Happy New Year!

Anne and cousin J.

Me and my cousin again. I think I look ok there (yes, I know my hair is less than fashionable, and this photo is ten months old), but presently I am pretty much the model for that stone fertility goddess that one sees in museums - all curves in mostly the wrong places. I would fit nicely into someone's hand if I was six inches tall, but I'm about five feet, three inches too tall for that. The blame is on my malfunctioning knee at the moment - surgery next month - but just because I can't bounce/climb/run around doesn't mean I need to eat as though food was going out of style. Meh.

I wish I could just be me all the time. Me. Anne.

On that note, happy new year to all of you - so many who have helped me through the year. I can't name names, but thank you. I am mostly flailing, so hands up are so very much welcomed. I know I am frustrating in my slow action, or seeming lack of action. Everyone is different, though. Everyone has gone through life under different conditions, and I'm guessing that I'm doing ok under mine. Not great, certainly, but ok. I'm learning. Thank you. Thank you all.

Hip hop happy new year!

love,

anne

My favorite animal at the zoo....

Otocolobus manul,

Pallas' cat

(image via Google)

These guys are native to the high steppes, mountains, and deserts of central Asia and are an endangered species. The Columbus Zoo has three on display - they're like little grey barrels of tufty fur. I've only seen them in books, so it was a treat to see them up close and personal. Two were sleeping; a third was very active, spending much of its time standing at about shoulder height on a branch right in front of the glass. It was awesome.

Speaking of awesome - I love the Columbus Zoo. I've been going there since I was a mere bump in my mother's belly - it was one of the few cheap outings (then, anyhow) that a college couple could take. I just love it there, and they've made some fantastic changes over the years. The Pallas' cats were in their Asia Quest area: http://www.colszoo.org/animalareas/carnivr/index.html

Things are a little wobbly here at home right now. My father is beginning to be moody, which is often the beginning of the end. I wish I could visit just once without this happening.

Growl. What fun, to leave one moody, angry male to go home to another! Now that's MY idea of a good time. Indeed. There must be some truth to that on some twisted level. This year is the year to change what I can, to try to follow this credo:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. "

The serenity prayer makes a lot of sense.

*************************************

Thank you to Sher and Lu for your encouraging words. Lu, you always get right to the heart of the matter - I will be taking your words very much to heart.

Over and out for now... I'll probably post once more before the new year shows its face.

Ta!

p.s. I managed - in my own inimitable way - to jolly my dad out of his mood. It's a skill I wish I didn't have, but I suppose it's a survival skill. I'm glad - I love him very much and I don't want our last day together to be marred by anger.

More later....

Better now....

...a little bit. I'm trying to have a good attitude about what sort of mess I'm going home to (did I pay a bill late? did he read something I wrote that he shouldn't have read? what? what did I do?), but it's tough. My reaction comes from a lifetime of trying to predict what the man in my life is angry about this time - and how can I make it better, how can I soothe him, or at least minimize damage to myself? How can I become invisible? My last relationship was not like this the vast majority of the time, so I did have several years wherein I wasn't anxious all the time. However, living in an anxiety-inducing environment for my first twenty years or so - and on many occasions after that - is a very, very difficult thing to overcome. When I'm in this mode, it's difficult to concentrate on anything, and nearly impossible to enjoy the moment. It angers me that he knows this - he knows I can't call him, he knows I only have these few days with my parents, and he knows I'll drive 12 hours wondering what awaits me, more nervous with each mile. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he's so wrapped up in whatever has him angry this time that he doesn't even consider me. Either way, it's a pretty bad deal. There's an outside chance that he simply had a bad day and wasn't looking forward to the drive down to his sister's place. I doubt it, though. ARGH. Do you see what goes through my head? It's crazy, completely crazy. Thoughts chasing worries chasing more worries chasing more thoughts until my head is full of a frenzied foam of fear and dread. It's no way to live, and I know that. I don't want to live this way anymore. It's enough that I lived this way growing up, isn't it? Gah. I do intend to change. I do intend to make changes happen. That is my wish for the new year - peace, clarity, strength, and the guts to move forward, where ever that path will take me. We're going to the zoo today, and I'm going to enjoy myself. Over and out for now. Say some prayers or think some good thoughts for me if you are so inclined. I'll be ok. Thank you for listening.

