My Name is Mommy

Like itching powder in your too tight britches.

Irritating.  I cannot stand it when people are unable to master the proper use of the ellipsis.  It isn't just those who know how to use it and choose not to, but those that somehow think it really does consistently consist of 14 periods in a row.  I would make a comment about lack of education, but then Mike would rightly accuse me of being an intellectual snob.  Not that he isn't, as he hates mangled grammar even more than I do.  Let me indulge my snobbery: if you can't write, please spare the internet and don't.

Secondarily, Nate is back in town.  I gave him a call and chatted to him about one of Liz's horses.  I am sad to hear that he has apparently thrown in the towel on his training career and is going to be a farrier? WTF?  I find it insulting to even refer to him as a farrier.  He has more natural talent in his little finger than some of the many, many frauds out there proclaiming to be 'trainers' and 'instructors', all the while doing bullshit garbage like tickling their horses with feathers (apparently in case a giant peacock ever chooses to alight upon their back), waving plastic bags aside their eyeballs and declaring themselves "not yet having earned the right to ride their horse in a bridle".  (Some people will come up with any excuse not to ever actually have to RIDE a horse).  Now if they had proclaimed themselves not yet ready to ride their horse, full stop, I would heartily agree and point them toward 'Smurf' (the blue barrel on which we used to throw a saddle to demonstrate basic seat mechanics). 

Anyhow, Nate, in my mind, has always been a guy that belonged on a horse's back.  Who am I to say except that I have seen what he can do with a horse.  I guess sometimes people just lose their 'try'. I don't begin to know what happened but that anyone would call his-or-herself friend and not be kicking and screaming to get Nate to pick himself up and get back on, well they are no friend to him (maybe secretly glad that he's not realizing his potential and thereby leaving them behind in the dust). 

Many 'friends' told me to throw in the towel on Apollo and then later to throw in the towel on Foxy.  I'll admit I got scared and let go of Apollo for a while.  Family dynamics also dictated some of what happened there.  When I got him back, it was an exercise in patience but I did two things: I rode him every day and I didn't give up.  People told me to get down when he bolted, people told me to get off when he bucked- I didn't.  What I did do was pay attention and find out what made him work the way he did.  I also learned a valuable lesson along the way that there is no need to prove anything to anyone, except maybe yourself and that is always the hardest battle.  The people who really love me take me, chaff and grain. They are the ones who have consistently reminded me to sit back and hold on tight and ride it out, because they know I can.  Sometimes I wish that others had as much to draw upon in difficult times.  Sadly, Nate did, only he didn't apparently realize it or believe he deserved it.  Truly a loss. I hope he finds his try again.

Stay tuned, looks like it is going to be a fantastic weekend.  I am actually getting excited to get my iron so I can get going with a full tank again.  This summer is looking mighty fine, indeed.

Of love and loving, unconditionally.

Feeling a little.. what is this? Happy? Wistful? It has been a long time since I've had this level of peace and contentment in my life.  Right now, right here... things are not perfect, witness a fight with a friend, another friend struggling, my ups and downs as a wife and mother, finding and losing what I thought was true love but was really a figment of needy and desperate state.  The binds that tie one to another in weakness and desperation are ties by which we can strangle ourselves and each other.  There is no love there, just neediness.  In it's place, I have instead found something enduring that has been with me all along and it came from within- not from another person.  And it has allow a small spout to shoot up in the garden of my life that I think will grow tall, send down deep roots and blossom beautifully with care, time and tending- real love.  I'll take it any day over cheap imitations.

I love him.  He is strong, his eyes look at me and see me.  He knows me, to the core in a way no one else does, knows my mood before I even say hello to him.  He takes care of me but also pushes me, tests me, teases me into drawing upon my inner reserves.  He brings out the best in me- I feel pure, unadulterated joy when I am with him and I believe in myself around him.  He trusts me and he accepts my shortcomings, even when I have put us in places that are not the most comfortable because I have a hard time sticking to the beaten path.  Sure, he has his moments when he panics and bolts- sometimes he bucks, but when I need him, when I have to get it done, he's is there for me and leans his shoulder into it even if it's sore.  And I know what he can do.  People might look at him, look past him because he is there with all the other horses, not terribly flashy or different- but I have seen his scope and his heart.  I know ow high he can jump and how fast he can run.  I know what he can accomplish- what we can accomplish together.  Together.  And there it is, partnership, togetherness, not being alone.  When I am with him, I want to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in and stay like that because I am safe and loved and needed and we are together,

Don't worry, hon.  I love you, too.  But you are a whole other kind of animal.  Maybe not as intuitive or fast, but a far better conversationalist than Apollo will ever be.  You are the rational yin to my emotional yang... I love how we complement one another.  I love how we admire one another.  I love how we quietly support each other by respecting our differences.  I love how we've shown our love by chnaging for one another... or maybe not so much changing as allowing ourselves to be who we really are for the other person without the witholding.   Then there is the long building of something over time, together- history.  And of course, seeing you with our children is something I love.  I read somewhere that unconditional love was when you wanted the other person to be happy without regard for what you got, or more importantly, what you lost from that. 

Bounce.

In the best of times, our days are numbered anyway.  So it would be a crime against nature for any generation to take the world crisis so solemnly, that it put off enjoying those things for which we were designed in the 1st place: the opportunity to do good work, to enjoy friends, to fall in love, to hit a ball, and to bounce a baby.  --Alistair Cooke

Margaret and her family rolled into town on Saturday evening, in case you were wondering what happened to the rest of the weekend.  Went to see them in their hotel room at the Hyatt Place.  Nice digs- if you need a hotel in Fremont, this is a good place to get a room.  It was late and they'd driven a long way so I only had a short visit with them that evening.  Left the girls home with Dean as Ave had been doing the whole projectile vomiting thing all day and crashed early.  I went home around 11 and was up until the wee hours editing photos with Picasa, which is my new toy(certainly cheaper than photoshop).

Sunday morning, got up with the birds to go feed the horses.  Was back home and doing a little work and browsing on line by 8am.  After Dean and I had a little fight and then Vi decided to disown us all, Marg and Gordon took me out for Starbucks and we sat out in the sun and talked.  Was nice to just sit and chat and soak up a little vitamin D.  They had other folks to see down here, so they took off for their meet and I went to Costco.  Costco was a frigging nightmare and after loading up my cart, I couldn't't stand it anymore and abandoned ship.  I had been trying and trying to call Dean but he wasn't picking up and I didn't know what we needed, etc..  I had also planned to use the Costco rebate check and I couldn't find that so the theme of the trip: "screw it".  Came home with pizza for the kids and polishes for Dean to an empty house.

Dean finally calls from Rachel's cell phone... he'd taken Vi and Ave over to play with Tova.  "Did you tell Rachel that Ave has been throwing up?" "Uh, oh, no, I'll tell her."  A little late, hon.  Ave seemed better though when they finally wandered in, so, maybe it was just something she ate.

