / wouldn’t talk down to ya

I  should have known a Grays Harbor sporting event would not be a chill occasion. When I walk into the gym a few minutes, behind my son – we’re late for the start of the game – the bleachers are stuffed. The room is a clamor of intense, hostile shouting. For a game of ten year old boys. First game of the season – somehow I forgot how people act.

My daughter and I park at the Wishkah end of the bleachers – by accident, I don’t even think about seating location until a few minutes in. Presently my son’s subbed in and I finally see him in action for this, his very first game. Within a few moments it’s obvious he doesn’t have the ebb and flow of full-court play down, at all. He has learned – in the brief two weeks’ worth of practice they’ve had – to dribble and shoot with confidence. But he doesn’t know the dance, where to be on offense; where to be on defense. I grew up playing and I feel the pull to jump in the game. My feet flex in sympathetic pace with the team’s choreography.

The game is a close one, and a lively one. It is a beautiful thing, watching these children turn into young men on the court. I feel joy in my heart, watching their errors and graces.

A time-out in the third quarter and my boy leaves his team and joins me. His face is flushed and shamed: his deportment hurts my heart. He turns his body on the bleacher against my warmth, tells me, quietly – “Mom, I can’t play. I don’t know how to play.”

I’m thinking two things, They should be teaching you that, and then: But this is how you learn.

But I’m silent in this moment, this beat – showing that restraint. I’m amazed at how much my son is growing up, how keenly he understands his inadequacies. Of course, he isn’t the only one still learning. Many boys out there have double-dribbled, performed traveling screens, fouled in all sorts of ways. One young man made two deft attempts at a basket for the other team before they all sorted it out.

But now: I tell Nels, “You don’t have to go back in, but you need to sit down there and support your team and coach.” I lean forward and return my attention to the game. For a bit he huddles against me, his hot little body in repose. In a moment he feels better, and returns to sit by his coach, and support his boys.

Our team catches up in a tense fourth quarter. The game goes to overtime. In those final minutes, I see the coach ask Nels if he wants back in – Yes, he does. He steals the ball. He goes for it. He gets back in the game. They win by two. I can see in his heart, in his face: he’s okay.

Despite the angry hubbub during the event, everyone is smiles. I talk to a few parents; give a hug to a friend I hadn’t seen. Nels is hungry – adamant he needs a burger.

We walk out into the late evening’s sunshine. “I’m proud of you,” I tell him.

***

Later in the car we four are traveling back from errands in Olympia; in the CD player a mixtape. The strains of The Police’s “Roxanne” edge into our space, providing tempo to the rain outside, which is not so much hostile as it is lonely, and spooky.

We’re all silent for a bit, and I don’t know what the other three are thinking. But I’m thinking: This song is musically Perfect.

I turn to my husband. “You know this joker doesn’t even have a job,” I say, of the plaintive vocalist. 

He nods.

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

something beautiful that [I] can find

Today was my 38th birthday. I took a picture first thing: before shower, before makeup, before dressing – before my first cup of coffee, even. 

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

I had a wonderful day out with family and friends. I woke to a few gifts in the post – a large parcel of treats, and a package of yummy socks. My good friend E. picked me up and we headed to Olympia for this and that. While there, Nels and I each got a haircut – he made quite a change!

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

We shopped, ate food, picked up a few things, and headed back to town to reunite with the family.

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

 After we got into town, I ran off to the yoga studio and sweated it up pretty profusely on the mat – nursing my injured shoulder all the while, of course.

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

 Dinner at the local Rediviva – where the chef made me something special. More flowers, and a few moments with friends and my mother.

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

 My mom made a homemade cake – a white cake with fresh berries. She made separate cupcakes for the restaurant workers too. Because that’s how she rolls.

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

 I don’t have a picture of this – but Ralph found and paid a violinist to serenade me with “Happy Birthday”. Every year my husband finds a way to surprise me, and every time it’s something very special. It occurs to me now that he is providing a wonderful example for our children. I hope I am doing the same.

My 38th Birthday: February 11, 2015

 Home again – finally – and I snap a picture of Phoenix, who researched how to tie a sarong, so she could dress up for me this evening. Of all the wonderful, amazing gestures and gifts today this was the most unexpected. She is a lovely lass and as you can see – I am very grateful.

 Flowers from a friend, flowers from my husband, gifts in the post: chocolate and clothing and candy and sweets.

My house is full of gifts, and warmth.

My body, tired from this evening’s yoga. My cough is a bit deeper and I look forward to rest.

I am, as always, quite grateful for the love I receive on my birthday. The loving generosity of family and friends is always humbling, and always wonderful.

Namaste.

