Practicing what I preach

It's one thing to philosophize about creating our own destinies....to reiterate that we, only we ourselves, are responsible for how we live our life, that the choices we make will dictate what happens to us and that if we don't like what we're getting, we'd best get off our collective duffs and change things.

It's another to accept it as fact. Especially when you love someone, like your kid, and nasty things are happening to her -- some of which is NOT her fault nor because of any choice she made or didn't make.

And it's even harder to accept that I cannot fix it. Mom the magnificent is powerless over people, places, and things. The ice weasels have been out buying party supplies.

She is not a child..definitely a grown woman, quite capable of making her own decisions (actually, that applies to all of them). They're all where they are because of choices they made on their own -- two of 'em with men who we've tried to accept that they love and see something in that isn't quite apparent to our parental eyes (rather more the opposite, if you wanna know).

And one of them demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has a mean, cruel streak and anger management issues. Fortunately, I guess, the daughter who's with him (it wasn't physical abuse) is seeing things a little more clearly and is talking about finding another roommate. Her illness, however, which is NOT her fault and for which she in treatment, leaves her in a very vulnerable place financially and emotionally.

So I'm trying to suggest possible resources and encouraging her to talk with her doctor. But what I want to do is rush in, get her out, and unleash a mother's fury on the guy.

And I can't. And I won't.

I'm telling her -- just as I have for years, and just as I've told her sister over and over again -- you live one day at a time. You do what you can with what you've got. If you don't like where you are, you find ways to change it. You ask questions of your doctors, your friends, of social agencies, of nonprofits that are there to help. You fill out applications and follow directions. You keep on doing that until you get the answers you need, the help you need. You CAN do it. You ARE strong and resourceful and smart. You can do whatever you decide you need to do.

And I pray that they are all safe, that they are strong enough to handle the grief, the anger, the embarrassment, the endless probing questions, the illness, the fear, the loneliness.

You are NOT alone, I tell them. I am here to make suggestions, to listen, to love you, to give you pep talks, to say 'there there', to cry with you sometimes. I will always be here to do that. I will always want to fix it for you. And I will never be able to do that. But YOU CAN.

That's what I say.

And then the ice weasels turn up the boom box so I can't hear myself say it to myself.

But I know it's true. At my core, I know that only they can make things different. And I just pray for them and hope they are strong enough to get through it.

Gratitude and grace

Our little group of friends gathered this weekend to mark another birthday among us -- not one of the "big" ones, but I'm beginning to think that celebrating birthdays at this stage in our lives is as important as it was back in grade school.

Then it was celebrating getting another year older, another year closer to more privileges, more fun, to adulthood. Now it's celebrating that we're another year older and not already dead, and that we're indeed blessed with friends we can party with!

Various conversations throughout the evening -- and someone commenting on how positive I always am -- made me stop and think about that. Sometimes I think I sound very "Pollyanna"-ish -- finding the gratitude in adverse situations, looking for the blessing. And I assured them that I have to work at it, that I'm not always just a bouncy bundle of joy and optimism.

It isn't that I don't recognize problems and bad things. I've had my share of depression over the years -- I have black, dark poetry from my college years to prove it! (Doesn't just about everyone!) I've gotten through some very bleak times with a little "better living through chemistry" help and some counseling a time or two.

Before 9/11, I was a classic news junkie -- read two newspapers daily, newsmagazine, online stuff, CNN. But I could not take the horror and collective grief and pain that the event generated, and cried my way through the next month, finally asking for some help from my doctor. When I finally came out of that, I was no longer a newshound. I still read two papers daily and newsmagazines, but I skim over the tragedies now and try to narrow my focus and keep my emotions in check.

I've learned to live with gratitude over the last 25 or so years, more so in the last decade. There have been some big changes and hard times in those years, painful and scary issues -- my parents' deaths, my uncle's death, my daughters struggling with their lives and own issues, our own huge change from working and living in the Bay Area to moving here and going into (and out of) real estate. These all have tremendous ice weasel potential, and there have been some big party nights for the creepy rat ba*s*a**ds.