Rounded up both our families and we all headed out to a play place called SkyHigh Sports.  I've never been there before but it said it was fun.  The place has three big rooms that are wall to wall trampolines.  The kids seemed to have a really good time.  Not surprisingly I guess, it kinda smelled like the inside of a sweaty gym shoe.  I put on some perfume and then I couldn't smell it as much. 

We bounced for a bit and then hung out chatting.  Bounced some more.  The kids wanted to stay an extra hour and we let them.  Dean was all sweaty.  So, I bounced a bunch at first and then I was trying to copy this move Milli was doing where she bounced on her butt and then back onto her feet.  Yeah, so, I did that and it kinda made me pee my pants a little so that put the 'damp'er on my bouncing.  I don't know if it was the 4 iced tea lemonades I drank that day or if I'm just getting old and incontinent.

On our way out, I noticed one of those dance revolution video games.  I saw someone do this once at Chuck E Cheese and they were really, really good.  It was cool.  I want to be one of the cool kids.  Alas, it was not to be.  

Mission failure.  Marg and I were supposed to have a dance off- see who could shake her moneymaker better.  Unfortunately, the game seemed to end quite suddenly before it even really began.  Hmm.  Weird how that works.  One might start to believe there is a conspiracy to take one's quarters.  Apparently we haz not the moovz to buzt.  Milli apparently shared our consternation.

We hit TGI Friday's after bouncing and I had fish and chips which I've been craving like crazy.  And a mango daquiri, recommended by the hostess, which proved me to be a cheap date, woo hooo!  Speaking of craving weird things, I've been trying to resist but I am wanting to eat black licorice 24/7-- and the crushed ice machine may got back into use soon.  Okay, it would be in use already if not for the fact that one of my onlays came off my back tooth and it is a little temperature sensitive.  Maintenance sucks.  I need to take the car in for new tires and an oil change.  I need to go have my onlay put back in- so back to the dentist.  Also, my vision seems to have gone south suddenly so maybe it is time to go get new contacts-- or find out if I'm eligible for lasiks.  Although... freaky.  Anything with the eyeball kinda scares me.

And Andrea finally talked me into going up there to see her and seeing a hematologist she knows up there.  So, I am flying up on Tuesday night of next week, have appts. on Wednesday and then will fly home on Friday if I am feeling up to it after having an iron infusion on Thursday. I usually feel especially crappy during and pretty crappy after but it is worth the whole not dying or having a heart attack thing.  The whole having an anaphylactic reaction thing scares me, as does the thought of dying, but this isn't the first time and won't be the last so I guess I shouldn't be such a weenie.

Marg and I had a big fight as she was leaving and I've been feeling pretty crappy about it.  It sucks when you feel like you ended up somewhere you don't want to be and are not sure how you got there or how to get out of it.  Andrea will be there with me for the iron infusion, at least part of the time, I hope, and hopefully Marg, too.  Yeah, kinda sucks when your bestie is pissed at you and thinks you did something on purpose to hurt her.  I'm sorry, that's all I can say.  Just want my friend back, just want us all to be okay.

 

ARGH!

That is the second time this has happened.

My post got ate!

I hate you, hotel wireless gremlins! AIYEEEEE!!!!!!!

Ride like you mean it.

Memorial day was a day to remember.  I rose bright and early to head to the beach for a ride..  Liz met up with me at my house, brought Sadie for a playdate with our dogs.  A quick trip through the drive-through Starbucks for my black-tea-lemonade-sweetened and Liz's iced-green-tea-1-splenda, hit the highway in the lexus to meet Shawn, Haylie, Maram and company with the horses at Salinas River State Beach.  The weather was looking a bit dismal but as we came through the hills the blue skies opened above us and out came the sunglasses.

Shawn pulled up with all our pretty ponies and we went to work getting saddled up.  Shawn who had kindly brought my horse an my stuff for me from the ranch had grabbed the wrong saddle so I ended up using my show jumping saddle I just happened to have thrown in my trunk.  Liz has been having a bit of a rough time and I was distracted and upset over something I'm not prepared to talk about yet, not my usual self.  I made sure Shawn was aware that I was in a bad spot and probably had no business getting on a horse.  Apollo can always tell when I am upset and since he doesn't understand our silly human difficulties, he wonders where the lion or bear is that wants to eat us.

So we mount up and ride out into the soft, warm, deep sand of the dunes.  We are careful to keep the horses moving forward, some of them would like to stop and roll.  I can't blame Apollo for wanting to lay down and sink into that sand.  Later, I pick up a handful of it and let the grains trickle through my fingers, a fine stream that is scattered in the wind... memory...Viola's chubby, toddler hands grasping handfuls of the stuff and gleefully tossing it into the air... Dean and I walking barefoot in the wet sand along the Oregon coast, leaving fading footprints behind us at a time before we were mama and papa but the wheels had been set in motion, a secret inside me that I did not even know yet... hot, gritty and littered with shells, my 4 year old legs pumping hard as I run screaming to my mom across the beach in Hawaii having just been stung by a bee...lying on a blanket, digging my toes into the sand with the blue, blue sky above framed by the edge of the cliffs looming over us...

As we emerge from the dunes, the beach is wide and open, the tide out.  Apollo surges under me, his strong neck rounding, his shoulders straining.  His whole body communicates one thing to me, "Go!"  But I'm having none of it. I want to walk, leisurely and relaxed.  We ride for long stretches without seeing anyone.  The beach is ours.  Haylie and friend are laughing and enjoying themselves.  Maram is testing Abbie's paces, holding her in, trotting her out front and then circling back around- she is smiling perpetually.  At times we ride in a close group, others we spread out.

Apollo is so focused on the wide expanse of beach that goes on and on before us.  He is on the bit or behind it the entire time.  He plays with the bit, chomping at it, wondering when it will be time to run.  I haven't pushed Apollo to ride in the surf before.  We head down to the water line and he side-passes swiftly as a wave comes in to avoid the foam leeching at the shore.

Liz teaches us a game... relax as a wave comes in and let him avoid it, then chase it back out and face the next incoming wave.  We do this several times, in and out.  His mind is so occupied by the water, he's not thinking of that strand of sand that must look so like a race track to him.  Soon we are walking along in the surf, the waves breaking against Apollo's legs.  Finally, I let him out and we canter in the surf with the salt water spray hitting my face. This feels like nothing else- maybe this is what the sea birds feel like, flying over the water. 

Foxy looks amazing.  She was so calm considering she isn't even 3 yeaars old yet.  Shawn, of course, makes her look good.

Robert Browning said: "God forbid that I should go to any heaven in which there are no horses."  Why bother with heaven when you can have it here on earth with a day like this? 

Liz and I drove back along the 1... it was a beautiful day to drive up the coast having good conversation.  Went back to the house to 'ooh' and 'ahh' over her fabulous photos and have a glass of wine. 

It was fabulous to spend the evening with Dean and the girls- fell asleep tucked in against Dean, with his arm around my waist- perfect end to a perfect day.

In which Mommy goes shopping.

We went to take care of the hosses yesterday evening and ended up at Liz's house, awaiting her return.  She literally cried on my shoulder for a bit and then we had some good laughs and began planning for the future.  Because that is what we do, always keep moving forward.  We know our horse stuff.