 

Nels' meme, tonight

a niche in the eaves

[ my son makes memes. like no one’s business. ]

Nels' meme, tonight

 

Fall seems to be an incredibly creative time of year for me, and others in my life notice. I get a lot of compliments on my purple hair. In fact in Grays Harbor I’ve heard nothing but compliments. Children are the most openly admiring.  But not a day goes by grownups don’t say a few nice things as well. Women tend to compliment; men say something flirty and sometimes even touch me without permission (boo).

But in the car on our way to deliver a pie, my daughter tells me I look gorgeous. It’s pretty wonderful to be loved the way they love me. I know I’m one of my children’s heroes. I know they think I am beautiful and amazing. It’s quite humbling. It makes me feel less self-conscious and it sets a place for me in the world.

Just before I leave for my volunteer concierge shift at the Gallery I hear the stomping of feet and sense that kind of bundled-up energy children bring in the new rains. Wrapping myself in my scarf I step into the kitchen and I shit thee not, seven “extra” kids in my house, all boys. All rowdy, but completely obliging to my eldest child’s commands (wash hands, set the table, et cetera). All of them there for a fête Nels has planned: the celebration of Harris’ birthday. My son has made tea and set out cups and made cards. The children all sing the cat “Happy Birthday”. Phoenix kicks them out after I leave; we have a whitelist of children allowed inside while Ralph and I are gone.

Today in the kitchen: steakhouse bread (sort of like pumpernickel but without caraway, and made up WITH eggs and coffee), two layered chocolate and roasted coconut cream pies with Mexican vanilla. Then a soup the kids cook up while Ralph’s in Olympia: ham, chickpeas, spinach noodles, and fresh peas. Cherry tomatoes on the side and a big glass of milk for each kiddo. They eat sitting with me in my sewing room while I hum through one hundred and sixty-five half-square triangles on my old Singer.

Quilting and gallery sitting, and a few minutes talking with friends. It rained today but I thought ahead and I have proper raingear for the season – boots and coat anyway – and I’ve got proper raingear for the kids too. Food security, and clothing security, and shelter. A fortunate family.

Home now and it’s late; four cats slumber in four chairs. The house is full of the smell of baked bread and the flickering of candles.

 

 

 

satisfaction

Today: a trip into Olympia, a new hair color (purple! “Pimpin’ Purple” to be exact. Yeah YOU HEARD), pho at Little Danang, an IRL meetup with Jen, friend and blogreader as well as her wonderful boy T. (squee!), a visit to The Danger Room, a new t-shirt (Henry Rollins + Glenn Danzig, Yeah YOU HEARD), Olympia Coffee Roasting Company, some Recovery, and then grilled sandwiches at the cabin whilst watching copious amounts of Animal Planet.

I notice Shelton has a different culture than Hoquiam and Aberdeen, even though one might guess it would be similar. I got harassed by two men re: my new purple hair, on separate occasions, and I was only on the street a few minutes. I’m pretty tough re: blue collar scene but not used to the Mason County wildlife, I guess.

Ralph has come down with the cold that nuisanced the kids and I last week. He’s coughy and stuff.  Let’s hope he rests and feels better soon.

as I type this my dog thinks any minute now I’m going to do something super-cool

I took too much medicine last night & ended up throwing up lots. My poor son was still up when I threw up and he cried because he was frightened, even though I assured him afterwards. Then I couldn’t sleep, likely as a result of the meds and then too much strong coffee in the evening.

What’s worse than all that is I gave myself a really, really hard time about making these mistakes. I can’t always stop the mental negativity, the thoughts punish me and crowd me and yes, I know it’s terribly self-absorbed. The good news is I don’t do it as much or as often; and I am kinder to others very frequently, if I have not learned the art when it comes to my own self.

Tonight as Ralph, Emily, Phoenix and I drove to Olympia, my daughter identified weather on the horizon: “That’s a cumulonimbus cloud… we’re heading into a thunderstorm.” I said, “How can you tell?” (I mean I remember being forced to learn about clouds in school, and promply forgetting everything except for a few names.) She said, “The cloud has the classic anvil shape, and look at the color of the sky.” And then the holy shit of it all was she was right, as only an hour later we’d driven into what quickly became the most intense lightning storm I’ve ever been in, in my life in the Pacific Northwest. Huge drops of warm rain and a sky like a bruise and visible cloud-to-ground lightning accompanied with the loudest BOOMS and fire sirens and we drove past a tree that had been sheared.

It was thrilling. Thanks to the horrible nature documentaries my kids watch, I knew we were safe in the car. But I was still happy to get home and inside my little hidey-house.

Lightning Storm

In other news: Hutch had his first vet appointment. He’s down from 120 lbs. on June 27th to 111 lbs. today. I’m proud of getting him healthier and more comfortable. It’s been a lot of great fun, but a lot of work!