Another drive-by

Ok, who would put a murderous half-size doll into the backseat of their car late at night, in the rain, all alone? Hmm. Let's mull this over. Perhaps.... Chucky's next victim?! (horror music plays) Yes, that's right. I've been watching cheesy television. Things are still going well here. I've half a mind to move back. I miss my parents, I love their animals, the house is lovely, and I am behaving like my old self... which is to say silly and unencumbered. I called home tonight to say hi to M. and to wish him a happy weekend - he's going away with a bunch of guys (brother, brother-in-law, etc) to an out of town football game. He's not a fan, but it's a chance to have fun, hang out. He talked to me for less than two minutes. He was cold and abrupt. Which tells me I'm going home to some sort of issue. I have no idea what it is, but I'm sure it won't be good. I am so very, very tired of this. I am so tired of living with anger I just want to cry. Or perhaps jump off a cliff. Gentleness? Tenderness? Naught. If you sense a bit of bitterness, you're right on. My choices, I know. Back to cheesy television. And a fuzzy black cat who seems to love me. Ta.

Drive-by posting

Me, my cousin J., my brother B., and my cousin K.

Hey there! The above is a photo I took off of my parents' computer... it was taken in February at my Uncle Jack's memorial service. The four of us pretty much grew up together. Our lives are all so very different now. That fact and a story about my uncle are forthcoming. Regardless, it was great to be all together, even on such a sad occasion. I am home now - well, Ohio, which will always feel like home even if it really isn't. I spent most of the day helping my parents inventory their office. I was aggravated about the whole deal at first, but I got over my selfish desire to loll about the house watching bad television pretty quickly. Things are going along nicely. This isn't something that is guaranteed when I come home, so it's been a relief. Thus far my dad has been on an even keel, though that can change in an instant. I'm having a good time. I made a too-complicated dinner last night, so tonight we're having leftovers. My dad is insisting upon making last night's soup the sauce for tonight's pasta. I don't really want that, but he does and so it goes. Small quibble - I'll take it! The soup, by the way, can be found at http://westeringhills.weblogged.net/ - Dec. 22, the Thai-spiced soup. I used green curry paste instead, which is evidently a bit hotter than the red. I overdid the currying a bit, but it was still a very good soup even though it made everyone's nose run. Tonight we exchange Christmas gifts and then I'll be up late watching something cheesy on the boob tube. I have no tv at home, so I become greedy with television when I have access to it - all the more reason not to have it at home, really. Well, that's it for now. I'll check back in later. Best to all. Ta.

p.s. I almost didn't post the photo - I look old and fat and tired. However, I'm trying to dispense with foolishness in my life... so there I am!

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

Sunset over Farm Kitchen, WA

Whatever you celebrate and however you celebrate, I'd like to wish you all very happy, safe, relaxing holidays. I'll check back in sometime next week.