I went out this morning to see Miz Liz and her roomie Khris.  We had lunch at the old firehouse which has beautiful wood floors, high ceilings, books everywhere and fabulous burgers.  Because I was in charge of the dessert menu, I ordered one of almost everything and we ate a little fruit tatin, creme brulee, bread pudding, banana cream pie.. quite fab.  No, really.  In retrospect, we decided we should have just gone straight for the dessert. Yum.  We had some great conversation, practically invited ourselves to the waiter's bbq that he's having tomorrow except it looks like it might rain. 

We had some good conversation.  Liz is always up for the deep and meaningful discussions of personal philosophy and, of course, the gentle, psychological dissection of all the men and women romantically involved in our lives. 

After lunch, Liz and I ditched Roomie in order to have a girls-only afternoon.  Dean had gladly taken the girls, thus I was free.  Shop we did. We did some fine, fine retail therapy.  I'd say we made a great deal of progress today and literally, I spent about what I would have on my weekly counseling session. So ha!! 

I got a beautiful crimson skirt by Lafayette 148- won't probably wear it til next winter but it will be a staple- friend for my Ellen Tracy black skirt.  Also came away with a blue cotton sundress, a blue tunic tank top and a Juicy strawberry necklace.  Liz and I got a couple of matching items so we can twin it up now and then- found these gorgeous Isda skirts with a black and brown honeycomb pattern on them and also these super-sexy robin's egg blue tube tops with the tiniest string for a halter tie. (Dean's reaction: "That's cute, I can totally see your nipples through that." My reaction: "How can we not get these when they are 60% off $14?").  Liz and I decided we are totally going to wear them to the rodeo. 

The best part was hanging out with my girl for the day.  We were totally giggly girls sharing the dressing room and trying everything on since we're about the same size.  Sisters.  That's what it was like.  Lizzie- you are my soul sista.  We tried on hats. We laughed.  We tried on $1400 blue leather coats and black vinyl trenchcoats.  We mugged for the iphone camera in our black vinyl. Hot, non? We iz tuff.  Do no mez with uz.

So yes, a fabulous day doing the chick shopping thing... haven't really done it sista style in a long, long time... not since high school even.  It's so much easier to order things on the internet and just send them back if they don't work out instead of fighting over a tube top in the clearance section.

We had to wait quite a while to get into the large size dressing room of which there was only one.  Liz and I stood right outside with our quota of items and talked:

Me: "Geez, what is taking so long? Maybe someone is having sex in there."

Liz: "I only see one pair of feet." She peers under the door.

Me: "Maybe she's masturbating in there."

Liz: "Your trying to clear the dressing room, aren;t you? Send them all running out..."

Hey, if it works... work it.  Then this asian girl comes out of one of the dressing rooms wearing, uh, I think it was a garbage bag or something?  I'm all, no! no! no!  She goes to show the oat sack dress off to someone in another room... she's debating... it's expensive... (I think "Thank God" as I watch them agonize over the price tag)... then her face changes... she's going for it anyway... she might have to eat oatmeal for a month but all the better to get clothes-hanger skinny to show off the new recycled drapery she proudly owns... ah, another victim of a fashion disaster.  Please donate to my relief fund with which I will buy a bottle of vodka and some ativan to forget the image of that woman wearing a 1970's couch cushion.

Don't worry.  Karma is coming my way.  I might be mean, but I'm eating cherries by the handful that I got from a roadside stand on the drive back from Livermore.  Cherries.  I can't eat just 47.  You know what that means.  Came home to Avery having a sick tummy and throwing up.  Poor babe.  I've been holding her hair for her, she's not running a fever but I'm a little concerned. 

Beach ride is off for tomorrow due to weather and my wee puking child.  Monday, though, we're headed for the beach, to do some cross-country jumping at Woodside and finally, Golden Gate Park.  Apollo can hardly wait and he doesn't eve know yet!

What it's all about.

  Sometimes, sometimes things are easy.  Sometimes we coast along and it isn't terribly difficult to get up in the morning and hop into that shower and put on your big-girl underwear and go out in the world and live that life you've made for yourself.

Sometimes, rolling over and putting your feet on the floor is a task like no other.  You can't quite understand if you've never been there.  Some people have never been there by virtue of the fact that when they were 4 years old they wrapped their heart up in 12 layers of bubble wrap, some brown paper, a corrugated cardboard box and then put it inside a structure made of steel and glass, turned the key in the lock and then threw it away forever.  They are safe.  Because there are a million ways to break a human heart.

But that pain, the blinding, choking pain that makes you wish you were dead, that makes you think you could chew glass and swallow it without batting an eyelash, that physical sensation that your gut and heart are being wrenched in ways which they were not meant to go, cannot go... that is also the measure of our capacity for joy- because hearts that are closed up in paper and plastic and steel and glass cannot feel the heat of the sun or hear the singing birds or bask in the quicksilver glory of it all when the stars all line up and the universe shines like diamonds over us. 

If someone were to ask me right now, this very minute, to distill the meaning of my life down to one word, it would be this:  love.  Without it, we are nothing- we are lost, we are alone, we are useless, spinning needles on broken compasses.  We go nowhere for noone.  We breathe, we smile, we even dance but without love we are no one and we are nothing and we have nothing to give.  When we do love someone, no matter how deeply we bury it, it is always there like that annoying helium balloon one tries to hold down.  Love wants to rise- so we let it, let our heart out to the very end of that fine, tenuous, trembling string that embodies so much hope.   How can you not?

And what do you do with a broken heart? You let the people that love you piece it back together again.  We don't like scars... we try to minimize them, keep them from developing... but the interesting thing is that when you break a bone or slice your skin- that place where it knits together again, while it may never be the same, may even be a bit ugly but it is stronger than it was before.

Sometimes we just need some good old Henry Rollins:

Don't do anything by half.  If you love someone, love them with all your sould.  When you go to work, work your ass off.  When you hate someone, hate them until it hurts.

It isn't always easy.  Let's all just make sure we have each other's back's, okay?

Here comes the sun.

First, congrats to Rob and Nicole on gettin' hitched.  We love Rob and I have quickly come to find that we love Nicole.  When I first heard that Rob was getting married again, I was concerned.  I'll admit it, Rob is one of those people that, well, I just really wanted to see him with someone that would make him happy and love him to death because he is such an absolutedly great guy.  He's been there for both Dean and me during some rough times and god, put up with alot of really bad bidding with alot of good nature back in the days of bridge club.  But lo and behold, Rob found himself an amazing, beautiful, sweet and charming woman with whom he tied the knot yesterday.  It was a bizarre aggregation of people from various aspects of past and present, but the reception at Rose Pistola was fabulous- fabulous food, fabulous wine and fabulous people.  And so wonderful to see one of my favorite people so happy and someone who I think will soon be added to my list of good friends, also, unabashedly in love her new husband.

So, to Rob and Nicole, as we say in da biz- Cheers!

