dangerous food

We just finished a jar of salsa that a friend made. It sat on our house altar for several months while she recovered from a series of bone breaks last summer. We finally opened it about a month ago, and had some, then forgot about it. I don't know why we forgot. This stuff is excellent!

We'll send the jar back to her. We noticed the label was from July 2004.

We lived to tell the tale.

Last night I ate a little potato salad and macaroni salad that sat out on the countertop the night before. I didn't experience so much as a tiny twinge of gas.

I'm not afraid of food, for the most part. I think it shows.

grandma

Tomorrow is my grandmother's birthday. It's easy for me to remember because it's exactly 6 months from mine.

She would have been 122. She died 38 years ago.

(See? I told you my mother was a menopause baby!)

Mary (Mame) Betz L. was a very special person. She's still a huge presence in my life, and miss her very much.

a long time coming

My desk has looked like this since time immemorial, or at least since last fall.















That salad bowl was from today, though. I don't know how long the water bottle was tucked back there.

Anyway, this has been a major source of irritation and anxiety for me. It's true I don't have much to do in this world anymore besides walk the dog, but underneath the pile of books (seven total, to be exact) and various scrap papers, there are several months worth of receipts for which I need to log sales tax into Quicken. (Is your life this exciting, too?)

I finally found my web cam, calculator, Quicken backup memory stick, Whitney gardens catalog (I wanted to buy some species rhododendrons in the spring, alas), three pads of paper, seeds, memorial cards, and the last Christmas card I'll ever get from my cousin Joe. And even though I dusted, I wouldn't exactly say this desk is clean, but I am overjoyed to say it's decrappified.















No worries. It won't take me long to crap this all up again.

I'd like to thank the Academy.... okay, that would be hobbitt, for never giving me grief about this mess he's had to pass by, on a daily basis, in our shared office. And - wouldya help me with some of the monthly filing, pretty please?

reaching out

To my recent blog visitor from Trenton:

Why don't you write to me? I don't know what happened. If I've hurt you, at least tell me why.

I miss you.

I've been dreaming

I've been out walking for hours.
I've got something on my mind.
How did we get here? Where are we going?
And why is life so hard?

I read the stories, see the photographs.
World's in a crazy space.
I've got to hold on to my dreams;
There's just no other place.
There's just no other place.

I believe
We can change anything.
I believe
We can rise above this.
I believe
There's a reason for everything.
I believe
In my dream.

I've seen the shadows of the living.
Seen them turn and walk away.
And I keep searching for the right words
To send these thoughts away.

There's a picture I like to look at,
A picture of a beautiful face.
And I see something in her eyes,
Sends me to a better place.
Sends me to a better place.

I believe
We can change anything.
I believe
In my dream.

Joe Satriani - I Believe (Flying in a Blue Dream)

If I had a personal anthem, this would be it.

an ordinary tuesday

Yesterday we had guests. We wanted to go up into the San Juans on the Puget Sound Express to see some whales. Nobody else signed up for the trip, so it was cancelled. As it turned out, there were no resident orcas to be seen in the usual haunts, about an hour's boat ride from Pete Townsend. They were probably annoyed by the arrival of a few small groups of transient orcas (meat eaters) who were hunting just off Partridge Point (Whidbey Island) about 20 minutes outside of Pete. The tour operator called and asked if we'd care to take a shorter trip. We did indeed care to do that! And it was still just us six, on a boat that normally carries more 20 or more. It was a very private tour.

It wasn't long once we were out in the Strait that we came across a small group of whales headed straight for us. Transient orcas aren't endangered like the resident pods, and there are less strict rules about approaching, following, and getting in front of them. If these had been residents, we'd have NEVER been able to be as close.














We saw a larger group with a very young calf, probably born this season.













This group approached our boat (now with its engines off) directly, and passed alongside and beneath us. Seeing what they looked like underwater was pretty breathtaking, too. The sounds they made as they breathed were short and deep. I'll never forget it. The teenagers who were with us were in the cabin below, and saw the whales from an entirely different angle. Sadly, they didn't have cameras.
















There were a pair of males (easily identified by their enormous dorsal fins) who passed by quite far off. We didn't get any decent pictures of them. But these are likely females.














I would imagine it to be exhilarating to see these whales from a zodiac, but I'm not sure I'd like to take that long a trip (from San Juan Island all the way here) on a boat this size. We had the luxury of a cabin, a head, and a place to get out of the wind and eat our sandwiches.















On the other hand, these researchers were able to get a very good look and probably identify some of these whales. I want this job!