But I've also read a lot of -- for want of a better term, spiritual -- books and stories of people who have faced far more adverse conditions than I, and have come through it with a positive spirit ... and grace.

And that's it -- the goal. Grace.

Today's Daily Om is about living with grace.

It doesn't mean ignoring what is going on around you, the pain, the chaos, the state of the world and the country and your own problems. It means learning to be aware of what ELSE is going on around you, of shifting focus much as you do as a photographer to capture something that maybe isn't quite so obvious. It means looking for the little blessings even in pain and confusion. Grace leads us out of the morass to a place where we can stand without sinking, and helps us see through the haze and the fog to find solutions for our situation and to understand how to change the things we can.

The only way I know to find grace is to practice gratitude. And it's hard some days: sometimes even just a warm shower can be your best moment of the day, or climbing into a bed made with clean sheets. But if you practice it when you're not in crisis, it will be there for you when you are.

The party was great fun -- and everyone agrees that we are all indeed blessed to have this circle of friendships....peter out or peter in....

You know it's July when the temp gets over 105

How about 115 on our front porch yesterday?

With 7 percent humidity.

Now, I realize that those friends and family members who live in the midwest and south have absolutely NO CLUE what humidity that low feels like. It's desert dry. It's watch-your-skin-shrivel-right-up-and-wrinkle dry. It's nearly nosebleed dry.

If you hung wet clothes on a clothesline, you'd be taking down the first ones by the time you'd finished hanging a basket.

Today brought smoky haze from the southeast: Paradise is burning up again, and evacuations are again in place for this little community near Chico. Tony said ash was falling on his truck in the parking lot. Air quality there is unhealthy for anyone. And it was supposed to hit 117 here, although it only got to about 110 because of the haze.

Only. 110.

I'm back in mole mode -- blinds drawn against the sun and I try not to go out after noon. The kitties are flopped on the front porch near the front door where presumably there is a trickle of cooler air. I've got a fan on them and bring them ice cubes and water periodically, and I even rubbed the twins down with ice this afternoon -- they liked it. The water evaporates so quickly that it is cooling, albeit briefly.

The garden is doing well, although fruit won't set this hot, I think. I've had lots of squash and zucchini, and some nice cucumbers, a few green beans, and tomatoes are coming. I've been trading squash for tomatoes, though, and tonight we had fresh tomato, turkey bacon and lettuce-leaf basil sandwiches on whole wheat. The lettuce-leaf basil is just wonderful -- not as strong as the regular stuff, and big leaves, and very tender. It's going on my list to plant next year.

I put up prayer flags atop the garden fence this morning -- on a trip Sunday to the Mt. Shasta Lavender Farm, my girlfriends and I stopped at a street festival in Mt. Shasta City where it was tie-dye hippie heaven, and found the prayer flags in one of the booths. So my little flags, in the traditional Tibetan colors of yellow, green, red, white, and blue, are flapping prayers all day long. I like that very much. The garden is a spiritual place for me anyway -- I love working in the earth, watching things grow and thrive, and then harvesting the food to nourish our bodies.

One delightful movie we watched this weekend: August Rush. It's improbable and totally stretches credibility, but the music is wonderful, the story is heart-warming (and sad too), and Freddie Highmore, who plays little Evan/August, just makes you want to scoop him up and love on him. It was a nice escape from heat and gas prices and sick children and stress.

Stay cool. Check everything twice. Be patient. Drink lots of water in non-plastic bottles (I just bought them for us). Say thank you to the universe.

What lies beneath

Our daughters are not in good places tonight: princess 3's baby Gabriel, at barely 3 weeks, is in the hospital with some sort of infection that manifested last night with a fever. She is still on meds for her own pneumonia, and just recovering from a C-section. We are holding them both in our hearts and minds, and will go hug her tomorrow.

