Remembering... one year ago today

Remembering.. one year ago today

aoooommmmmmmm.......

a year ago

i was acting on faith when i took that leap.

we jumped into the deep and treaded.

and treaded.

for a very

very

long time.

we worked so

hard, you and i.

in the end

(the beginning!)

you were more important

than any

principle

i tried to hold or

point

i felt i needed to prove

(fear i resisted facing...).

hands down no doubt about it.

yet still

i was acting on faith.

but today as i hold you in my arms with your head upon my chest and your sleep-sweaty hair sticks to your pinky cheek so that i may gaze at you for a long time and marvel,

i reach back in time to one year ago

and whisper

in that utterly exhausted mommy's ear:

"it's worth it!"

you're worth it. you're worth all of it. all of that.

somehow i feel as if i must have heard.

letting go

(of stubbornness,

and the vision

of how it

"was supposed

to happen"),

i gave in

to ultimate

vulnerability.

i closed my eyes and went down.

and you came up for air.

Decompression, or: Returning Home

So what was it that I was trying to say about my Burning Man experience this year? "How was your burn?" as the query goes in the "lingo".

Every other year that I have been to Black Rock City, I have been so awestruck, so spellbound, so mystified, comforted, challenged, embraced ~ that I have not wanted to leave. And I have fallen into depression upon returning to the rest of my life (as *awesome* as it is!). A big part of me has always stayed back there in the desert. Well. I'm glad that I went this year with Anjali. I needed to go, and I loved and lived being a citizen of Black Rock City with my baby. And. At the end of the week, I was so ready to return to my lovely home and to my loving family and truly beauty-full life.

So I came home. I took a shower as soon as I could. I put on my everyday casual non-costumey shirt and pants. I came home to a house blessedly filled with loved ones from all over the country. To a garden in need of tending, and farmers' market harvests brimming and ready for canning season. To a henhouse of chickens waiting to be accepted, tended, and known. To ecstatically welcoming a new housemate in the near future (welcome home, Austin!!!)! I came home to a husband who works sooo hard to be the best Sealion he can be, and to help me be the best Me I can be.

The best Us.

To a little girl who certainly no longer seems like an infant ~ a person! ~ who is about to turn one year old before I even know what hit me.

I'm here now.

I came home.

chickens!

sometimes i get the urge and inspiration to actually *write* on this blog ~ to take the time to create a piece that is meaningful, well thought-out, executed, and edited. i have been ruminating on just such a "piece" for a whole month (about Burning Man, of course).
Meanwhile my life keeps happening and the little blurbs that i usually manage on here these days don't happen because i have this *piece*. well, this blog gets the stale crusts of my life time. when writing time happens ~ naptimes when i feel the spirit moving ~ i have this other blog that takes precedent: the Anjali blog that the grandparents read and which chronicles her life. and i feel like that's "productive" time, whereas writing on moment-by-moment when . . [she stood without holding onto anything for the first time (for example)] seems like poorly used time. and if [that chore] didn't get done because i was blogging on the baby blog it's one thing, but if i'm "futzing" around on here ~ well, that's another. which is not really the case. i believe that creative self-expression should be a priority in everyone's life (i really do.), but i think i don't *feel* that way when i apply it to myself. (and my food blog ~ it's downright moldy at this point!!)

i think i also have this *way* that i want this blog to be that perhaps i just don't have the time, energy, or true interest in executing (or at least right now). and tending towards perfectionism, i would rather not do something at all than do it not to my highest expectation (an attitude i don't recommend at all, either).

SO a month has gone by and here i am.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*****~~

We have chickens!!!

This is something we have dreamed/schemed about for a while. At least a year or so. One of Sealion's coworkers bought a batch of them ~ 20 or so ~ when they were very tiny (mail-ordered. that's the way most chickens are bought ~ fascinating, eh?!), and as they grew, Katherine realized she had a few too many for her coop. So we said we'd take a few.

This summer Sealion created a beautiful hen house ~ which i call a mansion because it is so palatial and finely detailed. He worked on it at least a little bit every day for a long time (he loves having projects= an understatement), and kept coming up with more ways to make it great.