It wasn't very long before a commercial ship came steaming through the Strait. This is the only way into the Puget Sound, after all. Our skipper notified the captain of this ship, and they were able to change course a bit away from the kelp beds where these whales were hunting seals.














Our captain got on the radio and teased the skippers of the other boats about having to come all the way to Pete (for once!) to see whales. This was a very unusual event. I feel blessed. I think our guests had a good time. We certainly couldn't have asked for more.















photos by Michelle, Kurt and hobbitt

visits

My friend from NC was here on Friday, with her husband and another couple of their friends. We ate. We toured. We ate some more. We sipped adult beverages. We swapped clothes and jewely. And it was good.

I got a cool pair of fish-bone earrings and pink moccasins, plus skin-care products and a huge chocolate cake from the best bakery in the PNW. Oh, and the requisite cat project pictures, of course. (That's Rojean, followed by Chuck, then Billy, and finally, my friend Angela.) And lots of laughs. Can't ask for more than that.

Tomorrow another set of visitors is coming, and with luck, we're going to see some Orca.

I've just spent 2 hours looking at boats on-line. I think it's time to go buy some plants and get my hands back in the earth again, what?

a boy and his boat

hobbitt wanted a kayak. I heard and obeyed. Honestly, that's a load of crap. But I did spring for it.

And so we took a paddle, our very first little trip together.
















He followed me up a creek.















As far as we could go.
















It's quite beautiful there.















Eventually our butts gave out, and we had to go back home.
















All the way over there, and around the corner, and then another 3/4 miles.















And the birthday boy said, "Thanks for being a water person."

I said, "You just wait."

hmmmmmmmmm

What Is Your Animal Personality?

Horse
Take this quiz!

I'm totally with the "urge to escape" part, indeed. It is perhaps the main reason I purchase airline tickets the way I do.

hopelessly in love with a web-toed man

Last night hobbitt and I took adult beverages down to the beach, and after the walk, we sat on our favorite log, sipped and chatted. He had just come back from an interesting weekend and I wanted to hear about it. We swapped stories, waved at passing neighbors, and watched the idiot kid who has his wreck of a sailboat anchored in the eel-grass beds off our beach motor away with it toward Port Hadlock. I allowed as how I wasn't going to miss seeing that boat. It's had its sails dragging in the water for the past week.

Anyway, we got to talking about the car and the title, and what to do about it. It doesn't really matter, all in all. Right now the license plates on our cars are consecutive, and that's kinda cute to me. I suppose whatever is cheapest to do is what we should do, but I'd rather not have to re-register the car. We don't really know what the options are anyway.

Now I'm fully aware of how obnoxious I am about owning both these cars. We don't really separate anything between us and never have. Probably my father's wedding ring, set into a necklace which my mother wore, is the only thing that is "only" mine here. hobbitt would make sure it got back to my family if something ever happened to me. Everything else - well, it's just ours.

I asked hobbitt if he was growing weary of my obnoxious attitude about the cars. He said no. That surprised me, since I'm pretty sick of it myself. So I asked him why it didn't bother him, and he said, "Because it's something that makes you smile."

I don't know if he saw the tears in my eyes. I hope he saw the smile on my face. And neither of us paid attention that the crappy little sailboat was motoring back toward our beach.

pope soap on a rope

Hey, I don't know what it means, either. It just came to mind as I left the county courthouse today, after a fruitless attempt to transfer my Swedemobile's title to the state of Washington.

You see, I paid the car off recently (early - happy dance break!) and got the title from Volvo. When I applied for the loan, hobbitt had to co-sign, since I don't actually have any income. Ahem. Somehow his name is on the title, though I registered the car here in my name only. I never saw the title and had no idea his name was on it. The licensing department here saw the title when it was faxed to them by Volvo, and they should have never issued my registration that way, but they did.

But make no mistake! These cars are both mine. His car is mine because my mother gave it to us when she found out she was dying, and to avoid having to pay a sales tax in New Joy Sea, it had to be titled to me. My car is mine because, well, because it is. I used my executor fee to pay for it. But I hadn't yet finished the estate. Hence, the loan.

None of this matters. We've given each other complete power-of-attorney. I could sell his body to medical researchers if I wanted to, and behind his back, to boot. Not that I would. And anyway, those papers were drawn up in New Joy Sea so they're not valid here anyway. I'm back to groveling for an allowance, and picking up pennies off the street.

Not really. Basically we have an understanding. What's his is mine and what's mine is mine.