Princess 1 is just struggling with her illness and self-esteem, and today has not been a particularly good one. This is the baby I raised, loved, nourished, and cherished, as I do today. Our babies may grow up, but they're still the children we so want to have a good life, a calm, happy life. I know I am powerless to do anything more than encourage and talk and love, but I hope that will help.

And I've just been socked upside the head the past few days with blogs about the ice weasels that I mentioned yesterday, and two lovely ones today from Lunaea and Joanna about gratitude. Others have their own battles and demons -- and it is interesting that many are feeling especially vulnerable right now.

And tonight I watched an episode of Oprah about the law of attraction, one I hadn't watched previously that was broadcast sometime last week, I think, which was another message about gratitude and asking the universe for what you need and want. I've been talking about this to the girls and my friends for some time now, and I wholeheartedly believe it works.

But one of the interesting things in this program was the statement "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear."

That is true. I've seen it over and over. I've experienced it. In fact, the things I learned from one of my "teachers" are what brought me to California nearly 11 years ago, and that teacher - among a few others - came from an extremely unlikely place: an Internet chat room on an "adult" site.

From those amazing, interesting, extremely literate and literary, caring people, I learned so much about myself and what I wanted from my life, and began to make changes to make it happen. But I was ready for change, although I didn't really know it at the time, and I was ready to hear what they had to teach me, although I didn't recognize them as teachers until later. I believe the gathering of those particular people in that particular chat room that particular summer was one of those convergence miracles -- and I don't think I was the only one whose life was changed because of it.

The Oprah program talked about vision boards as a tool for helping a person focus on what s/he wants in life: success, travel, money, friends, whatever....And I think it's time I made one. I've visioned before, but in words and in my mind. It's time to really put my dreams out there to see and to ponder.

You can find information about vision boards here and here.

And on my board I'm going to have pictures of my girls, happy, healthy, with loving partners and healthy children, and enough of everything to sustain them. There will be a cover of the book I want to write. A couple of cities I'd like to see. AndI don't know what else yet....

But at the center will be gratitude...thank yous for the cool water I'm sipping, the soft sheets that await me in my snug bedroom, for the loving mate who is my heart's delight and was one of my first visions manifested these 11 years ago. I am always and forever grateful for the teachers who encouraged and inspired and introduced me to the power of listening to my heart, of believing in my true self and letting that person loose to live and love and now, perhaps, to teach others.

Feeling out of sorts? You're not alone

As I mentioned a few posts ago, things seem very unsettled and uncomfortable in the world now, both in my little personal sphere and the earth as a whole.

I start nearly every time the phone rings, hoping it's not one of the princesses with yet another crisis and health issue. The youngest has not only delivered a baby -- young Gabriel -- in the past three weeks, but also ended up in the hospital with pneumonia last week, exacerbated I'm sure by all the smoke and nasty air that we've had in these parts from the fires. (it's smoky again today)

And the eldest is battling big depression and mental health issues far away from me so that I can't even put my arms around her and just cry with her. So I try to do it via phone. She's talking to me -- a good thing -- and is getting help, but it seems like one big crisis after another, impacting finances as well as job and emotional health.

All of which invite the ice weasels, which so far I've managed to stave off from a full-fledged attack. I can feel them nibbling, though.

And I'm not the only one who is having these feelings. Lunaea posed the question a few days ago and got some good responses. And Joanna offers her own suggestions for dealing with emotional issues today.

There are good ideas here to cope, and I've done most of them at one point or another. For now, I'm trying to stay in the moment and focus on what I need to do here. I'm trying to remember that I am powerless over people, places and things, and that there is really not one thing I can do to fix this for either princess. They must do the work. I am the listener, the comforter, the suggester. I try to make solid suggestions and hope the seeds grow. They each must find their own way through their dark and stormy times, but I hope that while I talk to them that I can be the lighthouse in the darkness.

I am grateful for my lighthouse, my wonderful husband, and for his sane and loving touch. I am grateful for my own sense of self and strength. The ocean renewed some of that for me this weekend. I watch the hummingbirds and water my plants and harvest the good veggies, and am thankful for life and for its constancy. As the old fades, the new takes its place. My daughters have to find their own paths through the darkness, just as I have found mine.