A couple weeks ago we went to Katherine's house in Vallejo and had a lovely homemade potluck dinner with her and her daughter home from college. Toured her magnificent backyard and picked up three hens! Put one in a cat carrier and the others in a cardboard box. Let them get to know their new palace while Sealion built a gated fence around the compost pile for their yard.

Delightful! They are unusual; not the standard hen that might come to mind when you imagine "barnyard chicken." They are petite ("banties") and sleek, and have silky shiny feathers ~ two with rusty brown and black, and the other with shades of cream. And their most distinguishing feature is the mop of feathers they have on their heads which hides their eyes from view. As they have gotten settled in, one of Sealion's other coworkers offered to bring us a couple of his hens, too! They are more of the "standard" hen in size and shape ~ bigger than the other three, with little red mask-hats. One's feathers are black and white checkerboard and the other white/creamy.

Chickens are as hard to capture without flash as babies.

We have never been around chickens (though I did live on a farm for a few years in high school), so having them in our backyard is a cause for bringing out the campchairs and a cooler of drinks because we want to watch them for hours at a time. Anjali cries every time we come back inside from viewing them.

The first hen emerges from the house.

The banties are still adolescents, so they have yet to lay eggs. But the others have already produced three in the few days they have been here. Forget about Easter egg hunts ~ how about when they're real eggs! Even though I knew that that's what happens with hens (they, um, lay eggs), when I discovered the first one, my jaw dropped in amazement!

Can you hear the dramatic choral "AAAAHHHH!" as I spotted it for the first time?

Each of us finds an excuse to go in the backyard several times a day just so we can investigate whether there's another egg laid.

I like to research, and in preparation for the hens I have come upon books and websites of some real hen nerds. I thought to myself, "well, we might keep hens, but we won't be like *these* people!" wink wink! But I could see how a person might be inspired to dedicate a whole blog to their chickens. They are fascinating and entertaining to watch. And the fact that they lay eggs! That could make you into a devotee pretty fast, I suspect.

The first egg, poised on its bed of dirt, redwood straw, and shredded paper.

Hello, September!  

Hello, Post-Burning Man!  Hello, Rest of My Life!  

Hello, Early Autumn! 

I'm Ready to Begin.  

about Burning Man

a cool article.

crafty: sun clothes for the playa

dust-and-sun inspired items for la petite fille ~

i hear what you're saying ~ "that white stuff will be ruined in minutes!"  

but it's all about comfort in the sun and heat.  

the purple pants are what Sealion calls, "Aladdin pants" very similar to Mommy's dance pantaloons.

here is the only photo of her actually in her gear.  

the sleeves and collar were not finished on the shirt, but you get the idea.  

dusty beats

and this is the pandora station that Sealion is listening to get his playa-paration bumpin':

Bassnectar.

dusty groove

here's the pandora station i'm listening to today to get stoked while i pack for the playa:

Cheb I Sabbah

oh, and by the way ~ from that earliest post in the month (the *only* other post i've written this whole month!), it might seem as if i'm abstaining from blogging.  but that's not the case:  

i'm up to my earballs in playa prep!  my other habit ~ espresso ~ has become a daily given as i  obsessively plan, search, or create, (and take care of the babe, of course).  and when i'm not doing all of the above, i'm TIRED.  and don't feel like being productive otherwise.  hence the aforementioned episodes. . 

[and i say "i" as if sealion hasn't done 100 times more work than i. . . ]

habit forming

i'm developing a habit.. 

i'm watching Sex and the City episodes at night. . 

with my big mug of milk, and perhaps a square of chocolate,  

when anjali is solidly snoozing and the boy is at work..

i pull out my computer and open iTunes.  at first i was just buying episode by episode, but then i finally just purchased the whole first season.

damn is it good stuff.   

pertinent, but rambling nonetheless

blogging is like any other habit.  the more you do it, the easier it is to do.  some days, when i'm really in the groove, i write more than one post.  and then sometimes weeks go by and i don't feel that i have anything worthwhile to post.  for me and my process, i think it is most important just to write, to check in with myself and assess what is going on with me and my self and my life.  