An aside with no picture

Also: an aside with no real point, other than to put it out there. I just wanted to say that my best local friend - and one of my best friends in the world - is my cat Shelby. I have never really talked much about her on any of my blogs. I think that's because she is such a part of the fabric of my life that it doesn't occur to me. Also, in the interest of being open and honest, I sometimes worry about what people will think when I regularly profess my love for my cat. That worry is one of the needless layers I wear that I need to be rid of. I'm not saying I need to assault people with my Shelby-love, but there's nothing illigitimate or bad about loving a cat. She is always there for me. I realize that she doesn't really have a choice in the matter, but the fact remains that she is there for me, and she loves me. She insists upon being picked up and held at least twice a day - once before I leave for work, once when I get home - but she's open to being held at other times. She gives hugs - she puts her little cat arms around my neck, squeezes her eyes shut, and purrs. She doesn't mind that I constantly kiss her fuzzy face and furry body, nor that I sometimes put antlers on her head or otherwise tease her (well, she minds, but she's a champ about the whole thing). She has been with me since before my first marriage, and now into my second flailing attempt. She has been a constant in my life. She still plays like a kitten, though she's now ten years old. I love watching her race around; I love to engage her and see her pupils dilate when she's excited and ready to pounce. I already dread the time when she is no longer with me. I love her so much, it hurts. Sometimes I think I pour all the love I have into this cat because I don't trust anyone else with it. It's going to be a very bad day indeed when she is gone from my life. I hate seeing her eyes take on that bronzy look that older cat's eyes have. She's still my baby. I just wanted you who read to know. I will post pictures of her soon. Ta. p.s. This was written in response to someone I read who just lost her cat: http://datinggod.typepad.com/datinggod/ (Dec. 18, 2006). I haven't asked her if I could link - though I will - but her story of loss really made me think about my girl. Please feel free to give your condolences to Booty's mom.

Sustenance on my journey

The road less traveled?

Last night, I was doing some last-moment shopping at Barnes and Noble (dangerous ground for me - I could live in a bookstore and never come out again). I had gotten the item I wanted, a CD, and was resolutely headed out the door, determined not to be snagged by any of the zillions of delicious books. Alas, it was not to be. I was walking down the aisle, not really thinking or paying attention, when almost of its own volition my hand grabbed up a book on one of the table displays (note to Shannon: it was Lefty; apparently, she wants to go on this journey too. Fred had nothing to say in the matter). The book was "Dance of the Dissident Daughter," by Sue Monk Kidd. I opened it up and started reading without even looking to see what the book was about. As it turned out, this book was just about perfect for where I am in life right now. It's the story of the author's awakening to the patriarchal mores in this life - and her journey both intellectually and spiritually to being reborn as a woman, to use somewhat cliched language. I can't say enough good about it, or how it really hit home with me. I didn't buy it (yet), but I stood there and read it for a good 15 minutes. So much of what she said felt so familiar to me, so true; reading some of the passages brought tears to my eyes. The fact that I simply plucked it up off the table not knowing what it was feels like more than serendipity, though I don't know what I'd call it. In the past several years, I've started to reclaim who I am, who I could or should be, as a human being and as a woman. As I've alluded in some of the below posts, I've been on a stumbling detour for some time now; I'd lost my way. I am beginning to find my way back. It's not a fast process - it's more of a slow and often tentative unfolding, rediscovery, something like that. I've been reading a lot of feminist literature both online and off, and a lot of stuff about racism and homophobia too. I've always been aware in one way or another that many forms of oppression exist, but it all seems to be coming into clearer focus at this point in my life. The author was about my age when she started on her path - so maybe it's somewhat a function of age. Also, like the author, I was steeped in Christianity for much of my life; my parents remain of the evangelical breed of Christian. I consider myself a Christian, but I've been uncomfortable with my beliefs for some time now. I haven't been willing to explore why or how (too taxing! too hurtful!), but the thought that I must find some clarity in my beliefs has been like a burr in my brain for a very long time. I think now is the time to begin delving into these issues - my feelings about God, about gender relations, about oppression, about being female. About being me, without kowtowing to the males in my life and also without becoming narcissistic. Clarity with grace is what I seek - survival with joy. The ability to strip away the layers with honesty. The sort of transformation I speak of has a tendency to be painful; sometimes being honest with oneself is the most difficult thing of all. I want it, though. I want it very badly. ***************************** This post feels unfinished and inelegant, but I wanted to get it out there. The polish will come with time. Until later, ta.

Monday, again!

Sprucehead Island, ME

So we have arrived once again at Monday. Per usual, I have nothing of note to say right now, but I hope to say something - if not of note, at least of substance - later.

Right now, I'm working on editing a 16 page report that my boss spent all of Saturday writing; it has to do with organic pest controls and fruit thinning in a variety of apple cultivars. He has to send it out by two today, so I have to focus on that right now.