What else has been going on?  Went up to a client on Wednesday.  We kicked out a bunch of work and then got a nice luch to-go from Dean and DeLucca and picniced under this faulous tree, next to this fabulous vineyard.  It was... fabulous.  It is nice when you can carve out a slice of heaven during the work day to get back to yourself and remind yourself that the world goes on and is beautiful no matter what happens within the confines of those conferences rooms.  It doesn't hurt that the client contact and I have much hilarity when we're not trying to be all impressive and professional since we have the same juvenile sense of humor. 

We had our awards ceremony for soccer.  This is always a happy time for the girls and a sad time for me.  After all, they get their trophies and pizza and I have to say goodbye- sometimes just til next season, sometimes for good- to girls that I've watched grow and change.  Soccer has been an amazing experience for me from a coaching perspective because I've been able to see my girls really come into their own, develop confidence and skill and learn what it is to be a part of a team.  May seem like a game, fun... just a sport.  But the lessons they learn out on the field are alot of the things that will sustain them through difficult times in life- relying on one another, communication, good judgement, sportsmanship, the power of attitude... and of course, how to have fun.

To top it all off, Andy convinced me it was time to give the hair a chop again.  I was playing around with the idea of letting it grow out but since I am not blessed with that thick, yummy hair that some people have, when it starts getting long, I start looking a little flat.  Yep.  Flat is bad. Andy is my pal.  He makes me laugh alot.  He knows *everyone*.  Like, did you know he learned how to put in extensions from the same guy that does Jessica Simpsons extensions?!?! AND, he has a friend who works at Tiffany's and he's sure he can get me some discount merchandise.  Hey, as long as it isn't fake and it isn't hot, I'm down with that.  And when I tell Andy I want purple hair, he tells me he is giving me purple hair only he doesn't.  But it looks pretty good anyway, even if it isn't PURPLE-purple. 

Andy likes horses, too.  He rode Cosette once and I think she took a few years off his life.  It was pretty funny to watch him trotting around on her.  Andy made me feel his thigh today because he's taking one of those ever-loving 'boot camp' classes and thinks(because he must be very, very high) he might convince me to get up early on a Sunday morning to go with him. Uh uh.  Not because I don't like Andy, but the thought of paying someone to yell at me to exercise harder... uh, yeah.  The only motivation I need is to go put on my 7's, which actually can be considered an excercise session in and of itself since that usually requires an aerobic workout of similar magnitude to, say, a spinning class.

Anyhow, so Andy talked me out of growing out my hair, so it's bobbed again.  Dean liked it.  I like the color. I guess I am just going to have to face the fact I'm never going to be one of those women with long, beautiful hair that I so covet.  I suppose if having short hair is the worst thing that happens to me in life... oh, wait, I have had WAY worse shit happen... and in light of that, I should damn well be able to have rapunzel hair if I want it. 

And looking at these photos- I've decided the next surgical procedure I'm going for is a nose job.  Then I can be a snob with a nose job and a bob who also happens to be a slob and like corn on the cob.  Andy and I sure have alot of fun together, especially consdering I am a horrible client since I can't sit still for five minutes and I always want my hair ten different colors.

On to more serious matters. *Yawn* I'm tired.  I'll write more tomorrow.

House: open with sun rising.

 Our evening's plans were somewhat thwarted by the fact that Vi had open house at her school- which I had completely forgotten? not known about? whatever... Anyhow, so that Dean could come, too, I threw the girls in the car and dashed over to Google to pick him up.  He'd been at You Tube and shuttled down to Google.  By the time we got done with open house, it was cool and windy and getting late- so lame parental folk that we are, we decided the girls needed to not be out until 11 swimming like they were last night.  So, instead we took them out for a pitcher of beer, watched the A's game and had a big yummy pizza at the Pizza Depot. Uh, root beer, that is.

Vi's open house was fabulous.  She showed off her work.  She is not the reader that I was but apparently, she is the mathematical genius that Dean was.  She is at the top of her class in math and science- Dean loves the math bit.  He even designed a computer program for her when she was struggling through her timed tests(she loses it under time pressure) and now she is kicking butt on those.  I love all the artwork the kids do.  She had her autobiography out for us to read.  She also wrote a book this year and her teacher had it published... pretty nifty.  Love her teacher, as well.  Vi was very excited to introduce Avery around(blow me over with a feather) and was being quite big-sisterly to her.

Busy day tomorrow... I am off to Napa to see a client and then we have our soccer awards dinner.  I had even worked tings out so that Kendyl would drive Vi out to the ranch to meet me on my way back so Vi could ride, but looks like Vi wants to wait until she has her water bottle and saddle pad to cushify her booty in the saddle.  Hopefully Friday.  She is excited for the awards ceremony because promised a pinata... heh.  Maybe I should require they kick the pinata, it is soccer after all.

In other news, Dean is coming right along on the guitar and playing House of the Rising Sun which.. ahhh.. love... I am so in love.  It sounds so amazing.  I am going to embarrass the hell out of him and record him with the flip and my pro voice recorder I got for doing interviews and put him up on You Tube and send it to all the relatives.  He secretly loves the attention.  I can tell.  No, really.

Bestest weekend ever.

If ever I am old and alone, trapped in my bed or my body, if I am ever mortally wounded or lost far from the ones I love, these- these are the days, the moments that I will wrap myself up in my mind.

Truly there could not have been a more perfect sky, more perfect day, more perfect ride than yesterday's.  The main thing that was different for me as that Vi was with me.  If there is no disappointment like that of a child who refuses to pick up your joy and carry it, then there is no greater exhaltation than that of your child picking up one of the great passions of your life as her own.

But let me back up a day because it wasn't just yesterday that was great. Oh, no.  Saturday found us keeping out of the heat at the pool at the club.  I think the pictures say more than I ever could, but I'll try to do them justice.  We were just having way too much fun in the family locker room: Dean showing off his big muscle(s), Avery shaking her booty, Vi giving everyone rabbit ears.

Do love that my kids are such little water rats.  I have no idea what I would do with kids that were eithr afraid of or didn't like the water. (It's not like you can return them as defective now, can you?)  Luckily, Vi and Ave took like fish to the water.  Vi is especially taken with the water although Ave does her share of swimming on er own, jumping off the diving board and doing 'super jumps' from the side of the pool which usually result in that painful, belly-flopping sound.  Since the kids were being so goofy in the locker room, I started snapping pics with my iPhone and at one point caught a shot of Vi's nudie booty.  Of course, that's all she's been talking about since: "Mom took a picture of my naked butt!" So, now I figure I'm going to get investigated by CPS or hell, just hauled off, because of an iPhone and the family lockeroom at ClubSport. (See my "cat that ate the canary" face?)

We had a good swim, though.  I almost passed out in the hottub but that's just how I like it: hot!    Afterward, I went and picked up In & Out Burger which has the best burgers ever and we all sat around the kitchen counter and ate our burgers. 