So anyway, in order to transfer title of the Bjornbuggy, for which I have an abiding and unnatural love, and which is coming up on 30k miles, he has to come to the courthouse with me and either sign the transfer (along with me) or sign an affadavit of release.

What to do, what to do.

Well, for one thing, it's time to update those POA papers, what? And our wills. Want in?

You wish.

anti-mullet

In the general spirit of high school senior pictures, I introduce BlueHeronDruid in her youth:

























Yes, Catholic school. It shouldn't be hard to pinpoint the decade. Check out some of my younger blogger friends, Alison and Rude Cactus*.








* Re: The Rude Cactus. Be seriously sure you don't have any liquids in your mouth that will stain. I'm just saying.

on the water

Calm, warm, very sunny. All the way to Chimacum Creek, all the way up Chimacum Creek.

About 5 miles.

My butt is hurting.

The rest of me feels tired, but oh, so good.

on my own again

So hobbitt is off to camp near Mt. Shasta with his retreat group. That gives me three entire days to see if I can do better in his absence. It's no secret that I'm generally inert when he's not around, and even when he is.

Today I plan to go paddling. The weather reports indicate pretty calm winds, which will be nice later this afternoon. I'm trying to decide if the pup needs another cortisone shot - her itching and chewing have been pretty severe, and though I may be too optimistic, she does seem a bit calmer today.

Tomorrow I have to do plant clinic at the Farmer's Market, from about 8:45 to 11:30 a.m. The challenge is always in getting out of bed in the mornings, but this time, I have to drive myself there, too. And carry my own chair. Life is hard, innit? Yeah.

For the most part when hobbitt is away, I don't talk to anyone. I pretty much decline invitations. I like my solitary time. Let's see how I do this time around.

fizzle

By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, my legs were like jelly. And not in a good way.

I rested for a while on the beach, after giving the pup cool water on her belly. I thought a rest might help. But after I did the two loops around the copse, I knew better than to try to come up.

hobbitt rescued me, just like he did 17 years ago. Only this time it was from an uphill climb, and not from loneliness or my own poor decisions.

Don't worry that I'll give up. The leg that was weakest is the good one, the one I haven't been doing the exercises with. And that tells me what I need to do next.

wish me luck

I haven't walked the hill (up or down) since January, at least.

I'm going to try it today. Now. In a few minutes. The down part first, of course.



















My knee will take it, I now know, after the hike at Third Beach the weekend before last.

Whether my lungs can handle it, or whether the stamina is there, I have no idea.

But I'm going to find out. And no worries. I'll have my cell phone in my pocket and my wonderful hobbitt at the ready to come collect me if I fail.

Not that that will happen.

Oh, and for any of you snickerers out there, this is just the last 10th of a mile after the switchbacks.

way to go, dude!

Remember my friend? The one who's trying to quit smoking?

Well.

In spite of a veritable train wreck, he didn't.

I would have. In fact, I told him that I'd be half in the bag at the moment and three-quarters of the way through a pack of smokes.

We discover things about ourselves through adversity and trial. I think he just discovered how much he honors himself. And that makes me smile, from ear to ear.

funk-a-licious

Yep. Slipping into it again.

September is fast approaching and I have to decide what I want to do. There's a 2-day Master Gardener symposium in Seattle early on in the month. I must decide by Friday if I'm going to enroll. Also my Shaman Camp reunion group is meeting in Binghamton NY September 20-24.

I want to go; I don't want to go. I definitely need a spiritual tune-up. Yet though I would entrust my lives to the people in that group, I don't feel entirely at ease with many of them, and often find myself quite lonely at our meetups. Plus, I don't sleep well when I'm there - too many young women with estrogen, needing windows shut and heat on and all. Did I say young? I think the youngest among the group is probably pushing late 40's by now.

To get there I'd have to do at least some time in a motel or with my family, 4 hours away. And my sister recently informed me that she's letting her daughter move back in, so that'll be 4 of her offspring in a 3-bedroom house. I don't think there's room for me. And for many, many reasons, that's okay.

I just don't feel like it. And yes, that's a poopy response. The same kind of response I heard from myself when wondering whether to go down the street to the deli to get lunch for us, because there's no food in the house. Not wanting to venture even a few blocks from home is a serious symptom, as well as the whole "no food in the house" issue.

And on top of all that, I can't even think straight anymore. I guess my mind turns to mush when I'm not caregiving. Got-dammit!

The last time this happened, I quit my job at Kraft and traveled the southwest for a few months by train and the kindness of friends. It seemed necessary for me to get out into the world alone and be brave, to break the bonds that hold me in my usual homebody state.

What should I do? I'm open to all suggestions.