One thing I should mention is that I have been slowly realizing, over the past few weeks, that I have power in my relationship with M. (I don't think I've mentioned him yet in this blog - M. is my significant other). Since we came to NY - and a bit before that - I started to cede my power to him, until he pretty much had all of it. This isn't a good thing for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that he can be very, very mean; cruel, even, and ferociously angry. I have allowed myself to be cowed down to a scared fourteen-year-old, back into the shoes I wore when my dad was that person I feared. It's as though the intervening years have been erased in some ways; my reactions and my curling inward and my feelings of burning - and ineffectual - fury and accompanying trepidation returned in full force. It hasn't been a very good situation. Lately, though, I have reached a point wherein I cannot go any further down that road. I just can't. I have started to stand up for myself. I have started looking at M. with old eyes, with resolution, when he begins to be how he can sometimes be. And that scares him. I didn't realize this right away - only gradually. I am beginning to step back into who I can be, when I have the presence of mind. I have power. Not a lot, not yet - but it's there. It is there.

Until later, ta.

p.s. in the above photo, I paddled in my dear kayak out beyond those islands you see in the distance, on the horizon. it was a long and lovely paddle, wherein I saw a bald eagle, harbor seals, and a great variety of sea birds. it was fantastic!

Go forth and have happy weekends!

I'm going to try. Apologies for the earlier whinefest. Until Monday, ta!

Friday.

Rosa rugosa on the Atlantic coast

I posted this photo on the old blog but I like it so much I'm putting it here, too.

So - hello. Apparently, it's almost the weekend. I find myself unmoved by this fact. Perhaps if I was going to have the weekend to myself, I would be happier. Instead, it's yet another holiday event with the in-laws. Feh. It's not that they're bad people, it's just too much. I miss my own family dearly. The in-laws don't really "get" me, mostly. I'm not girly enough, I don't care a whit about fashion, and my opinions seem strange and foreign to them more often than not. I get too emotional over animals, and our senses of humor don't jibe at all. The entire family has more of a whoopee cushion/12 year old boy sense of humor - Monty Python has no place in their repertoire. Ah, well. Enough with the grumping and groaning. What kind of an attitude is that, anyway? I'm the one acting like a 12 year old, here... I feel like I used to feel when forced to go to my grandparents for the holidays - whiny and petulant. Not attractive, not attractive at all!

Moving on.

I don't have much to say, most likely because of my foot-draggingly negative attitude. I feel like going for a run to work it all out, but because my knee has betrayed me, I cannot. Alternately, I would like to drink a glass of wine or seven but that's not really the most brilliant idea and certainly won't do a thing to fix what ails me. Garrummph. Mayhap I'll settle for a walk in the misty rain. I need to get outside anyway - I've been working with liquid lime-sulfur in the lab and I now have a headache clamped around the back of my head like a bionic starfish. Man, that stuff is stinky and fumey.

Well, I guess that's all I've got right now. Quite pathetic.

**********************

random fact for the day: I am very fond of coriander, but I don't really like cilantro.

today, I am grateful for: cold water and jade plants.

Full-on sparrow fight

Because I am blogging about trivialities, I must mention the throw-down that just occurred in my office window feeder. Not unexpected, of course, because I have sparrow ruffians as regulars. A female house sparrow (Passer domesticus) was sitting IN the feeder, alternately hanging out and wildly stabbing at the food she was sitting on. Stab, fling shells, sit. Sit. Sit. Look around. Peck. Fling shells. Along came another female sparrow and WALLAH - Clash of the Very Small! Tiny feet engaged other tiny feet, and I think bellies were involved. There was a brief air battle, and then peace. Now the feeder is empty, though there is a male house sparrow contemplating entry. Ok, then. I know this is interesting only to me. Perhaps I'll say something of note tomorrow. Ta.

Lunch of Champions

Pickles, bread, and hot sauce. And a side of cold water. Yes, really.