 

last thursday

was First Thursday in Hoquiam. My kids had a lemonade stand which did well.

Phoenix & Nels' Lemonade Stand

Ralph built the stand. I designed the sign, and my mom painted it. The letters are executed perfectly, I just couldn’t get a good shot.

Sign; Designed By Moi, Painted By My Mom

Phoenix & Nels' Lemonade Stand

The Brothers Jim From Olympia, WA

The Brothers Jim, from Olympia.

Phoenix & Nels' Lemonade Stand

Nels wore his toque well into the night.

After A Hard Days' Napping

Josie held down the fort at home. She was exhausted.

Really Pooped Out

EXTREME

*grows extra tits to breastfeed EVERYONE, then does some sick BASE jumping*

Homeschool Swim. @stuffnelssays In The Cat-Bird Seat

Today after Homeschool Swim I spent a good part of my day taking a community elder somewhere he needed to be. He has limited funds and transportation and we treated him to dinner as well. Originally I’d planned on taking the trip without the kids, but it turned out the kids needed to come along. It was a good trip but somehow on the drive back I was on my last nerve.

Anyway. A few pics.

Olympia:

Vanilla Salted Caramel Creamcheese At Bonjour Cupcakes In Olympia

A cupcake shop. A CUPCAKE SHOP. Yes, this is a real thing. Yes, it’s just a wonderful thing. My kids were so pleased. Between that, and the “beautiful”/”amazing” Westgate mall, and a large squirrel, and a playground, they were super-happy. Everyone should be this easy to please.

Playground In Oly

Playground & sunshine & weird Gollum-like mouth-expressions.

Today: Time magazine aired a magazine cover with an incredibly annoying headline and tagline – while purporting a premise I feel entirely skeptical about (i.e. a supposed fair and balanced discussion of “attachment parenting”, perhaps not so fair and balanced considering the cover frames it as as “exteme” and in the most mommy-warmongering manner).

ATTACHMENT PARENTING – SO EXTREME!!!11!

EXTREME

Anyway, Arwyn from Raising Boychick had already been musing this “AP=anti-feminist” argument a while back before said polemic cover asploded onto the internet, and I’m honored my online comments were included in her post, since she’s got her shit together when it comes to anti-oppression work.

This mama’s a bit cranky. Time for some snuggling and B-movie time with the husband.

like a love song, baby

Ladies

If you got to choose, which woman would you like to suddenly observe, standing twenty feet away in the fabric store, stroking her “moustache” and eyeing you pervily? I say either way You Win.

By the way the three “grownups” accompanying me and the children today, after our lunch, also used their hard-won cash to purchase… pop guns, rubberband guns, and whoopee cushions. Then they gave these items to my kids and it wasn’t just the children who made liberal use of all of them while I was trying to navigate my mom’s electronically-plagued minivan through dense-as-MILK highway fog and aggressive and/or drunk holiday drivers.

So basically, I had a great, fabulous, wonderful roadtrip today.

Oh, and I bought four yards of two wonderful yardages of fabric and two fly zippers for two pair of pants, and one treat item for each child, for a total of $17, due to my laughably large bundle of coupons.

Aberdeen, Phoenix Singing

In Aberdeen, after dropping friends off. We’re stopped for a short train. I wish I could capture the colors, how beautiful it is here on a winter’s night. And my daughter, how fabulous she is. She won’t sing when I point the camera at her, not that you could see it anyway. I like I caught a glimpse of her smile at least.

a little bit hopeful / a little bit cold

Scenes from a tender, kid-friendly (and how!), environmentally-conscious, Bahá’í wedding:

Women

Casual

Sculpture

Vows

Ruby Beach

A walk in Hoquiam whereby we saw the Saddest Garage Sale Sign Ever, and met Mustache Cat:

Yes. It Is Closed.

Mustache Cat!

Salsa De Aciete

A trip to Olympia with Nels; a bit of shopping, a shared meal, lots of walking, and a visit with friends:

Nels Wants This Feather Boa

Nels @ The Iron Rabbit, Olympia

I feel so incredibly fortunate not only to have Ralph an extra day of the week (he’s adjusted his work schedule for t he summer), but to enjoy this life more than I have previously. I no longer want to live as a walking dead, always plotting or scheming or planning or holding grudges or resentments or worries or – and this is the hardest one for me – fears. (So many Fears!).

I had a really hard day two days ago but I knew what I had to do, and I did it, and the next day was far better, and today was lovely – and serene.

Finally: today’s cat bullshittery. I wish I had the picture of when I tried to give the fourth (and not-pictured) cat, Harris, a light shower, just real quick (there was a reason, for reals!). Regardless to say he Kicked My Ass. No, he didn’t scratch me, but managed to knock me over and splash me with a quart of water off his filthy back. I technically accomplished my goal but he humiliated me. Here are some other Cat Moments:

Josie

“My coat is soft and lush. No you cannot touch it, Hardly Ever.”