Salt air is a cure for smoke and haze

We escaped to the ocean over a long weekend -- escaped smoke and fire news and heat, and just soaked up the moist, cool salt air in Bandon, Oregon.

We'd planned to go to the Lost Coast some time ago and had made reservations, but the fires in Tehama and Shasta counties closed both main roads to the coast, and the alternate way, far south of us, led to more fire issues with some of those roads. So rather than cancel altogether, we remembered Bandon, a spot we visited more than eight years ago when we were on our honeymoon.

It was some miles and hours longer to get there, but probably not by a whole lot, since Bandon is accessible from here mostly via I-5, and then cutting over to the coast on reasonably good road.

We drove through smoke and haze until we got well north of Redding, where the smoke from the Shasta Dam fire billowed over the roadway and we could see smoke plumes much more closely than we really wanted to see them. By the time we came back yesterday, the air had cleared a lot. The fires are more under control, although by no means out. And the air quality is better, but far from good.

It was a lovely getaway. I read a whole book -- okay, an appropriate beach read -- the second in Nora Roberts' Blood Brothers trilogy and hardly requiring much brain, but perfect for the weekend. We ate fish, we watched a lovely sunset, we walked miles on the beach, we slept and watched some mindless television. Mostly we watched and listened to waves and sea birds. The constancy of the waves is reassuring, endless in its repetition. I love it. Tony said I was like a puppy sniffing the air. I took great gulps of the air, even filling my lungs full several times just before we left to come home in hopes that it would sustain me until I get back. When I close my eyes I see the waves, hear the waves. It is a good place.

The kitties missed us. McMurphy was all over us last night, wanting to be petted, and Ches just watched nearby, although he let me pet him and love on him later in the evening, but didn't climb into Tony's lap until just a few minutes ago. As long as the outside kitties are fed, watered, and petted daily, they're fine. And they were.

The garden is bountiful with squash -- zucchini and yellow. Tomatoes are ripening slowly, green peppers are appearing, and there are a couple of Japanese eggplant. No green beans. Lots of foliage, but no fruit. I've gotten some cucumbers and there are more out there. I still would like to plant more chard. I have a little plant -- the seeds didn't all come up -- and need to just plunk more into the ground. It's good -- all is tasty and fresh. Herbs are good too -- basil, chives, oregano, thyme, mint. Cilantro never does well, though -- I don't know why.

Time to fold clothes and try to relax a bit. It's been one of those days where I tied up loose ends and putzed, but didn't do some of the things I now HAVE to get done. Ah well. Such is the nature of a deadline-driven writer, I guess.

Fire haze hangs heavy

Smoke hangs from the trees and fills the hollows on our land the last two mornings, especially when there is no wind. It's from all the fires burning around us, thanks to the lightning strikes of this weekend. And the smell of smoke is ominous.

We're getting it from all around us -- east, west, north, and south, but I think most of it is from fires in Shasta County, particularly in remote areas that are so hard to get to. The fire crews are working hard -- but this is early in the fire season, and I think that already money to call in supporting crews from other states is drying up. I read on one message board that we may have to let some of them burn on their own -- as they did long ago -- until the rains come. Which means that the air may be smoky all summer.

The air quality is horrible, especially if you have breathing problems to begin with. Princess #3 is in the hospital with pnemonia -- went in last night -- and I'm sure the air quality did not help. She's had a rough time these past couple of months, and we just hope she can get better and get some rest.

I'm sure it's the fires, but things feel unsettled to me -- unsettling maybe a better word. A lot of loose ends, a lot of angst and worry and fear drifting in with the smoke and hiding the horizon. The setting sun was orange last night in the haze and the light was a murky, dirty yellow -- everything looks slightly jaundiced.

I am grateful for men and women who fight fires and try to keep us safe.

Lightning welcomes summer

Summer came in with a bang: thunder and lightning crashed and flashed around us late Friday night, moving quickly to the east, and then another round made yesterday -- the first day of summer -- mostly overcast and a little damp, with more thunder and lightning.