Distraction: dog and cat

Abby Cat and Casey Dog

Those are my parents' critters. I haven't met Abigail yet (in two weeks, I will!), but I'm old friends with Casey. Aren't they cute?

I'm pH meter wrangling at the moment, and the pH meters have me in a headlock. It's much less fun than it sounds. Argh.

Carry on.

I don't talk politics here, but....

...I heard a clip on NPR this morning about South Dakota Senator Tim Johnson. He may have had a stroke yesterday during a teleconference with reporters. They played the bit where his speech became first confused and then senseless - as a lethal bloom of ischemia or hemorrhage flowered in his brain. The man underwent surgery late yesterday and is listed in critical condition now. I can imagine how his friends, family, his staff, all must be feeling - shocked and scared. I can't imagine how he must have felt - how cognizant was he of what was happening? Did it hurt? Is his whole life changed now? Will he survive and recover? Was he frightened? I am not from South Dakota, and until today had never heard of Sen. Tim Johnson. However, the commentary following that sad recording of his medical emergency was this: Will the Republicans now take control of the Senate? What will become of the Democrats' tenuous hold on Senatorial power? Horrors! Politics, handwringing, politics, moaning, politics. Not one thing about how this man's life has changed. Not one word about how his wife, who rode to the hospital with him, must feel. It made my stomach roil. I think what bothered me most is that they would play to voyeuristic millions what for him was probably a terrifying moment, almost intimate in its bewildered fumbling.... and then follow up with hateful political scrambling and no mention that this is a human being suffering. There are equally tragic things happening in the world every day, situations and instances more awful. However, what I heard on the radio this morning for some reason put its finger right on the pulse of why the misanthropic streak in my heart and mind is as wide and deep as it is. People can be so disappointing. And that's an understatement of grand proportions. ********************************** More later, possibly on a lighter note. Until later, ta.

A repeat from the Blogge of Olde

I have to link to this again because I love it so very much: http://www.astateof.com/films/delicious/ Really, I had to. Merely thinking about this film gives me the giggles; watching it makes me laugh until tears are rolling down my face. As I believe I said before, also check out the other films. Fantastic.

Tyoosday

Sorbus americana, Sprucehead Island, ME

Greetings! Last night, I turned on NPR partway through a story about a singer. I hadn't heard the front half of the piece, so I didn't know who they were talking about. I listened to the music and I liked it - what a familiar voice! You know... he sounds just like Cat Stevens. It's amazing! I could swear this is Cat Stevens. The artist turned out to be.... (wait for it) Yusef Islam. Yep - Cat Stevens. Kind of a boring anecdote, but it made me smile at the time. I grew up on his music - him, Simon & Garfunkle, John Denver, The Carpenters, Peter, Paul & Mary. I have great fondness for all of these artists because they are the music of my early childhood, when my dad was still in college. I loved the song "Peace Train" best of all; I even like the 10,000 Maniacs remake of it, though not as well as the original. Moving on. I am still at a loss for what to write about.... or, more to the point, how to write about it without revealing too much. After all, I don't want a repeat performance wherein I have the sudden, pressing need to delete the whole blog. That kind of sucked. I guess I'll ponder the new reality further... and dive into the more personal stuff sometime later. Meanwhile, more about the delicious trifles of my life! Whee! Tonight is the final exam. No, I still haven't studied for it. Ostensibly, I came in to work early to do a bit of studying, but in my usual fashion I checked email and read blogs instead. Oh yes, I am a master of procrastination. I do believe I am the premier practitioner of it at least in the state of NY, if not the entire eastern seaboard. So... it will be lunchtime and post-work studying for me. It's worked well enough for the past two exams - why change a successful formula? Indeed. Ho hum. Well, best get to work. Today is Botrytis Day! Actually, tomorrow is too. Ah, fungus. Who doesn't love it? ********************************** random fact for the day: There is a (sadly) empty pickle jar on my desk. today, I am grateful for: hot coffee and English sparrows. Ta for now.