there has been something bothering me for a while:  i continue to have a frustration with being on the computer.  i feel that when i am on the computer, i have plugged my head into some Matrix-like existence that is other than the here and now.  this bothers me.  but the way in which i communicate, express myself, and, largely, learn about the world around me is by being online.  i fantasize sometimes that i could just give the computer away and never go online again (we used to live that way, right?).  but then i'd have to use the telephone. . (ha!  it's true though, those of you who know me are aware.)..  most of the people whom i care about, other than my husband and baby of course, don't live near me or anywhere close.  so the internet enables me to feel closer to loved ones who aren't, and . . facilitates *not* fostering a community where i actually live.  and right now when my baby is sleeping i could be doing any number of productive or simply pleasurable activities on this sunny morning in Berkeley.  but instead i have my head in this box.  the computer draws me in like the tv in a restaurant that's playing a baseball game that my eyes just get drawn to whether i want to watch it or not (and i don't).  so here i am, writing this rambling post.  i have attempted to write with my hand and a pen when i get the mood to blog.  but honestly, i learned to write on a computer keyboard.  it is so much more effortful to move a pen with my hand than to type on a keyboard (in college i did get myself a non-electric typewriter to be like those writers i admired, but it's sooo much harder to push down those keys!!), and by the time i do it i've lost my train of thought.  or maybe the exercise of writing is better for that very reason.  i have always tended toward the Luddite.  [and to romanticize and idealize it.  i often fantasize about living at a Zen monastery farm in Marin county. .. or maybe France ~ as long as i'm fantasizing.. ;-)  but even Buddhist monks and nuns use the computer.]   

i think a *lot* about what i put out into the world.  i censor myself a lot.  so as an exercise for myself, i'm going to actually publish this post in its rambling coffee-before-adequate- nourishment spastic nature.         

Yup

***

***

I think I'm doing it. I'm gonna take Anjali to Burning Man.

(caution: i always wax wordy and ponderific when it comes to Burning Man, don't i. . )

Before we got pregnant, we were so convinced that we would be that hard-core family who went no matter what! But as I got more and more pregnant, and Baby became more and more of a reality (and an oven), we skipped last year. As soon as Anjali came out into the world, and I took in how precious and soft and beautiful she was, there was no way I was taking this tiny creature into the harsh desert. She might get hot! Or some careless person might break her! This was the firm stance I took. And sensible people whom I respect agreed wholeheartedly. My husband and friends made plans for the playa, and I made plans for a girlfriend trip to San Diego with Anjali instead.

And then Sealion played a sweet game with Anjali where he hid behind the door of the kitchen and popped out randomly ~ first up high, then down low! From one side, then mysteriously the other! And with a different silly facial expression every time. I might have enjoyed it as much as she did. It reminded me of the childlike open heart that I always rediscover while in Black Rock City. Lightness. Later in the day I was dancing in the kitchen (as I often do) to some inspirational beats. And the idea came to me, really for the first time: I could go to Burning Man with Anjali. Crazy talk. I thought about it some more. As I did, a tension was released in my stomach that I didn't realize I was holding. I found I was liking myself more. I felt hopeful and optimistic. Hmm. This is important to pay attention to.

Scheming, researching, I joined the Kidsville theme camp Yahoo group (yes, for those of you unfamiliar, there is a family camp out there already). Asked some questions, checked in with my self once again (and with my husband). It felt good. I registered myself and Anjali for a camping spot in Kidsville. (Papi will still be camping with our friends over in Kentucky Fried Camp, where they serve fried baloney on white sandwiches and shots of bourbon [not to be interchanged with Jack Daniels] to a long line of hungry playa-goers. them's our peeps!)

I remember talking to one of my friends, a father of a three-year-old who had been to the playa pre-baby. About taking children, he firmly judged, "Burning Man is an *adult* playground." And I nodded. Yes; I'm sure the drug-induced orgies will occur while we're there. But we'll never come upon them, just as I've never seen one in the past. On the playa, as with most of life, you kinda find what you're looking for. Especially between the hours of 7 am and 9pm in Kidsville.

As for my baby ruining my own fun at Burning Man? She *is* fun for me. My experience this year will be different than in years past. But, as I already said, it depends on what you're looking for. I'm looking for a few days in my favorite city with my favorite new person; not for a babysitter while I go play like a non-Mommy (though I respect all those other parents out there who do have a babysitter. That's just not my vision for *me* this time around).

