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Saturday, May 3, 2014


When there is such a distance between posts I lose my writing cadence.  It is difficult for me to continue a conversation that I haven't been carrying for a while. I am sorry about that. I am of the world still: my house is messy, flower beds need weeding, chickens need catching, the car or truck needs an oil change. I have been mentally battling with big big life issues and how to get my head around them ( oh, like death, disability, what a life is, how to approach endings) all the while dealing with the day to day. Such as why my car quit - just turned off- on the highway... how to gently squash a vindictive rumor mill at work, or where/how did I get coffee spilled on my socks?!? You know, that stuff that just happens.  It is the time of year for our annual party at the farm for both kids. So days off will be spent sprucing things up. Or at least, organizing. Sigh. 
Anyway, I know all our lives keep rolling along. Mine happens to be merrily, merrily, rolling along. I work a lot, (due at work in 45 minutes!) and plunk through everything else spastically.  I wish I could say I am a methodical planned organized woman... but that would be a lie. I do know how to enjoy this life, though!  Wishing you all balance and grace. 

Amanda and Fred keeping an eye on things on a spring day. 
Fuzzy image of Seattle from the ferry. 
The computer generated light patterns on the Ferris wheel can be mesmerizing when I am going home.  And yes, I am tired and maybe a little easily entertained at that point...

Wednesday, April 30, 2014


I was at a ginormous farmers market with my partner. I purchased food at a vendor, and for some reason I wrote this story about her, and us.
The gal of river tales spooling around Interstate-5, singing a song for the entertainment of customers, and perhaps to increase her tip jar.  To regale and entice as people ordered Mediterranean fare at a large outdoor community market.  It was women primarily being served-- at this moment, one from California, one from Washington.  Sacramento and Poulsbo, specifically.  River differences were discussed... the Willamette, Columbia, Mississippi.   Tale weavery of flow and slow sleepy hot rivers that bubble mercury pools when digging on the shoreline. Mississippi. Toxic to the hilt, but the community swimming hole nonetheless.  There was a comparison of rivers. Rivers further west don't catch on fire.  A gentle navigating of ferocious reactionary opinion.   Politics. Left, right, up, down.  The performer apologized and meant no insult as to her correction to liberal thought, thoughtfully though, and not to the actual woman who was being corrected. Apologies for words, not for thoughts.
Then, she faced the Washington  woman waiting her turn to pay for food, relatively uninvolved in the whole.  Once more the passive indirect is spoken.  Woman was gregarious and rolled with it as she took money. Recognized importance of unimportance. 

 Money was exchanged for food, talked more of rivers. Banter.  A man walks up, grabs fork from the jar and Washington woman's plate of food on the counter.  Mississippi river gal pauses in front of woman, watching man- "Oh! I couldn't see you together."                                        Ah, dear, but we are.

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