Monday, Monday....

Rosa rugosa, Sprucehead Island, ME

Good morning, all and none. Why is it that I have such grand and sweeping posts clouding my mind like great swarms of bees.... whenever I am away from the keyboard? It's inordinately annoying. I had all manner of thoughts to put to words over the weekend and now? Nothing. And so. I accomplished what felt like a lot over the weekend. I cleaned the house top to bottom, bought Christmas cards (now for the big challenge: to actually send them), got some books at the library (including one from my latest favorite author, Jonathan Carroll), bought some spray-primer for a plaster statue I'm going to paint, and I made two soups (creamy tomato and beet/carrot/ginger), a pan of roasted veggies, and some lovely grilled cheese sandwiches with pesto and sharp cheddar (thanks to Shannon for the notion!). I spent time with Bird, who is getting sicker again.... I reread an old journal that - for once - wasn't completely depressing.... and, let's see.... grocery shopped and went to the gym. I know, I know - the minutiae of my life doesn't exciting reading make. It's all I've got at the moment. Tomorrow night is my developmental psych. final - hurrah hurrah - for which I have not yet studied. In fact, I never even bought the book for this class and somehow I have an A. At least I did have an A prior to last week's bonehead move, wherein I turned my paper in late. And yes, that would indeed be a paper that I knew about the entire semester. Such is the way with an accomplished procrastinator. The instructor even gave the class a one-day extension and I still managed to turn it in late. Allegedly, I'm a grown-up, but there are days when I wonder. I had a rather poor attitude about this class from the get-go; I took what amounts to psych 101 last fall, and this class really just seemed redundant. And it was. I'll be glad when it's over. Next semester will be a completely different story - I have class 3 nights/week: 5 to 7 on Mondays, 5 to 10 on Tuesdays, and 4:30 to 10:30 on Wednesdays. This slacker attitude of mine will have to stay home with the cat; the real nursing stuff starts then. ********************************* Alas, I am boring myself, so I can't even imagine what anyone else might be thinking, should they have made it to the bottom of this page. If I'm struck by inspiration, I'll post again later. Random fact for the day: I got a new battery, new windshield wipers, and a new air filter in my car over the weekend. Today, I am grateful for: blue jays and the scent of cedar. Over and out.

---------------------------------------

Edited to add: I got an email from my instructor - I got an A minus on the paper. He said it would have been an A if I'd gotten it in on time. I just reread the paper... and I must say, it's quite a load of malarkey. However, it is well-written malarkey, and so I shall accept my A minus with grace. Ha!

Whistling titmice

Titmouses? At any rate, I just watched two of them engage in a little aerial battle a few moments ago in front of the office window feeder and they both did this funny little whistle I've never heard before. Very cute, very cute indeed. I love being able to observe these guys up close. Earlier today I actually saw one yawn - which, yeah. Very cute! I really can't help it. The power of cute will get me every time. I'm a sucker for it. (image courtesy of Google) So. Another day. I'm feeling a little aimless right now, and also frustrated. Given that I haven't decided yet how exactly I'm going to go about discussing my personal life in this new blog, I can't really give much voice to my frustrations. At the moment, nothing terrible is happening, so there's that. Moving on. Hopefully I'll find a way to use my voice that will be helpful to me - and also not somewhat dangerous. I had my second-to-last developmental psychology class last night. Next week is the final, and then I am free until mid-January. (twiddling thumbs as she bores even herself!) La la la. ******************* random fact for the day: I am eating fake chicken patties for lunch smothered in Iguana triple X hot sauce. Yum. today, I am grateful for: streaky pink sunrises and old friends. Until later... ta.