We had a bit of a heat wave this weekend.  Love the heat because it means I can swim without freezing.  Don't love the heat when it means sweltering in the house and/or car waiting for people to get ready to go places. Also don't enjoy the fact that the neighbors air conditioner unit sits on a pad right outside our bedroom so as we toss and turn, sweating up the sheets, trying to get to sleep, we get to listen to that beast blow hot air in our bathroom.  Yeah, cause we need ore hot air around this place. Heh.

Sunday dawned a hot and glorious, blue-skied morning that had "perfect day for riding" scrawled across the horizon.  I shouted at Vi to get her riding clothes on and "Let's go!".  We threw it together, jumped in the car and were off.  Vi wore her pink cowgirl boots and her red cowgirl hat which later would make a perfect bucket for Foxy to drink from.  We had a small group: Shawn, Maram, Haylie, Vi and I.   No Liz, so Vi had the good fortune to ride Power.  She got a little toasty out on the trail so we kept the ride a little short.  Shawn was awesome and ended up ponying her from Foxy (my almost 3 year old filly) when she started looking like she was going to wilt.  Look at Foxy's ears pointing up and ahead as they are going through the water- she is so willing.  When she has a job to do, I think that draft side of her kicks in and she is ready to go to work.  At the water crossing at one pont and Tink, who Haylie was riding, didn't quite know what to do and got left on the far bank, not wanting to get into the water.  Apollo and I went back for her and as we got almost to her, she jumped in and then ran through and out the other side, completely splashing me in the process.  Woke me up for sure but felt good in the heat.  (Haylie is on the Palamino- Tink).  Vi had a great time but was glad when we got back to the parking lot and the water fountain and bathroom.  She has demanded I get her a water bottle for her saddle and a pad so it won't be so hard on her butt.  When she said that, Shawn totally laughed and said- welcome to my world..."  Yes, the life of the cowboy/girl... bruises and sore butts, shoulders that pop in and out at will, trick backs and knees and ponies, crazy horses and lazy, sun-drenched trail rides...  Lots of people refer to my horses as my hobby, my sport, a family activity, our pets... and yes, the horses are all these things but more, it is something that is bred in my bones and it is my life's passion.  It is also one of my great loves.  I know that I will ask on my deathbed to be carried out to my horses.  Someday, when I have my farm or ranch(depending on what part of the country we end up in, of course...) I dream of a place where all my horses will live out their whole lives in happy comfort and then when it is over, we'll all rest together as we played and rode together.  I guarantee you, there can't be a heaven without horses. 

Just a little bit like that.

So, this afternoon was... amazing.  I debated over whether or not to write about this here.  Things are oh-so-fragile right now for us all that I do want to try and be careful.  But I discussed with Dean and I think he likes that I write and I feel like he respects that part of me.  I have always maintained that aside for me and my own personal decompression- this blog is to serve as a very intimate and personal record that someday when my girls are old enough to possibly begin to understand... well, they will have this to know and hopefully understand a bit better what not only I was about but who they are and how they got to be that way.  But secondary to all of that, I do feel like so often we are alone.  We live in houses stacked almost on top of one another and yet we are very much alone a great deal of the time.  We drown out the silence of our loneliness with televisions and computers and shopping and work and stuff, yes, we fill every nook and cranny with stuff to push back that silence. 

I feel like when I come here and write and I tell the truth as I see it, even if it is not really the truth or even close to it because my perception of reality is so warped... I feel at least like I am reaching across that gap, through the silence.  Because, really, we're all beautiful and unique but we're also so much the same.  I hate that we are fed lies and fantasy our whole lives that tell us what we are supposed to be, how to behave and what living right looks like.  So, yes, sometimes I talk about things that are no one's business but mine or things that are between me and my spouse or my family.  I don't do it to violate them.  I do it to record it and reflect on it and then I also do it to unveil my own little piece of this life so others can see.  I get to be real here.  And maybe, just maybe that helps someone else who feels they are drowning or that no one can see them or that they are trapped or hopeless. 

Let the record state that my life raft doesn't turn anyone away.  Come and get in my boat with me. 

And I have also found it to be true that once you put stuff out where other people can see it- it does lose some of its power.  Things can hide out and be scary in the dark.

Maybe it's just that I'm a Leo and I like people to look at me.  Maybe I should rename my blog "My Name is ME!"  What's funny is while I do splatter my personal stuff all over the place on this blog... it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface...

Anyhow, back to what I was going to write about... Dean and I were working in our 95 degree kitcen/dining room this afternoon and I said, "We need to talk, do you have a second to talk?"  And we went to the bedroom and... yeah, so we both were kinda thinking we were going to be getting some but then it was hot and we actually started talking...  We talked about an encounter we had the other night.  I'd been a little frustrated because on the rare occasion when I am not in the mood for sex, I really am just not in the mood and I don't want to set myself up(and Dean) for failure.  And I kinda just wanted Dean to go, "How great is this? I have a wife that wants to give me a blow job and I don't have to do anything in return! Kickass!"  But instead, he kept trying to get me involved.  But we worked through it and it was actually a very good, intimate moment.  Anyhow, we ended up talking about that again today and Dean said to me, "You have to feel free to tell me a bunch of times if I am doing somethng you don't want me to do." and then I said, "Okay, but I know you were trying to make me feel good and I didn't want you to feel rejected."  Anyhow and then I started explaining why sometimes things don't always work- if I am stressed or distracted or tired, etc and it can be alot of pressure because you don;t want your partner to feel that *they* have anything to do with it when really it's just not enough sleep or a nagging deadline in the back of one's head or just not feeling it. 

With all this talk we both kinda settled in realizing that the afternoon nookie moment had passed, being usurped instead by nookie discussion.  Somehow the conversation wandered into the territory of something I'd read about each partner taking responsibility for his or her own orgasm.  So my suggestion was, in the future let's agree- to make it our own responsibility to get our orgasm if we want it- which basically boils down to communication.  So then Dean raised the question of "What do I do if I'm about to be done and I don't know if you're ready and it might be too soon?"  I said, "You tell me where you're at and I'll tell you where I'm at."  I told him one book recommended that the female partner ensures she's orgasmed before intercourse even occurs so then the male partner can just party and hey, if she orgasms again, icing on the cake.  Dean pointed out that if I orgasmed before intercourse then maybe I'd be 'bored'... uh, no.  News flash, guys, things can feel extremely pleasureable for a woman and not require orgasm at all to be pretty damn fulfilling.  But then I did agree that is is great to have orgasms during intercourse and I wouldn't want to relegate myself to always coming before the party even really got started, heh.  So then I showed Dean a little trick that I, uh, figured out while masturbating that can pretty much guarantee, if my head is in the right place (oh ho heh ho and his too!)(meaning I am not too distracted, tired or hormonal) a great orgasm.  He was like.. "This? Here?" And I was like "Ah, a little lower.."

And then, oh my god, we had like the most fantastic sex we've had in... years.  And it was totally spontaneous because we were just talking and then... 

So let me just tell you folks, communication- it is a powerful thing.  And afterwards, we laid there and oh, it felt so fantastic to just be good, happy, fulfilled- however briefly.  And I am so glad that I stopped working for a few minutes to invite Dean to have a conversation...  And hey, if that's what I get out of having a conversation like that, then I'll have it ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times over... because we need to talk, we need to keep talking.  It really is important.