When I entered Black Rock City for the first time, I was awe-struck. I felt as if I had found my home-planet, finally! A whole city full of creative adventurous people living self-imagined possibilities, stretching breaking and stepping past limits. Visionary, expressive, do-ing, solutionary (I like that word; I should send it to Webster's), hugely thought-provoking, and Big.

Anjali doesn't need this homecoming. She is already there. She is Big everyday, and only knows how to live Big. But Mommy would love a reminder. Last year when I chose not to attend, I felt as if I were saying "yes" to my baby. This year, more and more, it's feeling like I have been saying "no" to my self and my spirit. I feel as if I need to go. And, more than the mild temps and fully-clothed citizenry of Berkeley, Anjali needs a Mommy who is in touch with her self and feels free.

I'm ready to say yes.

***

And the next question I answer yes to ~ why, yes, I have started sewing feverishly. ; )

***wig and goggles not necessarily included.

butterfly bush, nasturtium, bachelor's button, cosmos,

mystery daisy-esque flower

crafty: kitty cat dress for a friend

I am pleased to get to show you this latest sewing project that I created for a dear friend for her first birthday.

At the family reunion ~ I'm honored!

This was shot when it was hanging on the clothesline, here.

For the base dress I used a pattern by Lotta Jansdotter, from her book, Simple Sewing for Baby. But I really took off from there. I repurposed three women's blouses (called "baby doll blouses" ~ how appropriate), and was able to incorporate the collar, shoulder pleats and buttons from one blouse to make this dress a lot fancier than the pattern from which I was working. And I used the pocket from another blouse. I had so much fun scheming how to use the blouses and then making this dress. And although the design intends for the closure to go in the back (as with lots of women's clothing), you can see that it works just fine in the front. But, of course, the cute dress only highlights how special the wearer, herself, is.

Oh, dear. .

And they keep getting cuter?!

boogie down . . sometimes

Well, I spoke too soon on that one.  This morning as we listened to it, it had quite a "Dance Party 2000" kinda feel to it.  And then as soon as I started to walk over to give a song a "thumbs down," I look over at Sealion and he is mouthing the words and knows all the breaks (his favorite music radio station is SF's gay dance station).  So cute.  

So a lot of the time you get Curtis Mayfield (whom I *love*), and sometimes you get people called Maroon 5.  It's all very danceable, just some is very much my style, and some very much Sealion's. And, of course, since it's Pandora, you can fine-tune it to your preferences.  

Just do it when Sealion's not looking.  ;-)    

. ..  a post script:  ok, so i was wrong in the above post.  when sealion read it, he said, "i do *not* like Maroon 5!"  i just picked that group because it was one with which i was totally unfamiliar.  but apparently that doesn't even represent him well, either.  so there you go. . (but there are still plenty that he does like that i would thumb down!)  

boogie down

I feel cheesy loving Pandora as much as I do.  But here's a station  Sealion suggested this morning that I just *love* ~ Jamiroquai.  Stevie Wonder, classic Michael Jackson (may his soul finally be at peace), and then a bunch of newer stuff I wasn't familiar with that is so danceable.  This station is seriously, severely bootie-shake material.  You can't help but dance.    

   

feverfew, yarrow, butterfly bush, nasturtium, and pea blossom, 

with the Pooh Bear lamp that one of my parents' friends made for me when I was born. 

dance, and the dancers

And did I mention dance?  

Creative, innovative, highly skilled, hard-working, passionate and devoted to the dance, 

these lovely creatures are too modest.  

gratitude: for friends

Ahhh. So awesome to have TT, Farhad, Mel, Phil, and Phil's mom, Sonya, "Me-maw," in the area for a while! Music, hookah, dance, laughter, bourbon, and late night (all-the-time, more like it) Indian food (well. . food. if we're involved, there's food involved) were all in abundance.

Ahhh. Good, old friends. And good times with good old friends.

TT!

TT and Farhad toast the oysters at Hog Island in SF's Ferry Building. 

Anjali and her new BFF, Ivy, from whom Anjali earned her first official nickname, Jolly (a common American mispronunciation of the tail end of her name, and more importantly, a fitting adjective). 

Me-maw! (not ours ~ Ivy's.)

A music rehearsal with Helm at the Shochats'.  

The melody from Farhad's tar was the theme of my head the whole time.