Again to the invisible audience

I wrote a lot today. I was momentarily inspired. Part of that inspiration comes from having a new place to write - a blank sheet of paper, essentially. However, one of the main reasons I felt so much like writing was because of an email I received. It was short, but it was something that meant a lot to me. It now sits folded in my back pocket, where it will stay, except when said pocket is in the wash. To know you are loved is sometimes a novel concept. I have taken it for granted for much of my life. I think I am beginning to learn what it really means. I am in fact a flailing idiot when it comes to love. Not always, but a lot of the time. I am greedy about love sometimes - I expect it and I eat it up. I have been an unkind friend in that way to people I love. I'm like a predatory sponge. I soak it up and I don't give it back. I have a record of not appreciating love even when it hits me directly in the head, much like a brick might. I also have a record of thinking there is love when there is mostly possessiveness. I think there may be too many s's in that word, but I'm not spell-checking. And with that... I'm off. I would like to write more, but I really can't. Class is over, time to go home.

An explanation regarding the blog title

I have had blogs elsewhere for going on three years. One I deleted because it simply became too raw, too personal. The second one should have been left standing, but in a moment of stupidity I deleted that one as well. And so... here we go again! My decision to blog at all stems from a need to write things out. I've kept journals since I was a child, on and off; for me, writing is the easiest form of communication. One thing I've learned is that - surprisingly - it is also one of the easiest ways for me to communicate with myself, so to speak. Many times what comes out on the keyboard has more clarity for me than the thoughts swirling in my own head. So, that's the first reason I blog - to work things out. Secondly, I have things that do need to be worked out. Right now my life is not in a particularly good place. I want to remove myself from this place, though at the moment I'm not quite sure how to do that. This is a start. And lastly, I have found the blogging community to be very supportive in times when I need a hand up. I discovered that I am not alone, though I may feel that way. This has helped me immeasurably. I seem to live my life very much through words - my own and those written by others. I don't know why that is, but it has always been thus. I used to wonder why, but I just accept it as a fact of my life at this point. It's not that I want to avoid human interaction, nor am I incapable of conversation - it's just that the written word is a part of the foundation of who I am. That's all. And finally - the title of the blog. A year or so ago, a friend of mine sent me a link to a fantastic set of pictures, accompanied by a truly lovely essay. The photo series is of mobulas, a genus of rays. Just looking at the pictures of these gorgeous creatures and reading the words of the essay lifted my spirits - there is such freedom in the flying mobulas. The author finishes his essay with a quote from Steinbeck about the "joyful survival of sea life." These ideas appeal to me very much - I crave freedom, I hunger for joy and beauty. I seek, to use the same phrase, joyful survival. The essay by Paul and Michael Albert is very inspiring to me for these reasons... hence the title of the blog. Please visit the essay and photos here: http://www.malbertphoto.com/mobulas1.html

Notice

To my many readers (ok then... to my pretend audience - to say that I have any readers just yet is, um... ludicrous)... or anyone who stumbles upon this humble blog: A friend of mine volunteers at a very cool wildlife rehab place in the San Juan islands of Washington state. Recently, they were hit with a helluva lot of heavy, wet snow. The accumulation of said snow collapsed their eagle flight cage, which will take a lot of money to repair. You can see the damage here: http://hollowhappenings.blogspot.com/; the official website is here: http://www.wolfhollowwildlife.org/. What she doesn't mention on the site is that the pipes to the seal pool burst during the storm as well. Unfortunately, wildlife rehabilitation organizations almost to a one perpetually run on empty with regard to funds. If you so decide, it would be terrific if you would donate what you can to the cause. I know I will.

The cure for nearly any ill

These.

And pizza.

A very pale New England Aster

(Aster novae-angliae)

So... welcome to my world. I wish it was a world filled with asters, but alas it is not. At the moment, it's more or less filled with tiredness and confusion. I aim to change that. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do such a thing just yet, but for me, writing it all out is a good place to start.

Somehow, I seem to have lost who I am. And I do mean lost; it feels sometimes as though I'm standing alone on a barren ocean shore on a cold grey day - all of that frigid emptiness is all that I am. Trying to find my way back to myself isn't going to be an easy thing to do.

Well... there is work to be done that has nothing to do with finding myself, so I'm off.

Until later, then... ta.

And so.

Hello world.