And is everything fixed because we had some awesome sex? No, but it was a step in the right direction.  And that is how you walk a mile or run a marathon, one foot in front of the other, repeat.

So, then we went our seperate ways to grab the girls.  Vi decided she wanted to go see a play at her school rather than go riding with me.. :( so we'll try to go tomorrow.  And Ave crashed because she had a late night last night, and early morning both yesterday and today and it is hot, hot, hot. 

I'm excited because I have a favorite skirt- got it years ago from the Gap and I spilled some bleach on it.  I wear it even with the faded splotch from the bleach- it is white with royal blue flowers.  Anyhow, Margaret gave me the idea to find a seamstress who could take it apart and make a pattern from it.  So, as I watch Ave sleep here, I am browsing cotton prints, looking for just the right one.  In actuality, I'll probably have her make about three because it is, literally, my ideal skirt- it is lined with a very light cotton, it falls perfectly- LOVE it.  Look at me today- blogs and sex and skirts. 

One more thing- I am always a fan of finding beauty in unexpected places.  You know I love roses, right?  Well, yesterday I was going to Napa to see one of my clients and of course had to hit the drive-through Starbucks in American Canyon.  They've thrown up a Wal*Fart there now and across from the Starbucks is a Payless Shoes and Radioshack... whatever... crappy stripmall goodness.  But someone went to the trouble of planting these amazing red roses all throughout the parking lot and they are blooming like there is no tomorrow, blooming MADLY, and just gorgeous.  What I am feeling- hope that we can intertwine passion into the love we already have to create something amazing, trepidation that I will inevitably stumble and fall- I do so love to get my hopes up and put all my eggs in one basket and of course, do it all RIGHT THIS MINUTE.  But why not- why not?  Why can't it be great?  If these roses can grow up in the middle of trash and next to a yellow fire hydrant, why the hell not?

I haz Miz Mooooooooooz!

Okay, just made my day- I about threw the DHL guy to the ground and pounced upon him as he was delivering my Miz Mooz shoes which are da freaking bomb.  I LOVE them.

Just tell me these are not the yummiest of yummy shoes and key- KEY- they are sooo comfortable while being absolutely amazingly cute.

Hmm.  Did you know I could gush over shoes like this?  Betcha did.  Yes, I am lost, a pathetic slave to fashion and lemming-like supporter of the murdering of innocenct cows to turn their hides into these fabulous frocks for my feet.

Always put your best foot forward.

Never get between a woman and her children.  Or her shoes.

Today's ride has been cancelled.  Vi is going to be ticked at me but I am going to make it up to her on Friday.  They are coming to rewire the house phone which hasn't worked in weeks and I've been having to do all my work calls from my cell phone which has resulted in a ridiculous, RIDICULOUS bill- however, AT&T kicked ass for me the other day and actually gave me a new rate plan and post-dated it back several months so now I have like an $2K credit.  Who does that?  I mean who gets lucky with the phone company, ever?  That never happens to me.  Geez.  A friend said I should go buy a lottery ticket- I oughta while I've got the midas touch. :) 

I have a Coldstone gift card sitting here next to my computer.  Ice cream anyone? :)

Quick, before I fall asleep.

I swear, I have sleeping sickness.  Or, uh, hmm, maybe I'm anemic.  That just now occurred to me.  WTF?

Tonight was FANTASTIC!  I managed to coax one of my coworkers into giving up her ticket to this year's Pink Out! which is a celebration and tasting of all wines pink.  No, it wasn't a giant White Zin tasting- it was more about the Roses which are supposedly a little more upscale. 

Dean and I drove down to Pier 33 to Butterfly, the restaurant where the event was being held.  They checked us in at the door and we collected our glasses and wine list.  We tried a few wines and almost immediately ran into a few of my coworkers. We stayed for a bit.  The appetizers were good but lots of seafood.  Eventually, Dean and I decided to take advantage of our babysitting and go get some dinner.  I called Aziza to see if we could get in, only to find they were closed on Tuesdays.  So we decided to do what we used to do- just drive until we found something that struck our fancy.  Sure enough, we ended up in a little place we'd never been before- Eritrean Food served family atyle and eaten with our hands.  It was a nice dinner.

I especially enjoyed driving home in the car an jut talking until I got too sleepy and Dean took over.  I ended up dozing off, waking as we pulled into the driveway with our two little kidlets peeping out from behind the curtains.

Dean and I had fun tonight,  You know, we've been working hard and everything, which is good and all... but this was even better because it wasn't hard work.  It was just easy and fun.  The city was beautiful tonight after a beautiful, sunny day.  And it was nice to remember how it is to be happy and have it be easy...  Tomorrow, Vi and I ride since we are starting a new tradirion of Wednesday afternoon rides.  Looking forward to that but now it is time to sleep )

Where the heart is.

Coming home this afternoon was wonderful.  It was wonderful to find Dean waiting for me as I came through the gate into baggage claim and the girls running up to me.  Dean drove me home and I put a few things away, gave the girls their gifts and almost immediately snuggled up with Dean for a nap that turned into a marathon sleep session.  I was up late last night making a horse charm bracelet for Maggie and a sterling flower necklace for Milli as their First Communion gifts.  I am also crafting them rosaries out of pearls and swarovski crystals but that is going to take me like a million years as I have to wire each pearl and bead.

The Communion went off fabulously- the girls looked like angels.  (Milli is the younger and Maggie is the older one).  I was so proud to be Milli's godmother- she and Maggie are both daughters of my heart and I would snatch them up in a moment if anything ever happened to Marg and Gordon. 

I don't go to Mass very often, but when I do, it is always the strangest thing- today the priest spoke of vocations and how being the best for the world was to follow your bliss.  Yes, follow your bliss.  This is what I want to do.  So, there was a reason for me to be there and hear those words today. I don't care what anyone says.   Those words just resonated in me, ten-fold, a hundred-fold, a thousand-fold.  Follow your bliss.

There were some ups and downs this week.  It isn't easy- no, never terribly easy.  What I have come to realize, though, is that we must just try our hardest to hold onto the happiness, see the good, feel the joy- everywhere and all the time.  To not do that is to waste precious moments that cannot be won back.  We must stop giving our whole selves away and asking "Where's mine?"- instead, understand that "mine" is in the giving- that is what gives us joy... if it is.  If it doesn't give you joy then you shouldn't do it.  Give what you are willing to give.  And only that.

I came away from this weekend feeling quite rich in love- both in what I left behind me in Seattle- good, dear friends to the end, family of my heart and soul- and what I came home to here in California- family, my sweet little girls who I love more than life and my cute, sweet, funny husband who squeezed me tight and kissed me hard and told me how much he missed me and loved me and then let me fall asleep against his shoulder.

I love it.  How I love my life... back to it now.

Girls again.

