Over the river and through the redwoods to Daddy’s house I go
I am having my red thread cafe at The Benbow Inn, where I have stayed off and on throughout my life. It is familiar and reminds me of my beloved Grandmother Helen and… Read More
Category Archive: Random
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Dear Little Cousin
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the… Read More
Love had taken away my practices, a warning and losing my religion…
Desperately Seeking Sustenance: A sanctuary where I have a feeling when I walk in that GOD is in the house, a church with dancing and all kinds of brown people clapping and white people moving their hips, men and women leading together, honoring of Creator as masculine and feminine, if not as one, at least somehow ruling together, non-judgment of others while totally committed to spiritual path, reading of the Bible without a brimstone edge, a deep inquiry into the mystical, a few healers laying the hands on the sick and sorrowful, a feeling of connection and tribe with the folks, communion for those who love God, a few hats with feathers would be nice, organic coffee and good cake afterward, acceptance of images (icons) and an emphasis on creativity…LOVE at the center of everything. And it should be beautiful with candles lit. Ok. Now I am going overboard. Well we make lists for everything else: work, mates, money, why not a church? Mary are you listening? Bring me home Sweet Mama!
When the Tomatoes & the Yellow Squash squabble
Well Diva Mato responded the Yellow Squash, you look good when you are all red and blushing but right now your blooms are, ahem, rather smallish and most of your fruit is green! You emit a slight odor that seems unpleasant to the bees, who love us. But I must admit, the Human Bloom who comes to water us and lift us, do fuss over your tresses more than mine…I think I must be hardier!
Seven Ideas for A Grateful Holiday Feast
Reclaiming The Holy Days Seven Ideas for a Grateful Holiday Dinner for the one throwing the Party! Reclaiming The Holy Days Our home is a sacred place that we blessed to share with… Read More
My Morning: Sarah the spider, Gratitude Circles and Black Bean Soup
woke up EARLY so I could get to my writing table. But first there was the GIANT ant type creature I had to extract from the bathroom. Then I had to collect last nights dishes from their party strewn locations throughout the house, I cooked up a feast and as is custom in my house, we do not do the dishes on the night of the party.
The party was just Isaiah and I and our kitty, Shiniata, but in the soft starlight, listening to Emmylou Harris, and making yummie food and having fun constitutes a party.
So before I could get to the writing table, I remembered that I had put lima beans on to soak and had let them soak too long. So, I had to drain them and get the soup started. Last night I made Quinoa chicken, Isaiah made homemade salsa, and I got the fixins together for two soups, black bean and white bean. I put the black beans in the crock pot, and so they are done. But now I really should start the white beans. It will just take a minute. Draining the beans I see a VERY feisty spider in the sink. Had I not already dealt with a VERY feisty ant creature I may have tried to get her out of the sink that instant. But the an creature had jumping qualities that had kind of got me jumpy and so I watched and the spider too, was jumping, but not high enough to get out of the sink. I said to myself, let me drain the beans, I will avoid your part of the big white sink, then I will take you out. This did look like a biting kind of spider, but I do not kill spiders. So I drained my beans and got soup stuff out the fridge and kind of observed the spider moving about and jumping around. She seemed, well, fine to me. As if I could wait a few minutes to get to her. Very active she was. I put the white beans on the stove, cut the zucchini squash from my Auntie’s garden, I had baked into little chunks, and turned to the sink.
Sharing My Yoga Mat
When my face was down there I just made sure not to do a nose dive into his experience. We made it all the way through, and by the time dead bug pose came, he was gone and so was the sweat.
Evolution of A Punk Rock Princess on Highway 101
When I was a teenager one of the most important things to me was to be original. It was clear to me that not only did I not fit in, I did not want to. Even sometimes when I was able to “pull it off” by being normal enough or popular enough even for one day, I kind of felt sick to my stomach about it. At the time I did not have language for what I felt. But now I know that who I had to be in the world according to who other people expected me to be – was not who I actually was. But did I even know who I was? Not really. Life did not afford me that many opportunities to SEE or KNOW who I was and so I was in the dark, like many…
Causing Conversation Cafe, with my mom
We dedicate the entire meal to that conversation, and try to come up with actions steps we can take,
or write about in our poetry or paint about in paintings. This brings so much laughter and togetherness and we take turns choosing the topics.
Dreading Downward Dog
Imagine if the yoga teacher were to say,
now we are going to “build a dream” instead of back into “downward dog” which sounds more like
option number #82 in the sex guide for dummies.