In fact, that lightning torched fires throughout northern California, and by last evening, smoke flavored the air all around us, although we coudln't see anything, and it continued all night, although it was cooler than it's been.

A combination of winds and, I hope, successful containment, has pretty much eliminated the smokey air today, although it was hanging in the trees earlier this morning.

I was in Redding, where the skies opened up and dumped water on the dusty ground several times. I don't think we got much more than a little taste here, though, and it dried quickly.

When I lived in the midwest, summer thunderstorms always cooled things off and freshened the air, and I liked watching the lightning -- as long as it was past tornado season. Here, it is frightening at this time of year because of the fire danger. The cats don't like the thunder at all and stay close to us.

And yesterday was the longest day of the year -- more than 15 hours of daylight. In six short months we will be in the midst of rain and cold temps, and planning for Christmas. Fire will heat our home and we will enjoy watching the orange flames dancing behind the glass doors.

I hope you had a chance to enjoy this week's full moon and honor your summer spirit. This return of the sun has been celebrated for centuries with religious ritual and ceremony. Years ago I was in Sweden at midsummer -- one huge party all over the country, marked with maypoles and flowers and green branches everywhere, and business pretty much stops for about a week.

We've celebrated the sunshine by enjoying zucchini and yellow crookneck in various ways this week, and the cucumbers are nearly ready for picking. Green tomatoes are finally appearing, but the lettuce and spinach are done. Swiss chard is taking its time. I need to plant more...

Remember that each season, each day is a gift to us. Give thanks for what the day brings to you.

When he's hot, he's hot

My wonderful husband has a blog, Cat-E-Whompus, where he links to various news and commentary sources and comments on stories in the news. Often these are not the things that make it into the headlines, but interesting tidbits he gleans from his eclectic Internet reading.

He threads things together with wit and well-chosen words, some of which send even this logophile to the dictionary.

While I nearly always manage at least a post a week, he can go a couple of months without a post, which doesn't do a lot for readership -- even he realizes that.

But lately he's been prolific. And even if you don't agree with him (and I don't always), he gives you grist for the mind-mill.

Check it out. Tell him what you think. And don't hold back.

Fire strikes -- and so do looters

The Humboldt Fire started near Chico, where Tony works, last Wednesday and many of his company's employees had to evacuate their homes near Paradise.

It has been devastating to watch the news, see the map, and read the comments by worried friends and family. Our home is 50 miles to the north and west, so we were not threatened by this one. But everyone who lives in California fears wildfires, as well they should.

There were 74 homes destroyed by this fire; cause at this point unknown. Thousands of firefighters from throughout California assisted the battle to contain it. Hundreds of people were evacuated and sheltered and fed by volunteers and good people.

And last night on the news there was this report about looters. Today, Tony discovered that one of his colleagues was a victim, and that his insurance company only covers $5K caused by theft. The guy -- a young man with a family -- did not lose his home to fire, but lost its contents to thieves who took advantage of his absence and stole everything: tools, toys -- everything.

How do people lose ethics? Did they never have them in the first place? What corrupts a person, causes them to compound a terrible event into an even more incomprehensible act?

Tony's colleague did not realize that others had also been looted, so he perhaps can find some company with his misery, and perhaps they all can work towards a solution, towards regaining some of the stolen merchandise.

I'm 60 years old. And I don't think I'm particularly naive. But this just blows me away -- sort of like the guy I wrote about a few days ago baffles me with his nastiness and mean spirit -- only these thieves are even lower than that on the ethics and decency scale. They kicked people when they were down, walked away and left them gasping. And didn't look back. That is the true tragedy in this.

When you just don't feel like doing anything you should be doing

The.
Best.
Time-Sucker.
(almost)
EVER.

Lion Cam.
(it's a zoo in Norway...)

Well, shoot....
The site's down right now -- has been this afternoon -- but I'm checking. It's momma lion and four lion cubs, barely able to toddle around, and just too cute --