I flew up to Seattle on Wednesday evening.  Fantastic.  For once going without a work agenda- really just to enjoy myself and my friends.  My goddaughter is having her First Communion on Sunday and her sister is the star of the play/musical Suessical and I absolutely had to see it because Maggie is a super-fab girl.  I've never met a 13 year old that I liked, let alone wanted to hang with and ride horses with.

Feeling a little guilt at having left my own girls behind but sometimes moms need to recharge their batteries and remember what life was like before they had to put on their mommy-face all the time.  If that applies to anyone, that's me right now.  The fantastic thing is I've been missing Dean like crazy.  We had goodbye-for-now sex in the shower the other morning and I felt like something cold and hard just melted away inside me.  I think it is good for me to be away now so I can examine that a bit.  But we've been calling every few hours to check in, even just to say "hi" and "I love you" when before I could have gone a whole business trip without hearing from him.  He said, "I'm trying really hard."  And you know what? God. I believe it, I really do, and it matters and it makes a difference.

Just know that if it falls through, my dear friends, you're going to have to come and rescue me from the bottom of a margarita pitcher. 

I took Vi riding on Wednesday afternoon.  She wore her new pink cowgirl boots with silver toes and her cowgirl hat and she was the bomb.  She rode Power like she'd been riding forever.  Thanks Lizzie for giving me the opportunity to take some special mommy-daughter time and bond with my girl who is struggling in some other ways.  Dean says that since she has been completely together- no breakdowns, no frustration tantrums.  We all need to feel special and amen if the horse isn't the way to a little girl's heart and soul.  Pictures next week as it will be a regular program for us. Kicking myself I didn't do this sooner.

Arrived here to the open arms of Margaret, one of the best of my besties.  The air was crackling around us with our combined energy.  We spent our first night at the Sahalish Lodge overlooking Snoqualmie Falls- like sisters in our giant kind sized bed and the cute bell hop made us a huge crackling fire and we snuggled down in our jammies.  I had the first night of real sleep I've had in 8 years.

Yesterday was an adventure.  We had a fantastic room service breakfast and then headed for Seattle to go to the doctor.  I'm going to fess up now- I had botox to get rid of the frown line between my eyes that has driven me crazy for ages.  Then... yes! there's more! I got that filler stuff to get rid of the deep wrinkle lines next to my mouth- left my smile lines because I love my smile lines- just those permanent ones that run from the corner of my nose down.  Then I got my face zapped with the laser to get rid of my acne scars from that freaking mirena IUD.  Did I mention that I pulled my IUD out myself? TMI? Anyhow, since it has been out, the horrible cystic acne I've been battling on both cheeks and forehead has healed almost entirely but left some pretty dark scarring.  I was very self-conscious of this because even as a teenager I never had acne and to suddenly get it in my early thirties? WTF?  Yeah, so I'll be popping up here to Seattle to get a couple more laser treatments.  You can say what you will about the whole cosmetic enhancement stuff, but I work in sales and it makes a difference.  I feel better, too, so if they can do something that has relatively little risk and actually didn't cost me all that much... why the hell not?  But I digress.  Marg and I then hit the mall and did a little retail therapy.  I got a gorgeous London Times dress in my favorites of favorite blues, a fabulous Juicy Couture black sweater that is classic and was 75% off(and I have no qualms about spending money on a long black sweater because everyone who knows me knows I am always cold and almost always wearing one of my long black sweaters- it is the new coat).  Then I found a beautiful purple, fuchsia and black printed skirt- Kenneth Cole. Sweeeet.  Fits like a dream and will go great with my demure little black cardigan from Banana.

After shopping and Starbucks, we headed out for dinner at a mexican place that used to be my fav when we lived up here so many years ago.Got my usual fajitas burrito- half is still in my mini fridge.  Then we checked into the Downtown Bellevue Hyatt which is fabulous-fabulous.  Got dressed in ur pretty new party clothes because Joey's was hopping downstairs.  Got a little wild because it wouldn't be a girl's night without a little wild mischief to get up to.  Marg snapped a couple of pics because I rarely get to put on my dancing shoes except whenever I feel like it. I just had to show off my cute little blue dress and I couldn't get over how pretty the lights in the courtyard outside our room were.  The view from the room was great.  The company was great.  We had a great time.  This has been an amazing week for me- reconnecting with a friend who is so very close to my heart who I thought might be slipping away, having a setback with my fabulous hunny and working through it to come out better on the other side, discovering a whole new side to my daughter and watching her blossom before my very eyes, finally being able to see Margaret again and pampering ourselves with fun and laughter, missing home- feeling so alive and happy I could just burst.  Love it all. Life is a sweet ride.

 

Is it midnight yet?

I need this day to be OVER.  F--- Cinco de Mayo.  I'm sorry, this has rapidly become my least favorite holiday. 

Look, I need to tell you all, this mothering thing is hard on a good day but on a bad day?  I'm just glad there wasn't a thermos of Jonestown Koolaid in my fridge tonight or I would have been sugaring the rim of my favorite margarita glass and pouring me up a cool one.

Kendyl picked the girls up for me as I was trying to finish a project for work.  She comes in and tells me that on the way home the girls had been saying some bad words in the back seat.  And the thing is, when they get going, they wind each other up, egg each other on and think it is funny as all get out.  What were they saying? Oh, you don't even want to know.  Let's say the "shit" portion sounds sweet compared to the other half. Yeah.  My sweet little 5 and 8 year old babies talking like truck drivers. (Do as I say girls, don't say as I say)

So, I start in on them because that's my job.  I say to Vi and Ave, "What do I have to do? Wash your mouths out with soap? You know you aren't supposed to talk like that. You know."  I rant, I rave.  I am outside my body watching my mother possess me and say all the things my mother would have said to me.  Only my mom didn't just threaten the bar of soap, oh no.  But here I was, being her to my girls.  No, I was being me. ME.  UGH.  Then I tell them to go clean their room without a peep- no talking to each other.  So, seems like things are going okay and I lift the no talking rule and put Vi in charge of the effort.  In my head I'm thinking it will be a good chance for her to see wat it is like for me trying to get them to do things like clean their room.  Well, she ends up trying to coerce Ave into doing what she wants by threatening to throw the rose I gave Ave(which she so carefully put in a vase on her windowsill in the sun with water and said "I'll take very, very good care of it Mommy")out the window.  Well, Vi finally threw the rose out the window. Ave comes out crying.  I make Ave and Vi go retrieve the rose at which point all 5 dogs come gallumping through the kitchen into the dining room and Boo freaks out, rolls over on his back and sprays pee all over me and the other dogs.  Did I mention he has a submissive peeing problem?  Vi is laughing hysterically which just proceeds to piss me off, so she gets stuck with clean up duty while I herd the dogs out.