Hamilton

IMPORTANT SLEEPINZ

Mable

Lonely Cat Iz Lonely for Lurve (Yes, she got it.)

Today? Was a Good Day.

Not Sure If They

desperate housewife

So I got stuck in Olympia with the kids at a late hour. Don’t ask me to tell you why or how, it’s a dull and yet painful story. I thought we’d have to stay (overnight or at least a long long time) and I was kind of panicked. I called people we knew in Oly but couldn’t get a ride. I kind of agonized and wondered around and bought things at Target and got the kids food while I went totally Flyhead about my predicament and couldn’t think straight. Let me tell you, those who know me probably perceive me as level-headed in person most the time, even when things are intense or when people around me are falling apart, but when it’s down to just me and the kids are involved in some way that seems unsafe or weird there can become a point where I get Crazy-Eye and my brain stutters and shudders. I’m surprised I wasn’t arrested on suspicion of shoplifting, I mean I was twitchy as hell checking out (with, I’ll point out, a credit card I wasn’t entirely sure would go through). Kids and I ended up boarding the last bus downtown because, where Target is, there’s nothing there you’d want to spend time with.

Lakefair downtown, things were a bit intense. The bus flew down the hill and I perceived the wondrous lights of a large carnival (large by my bumpkin standards anyway) so I knew where to take the three of us, for the Now anyway. I had only a few dollars cash – otherwise I would have dropped my rent money on two bracelets so they could go on every ride they qualified for. As it was they still had fun; watching a breakdance group and running about while I phoned some more. I sat by the lakeside vicariously enjoying their fierce little lives.

After finally getting ahold of Ralph and arranging a meetup I had enough cash for one carnival “ride” for the kids. Understand this was like, seven dollars I think, for the kids to go in this kiddo funhouse (their choice). The local who’d been hired on was amiable enough to conversation, or was rather a captive audience, to be more accurate. Turns out he’s a musician and living like a sardine can in a rental with others, trying to get by, thinking about going to school, not sure what he’ll do next week for employment. We talked music for some time and my feelers went up, as Ralph is still trying to get connected with Oly musicians and the fellow sounded talented or at least versed in many interesting instruments.

The kids played and played (bless this young man for not being a dick) but soon it was time to go. I sat my bundles of Target Fuckery and a McDonalds bag and my purse and whatever in the grass, and took out my card and wrote down my husband’s name and circled a number and wrote “Music / Helsing” (the latter re: the K Records festival each year). By this time two huffy carnival pros – that is, the fellows who travel with the outfit, not spareboard – were all over the young fellow and hustling him to close up. One of them was yelling into a walkie talkie, “I have some real important stuff going on,” and then proceeded to shout-command the young man in a brusque and not-entirely-thorough way. And shit, I get it, these people work hard, I’ve worked in that kind of scene, so I just slipped the card into the young man’s pocket (unobtrusively enough, or so I thought) and said, “Good luck,” (meaning, with everything) and then –

the guy who’d been yelling into the walkie talkie jerked his head at me and said, “Jesus,” with all the disgust you can manage mustered in a voice. I seriously wish you could have heard it. You’d think I’d taken a shit on the green. I am not sure what he meant but, I haven’t been addressed with that much vitriol and hate for quite some time. It was pretty busy and I had no immediate response to being perceived as A Piece Of Shit For Reasons Mysterious so I merely bundled up the kids and the bags and gently floated across the grass, trailing the final partiers fleeing off to bars (Oly was rowdy tonight, for reals).

Our rendezvous was with Ralph was scheduled for Sizizis (which, I found out, is closing down Sunday – boo!). Walking up 4th it was so many people and shouting and cutting eyes and the smell of booze and cigarettes and weed and all kinds of amorous behavior and fights and weird energy. And yes. A few people who returned my smile. The kids were great, of course, because they are tiger cubs running on sidewalks. We got to our coffee shop eventually (it really was a nice night for a walk). While I waited in line for my drink the kids got something cold from the cooler, grabbed a table, and set up chess. I stared a bit and wondered where they’d learned to play. I was feeling more collected, or so I thought. So I’m standing there and an amiable large man turns around and says to me, “Hey, do you remember the name of the boat from Moby Dick?” and I respond, “Uh, the Minnow… the S.S. Minnow.” then to my horror I realize my mistake and shout, “No! The Pequod!”

Oh good sweet baby Jesus in his golden fleece diapers.

At about 11:40 PM Ralph rescued me and I gave him the americano I’d purchased him and I got my ass out of Dodge. –

but, the kids had a glorious time.

Not Sure If They're Having Fun