Dean comes in and somehow he and Vi end up in the middle of it again over why she threw he rose out the window.  He starts threatening her that he's going to take her on a walk... he loves to have a little death march around the block, in the dark, as means of punishment.  Gee, where does she learn the whole threat tactic as a way to get Ave to do her bidding?  See, I like to go for a walk, so I resent this because I think it makes the girls associate the physical activity of walking with punishment whereas tv is a reward.  Doesn't seem right to me.  I find myself defending Viola and challenging Dean on his whole walk-as-a-way-to-torture-the-children program.  Anyhow.  Vi goes in to Ave and tells her loudly so I can hear, "Maybe I would rather go on a walk with Papa than get my mouth washed out with soap by Mama."  Real snarky-like.  I'm done, I can't take it.  I ask Dean to get my suitcases down.  I'm in the middle of what Marg and I call a "shower curtain moment".  Dean is just acting like nothing is happening, gives me a couple of sentences about his basketball game at work and turns his back on me to do the dishes.  Invisible.  I realize, this is what I feel like.  It is that drowning feeling where everyone is on shore smiling and laughing and I'm going under and no one is noticing.  Not no one, one person in particular.  Yes.

Finally, I go in to Vi- ask her if I can come in her room.  She lets me in and I go lay on the bottom bunk.  I tell her I'm sorry for being a shitty mother.  Then I completely break down and cry and tell her I'm sorry again, that I didn't want to be my mother, that it wasn't supposed to be like this.  I told her that when I was her age I thought it was going to be great, that I would be great, that I would do everything differently.  But I haven't, and I'm sorry. 

Then Dean went out and brought me back an iced tea lemonade.  That was nice but I really could have used someone to talk to, maybe even a hug.  And here I am, on the computer because I have to have some comfort right now, some way to feel better. 

And now I think, if this was a horse I would have just fallen off.  And what would I do?  I would brush myself off, and get back on and walk.  So, I guess that's what I have to do now.  First, walk. Walk.  That's all I have to do.

Okay. I'm going to go walk now. (Did I mention this is hard and it sucks? And I'd get bucked off a horse any day rather than this?)  Probably left some details out but you get it, rough night here for me.

At least there's this:

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

--Rainer Maria Rilke

In Memoriam

I never had much opportunity to get to know my dear friend Margaret's mother terribly well.  Despite that, shortly after Viola was born- a little pink sweater, hand-knit, arrived in the mail from Marg's mom.  Viola will finger the yarn of that tiny sweater someday when she goes through the box of memories I've saved from her baby years and know that someone made that for her. 

My grandmother, when she was in the hospital in her 80's said "I miss my mother.  No matter how old I get, I still miss her." 

Yes, I wish that people didn't have to miss their mothers, ever.

A letter from my friend today:

Dear Amigos,

Today is a muy muy (mal) importante day for me and mine....Today is the cinco anniversary of my mother's death.  The fifth anniversary of the worst day of my life...so far...

My mother was a great woman.  She was great before she was my mother and will always be the Great Kathleen Margaret.  She was 80 when she passed, but she was/will always be forever 35 to me.  She was 35 when she gave birth to me, relatively old for the 1960's, but she was always ahead of her time.

Gramma Kay had hooked up her new(new to her, from her daughter-in-law, Steph) computer and gone to her senior stretch class and played on the floor with my girls, just the month before her death.  She was witty, she was limber(tied her shoes bending over at the waist with one hand), she was smart as a whip(was 2 credits away from her doctorate{but she was at the top of her pay scale, so who needs a paper saying blah blah blah just to put another diploma in her underwear drawer), she was so many things...

Cinco De Mayo is so fitting of day for her to pass, as we all know she loved the Southwest, and she loved a Margarita...' Ma'am are you finished?  Oh, I'm not from Phoenix, my cousin, here, is from Scottsdale, but I am from Las Vegas.'  To this day, if anyone asks a member of our family if we are:  'finished,' we reply, no we're not from Phoenix, we're from Las Vegas...' tehetehe...The Irish in her made her laugh and cry easily, (and just a little hopping mad..)...

My mother was the 'consummate' teacher, everything and everywhere she took the opportunity to teach, she loved words and the English language and she loved the proper use of any, no wait...she appreciated the proper use of the English language.(period)  The 'English' in her made her appreciate things and words done properly,(if she was alive, she would own a Dyson vacuum, no doubt, it would join her 1950's Singer sewing machine and her Rowenta iron, she loved a well operating appliance, but never ever never ever ever a crock-pot)...

Unfortunately, it was the teacher in her, how I mostly broke her heart...When I was about 8 or 9 years old, I said, 'why can't you just be my mom first instead of always my teacher..?'  Well, she sent my sassy butt to a tutor guy friend of hers for a year after that statement.  He was a nice guy, a great teacher, and as my dad said, 'a bit light in the loafers,' but I swear he tutored me not so much in reading, writing and arithmetic, as in what a FABulous mother I had.  Be careful what you wish for, I mean really how can a mother not be a teacher?  My mother has been dead for five years and she teaches me something new everyday.

I love you, mom.  I love you, my teacher! 'I can't do me own self,'
Hail all teachers,
Hail all earthly mothers,
Hail all heavenly mothers,
Hail Mary! Pray for us!

Love,
Margaret Elsie
(Elsie, my mother's aunt, who at 18 paid for my mother(who was 8 and had lost her mother) to have dance lessons and other goodies, I mean who helps a motherless 8 year old at 18?  A great woman, a great aunt, a great aunt Elsie, a great TEACHER!

I has a pretty flower.

Good monday morning.  The weekend flew by and since I spent a good portion of it yacking up my guts, I got very little accomplished.  Yes, I managed to get well enough for my Sunday ride but not well enough to do more than a couple of load of laundry.  Funny how that works. Geez.

Chocolate.  Yep.  He's a cutie.  He has big ears, but he does cute things with them.  It's not what ya got, it's what ya do with whatcha got, right?  Anyhow, I tried to get some pictures of Chocolate with Chip but they are always on the move which makes photographing them difficult to say the least.  Yes, Chip is still here. Liz thinks it is a conspiracy to keep him from her.  Really, though, like we need another dog?  We still need to find a home for Jenny(the mama) and a home for Boo because we've decided we just can't give him enough attention.  Boo is always up in everyone's business.    Anyhow, did get a few pics of Chocolate and Chip fighting over an old grape.  Yeah, spoils to the victor go and all that.  Chocolate has the funniest expressions.  Here he is apparently wondering if his food dish is going to get up and walk away while he's "sitting" for me.   

Today is the first day of Teacher Appreciation Week at Viola's school.  These are the roses that went with Vi to school today- fresh from the garden.   The peachy clored ones are Evelyns while the darker, purple-y ones are Sterling(gone slightly awry with my shitty gardening skills) and the crimson one is a William Shakespeare.  Of course, the Evelyns are my favorite.  They all smell heavenly, exactly how a rose should smell.  Do love David Austen roses- simply cannot compare.  I have also ordered Vi's teacher a Tiffany necklace because she is the most fantastic teacher Vi has had to date and I think good teachers should be rewarded.  And hey, it isn't much but who doesn't like to get a little blue box, right?  The roses I cut to put on our counter are making the place smell absolutely heady.  Do love the roses.  Speaking of which, my little hybrid tea out front that I was going to rip out because it "wasn't anything special" has just gone absolutely gangbusters blooming- hundreds of blooms and buds- all variegated deep orange and yellow.  So, I guess he stays.  He's earned his keep.