My new favourite poem

“First Lesson”
by Phillip Booth

Lie back, daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man’s float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on your long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.

Take THAT!

"The pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America."

-- Barack Obama, soon-to-be Senator from Illinois at the Democratic National Convention

On The Road

Ah, the joys of post-9/11 travel!
 
Sophie, our 4-year-old sweetie-pie, won the boarding pass lottery and was selected for additional security screening at the Seattle airport. Picture a sub 3-foot-tall blond pixie wearing a purple shirt with a white kitten and "Adorable" on it, pulling her Clifford the Big Red Dog rolling backpack behind her.
 
Yeah, that's what the security folk did too as they just subjected us all to the normal check (not even requiring her to remove her pink and purple Tevas)  and waved us through with a smile. Guess she doesn't fit the terrorist profile. Terror sometimes, especially when she's tired. Terrorist not-so-much. But hey - we did get to go through the express line, saving us a good 20 minutes or so.
 
Iowa was cornful and lovely, Chicago is pavementy and also lovely. It's been blessedly not-so-hot-nor-humid (save for the first two days when even my toenails were sweating). Thus far we've taken our traditional carousel ride, gone in search of Herky on Parade, visited Herbert Hoover's home, caught fireflies, watched a Cubs game at Wrigley Field, and given lots of love to a couple of grandmas, a great-aunt, and an uncle. Much more to come. 

Life Lessons

Whether it was an attempt to delay bedtime just a little while longer, or a genuine interest in things politic, Nathan started a conversation with me last night as I was cuddling with him in the top bunk.

Nathan: "So George Bush is just the President of Seattle, right?"

Me: "Nope... sadly he's President (grumble) of the whole United States."

Nathan: "Where is Howard Dean President? I want to go there."

Me: "Me too, honey, me too."

It's really no fun having to dose my kids with such harsh reality. I'm thinking the question came about because we're going on vacation next week, and it must have occurred to him that in leaving our city we might also be going someplace that wasn't so unlucky with regards to head of state.

Other things I've tried to teach my kids this week:

• Just because your shirt has a girl (namely Kim Possible) on it, doesn't mean it's a "girl's shirt", regardless of what your friends at daycamp say. If you like it, that's all that matters - and there's NOTHING wrong with thinking a girl is tshirt-worthy. (This lesson was accompanied by roleplaying "talk to the hand" and "what-ever" in case of future incidents.)


• When you bump your forehead on the side of the pool while doing blast-offs from your teacher to the wall, you need take some deep breaths, get plenty of hugs, lick the water off the top of the ice cup (since you won't put it on the owie) and then get right back in the pool and keep on swimming.


• You are not Bret Boone. Yet. Stop trying flip the ball sidearm to first.


• If your brother asks you to stop looking at him, it would be nice to respect his wishes - someday you'll ask him to stop looking at (or touching or breathing on or...) you, and he's more likely to do so if you are nice to him. Same goes for sharing your Gatorade.


• In the same vein, if your sister is looking at you and you don't want her to, rather than get all worked up about it, you could simply ignore her and go about your business. A lot of people will do a lot of things in your life that annoy the CRAP out of you. While you have no control over what they do, you do have control over how you react and the emotions you attach to those situations. (And no. It's not okay for you to say crap. I'm the mom, and it's called poetic license.)


• Yes, CJ is funny. Yes, I know you want to marry him. However, 4 is too early to commit to one boy or girl. Though it's hard to believe now, you might meet someone you like better someday. Yes, honey, like when you're 6.

Joy

Q: What's better than beating the Yankees in Yankee Stadium?

A: Beating them twice in Yankee Stadium.

Tigers take 2/3 from the Yankees to win the series. You should SEE me doin' the happy dance.

A Gift for Dubya

 

Kerry/Edwards '04

You're heading back to Crawford, birthday boy, so enjoy your last one in DC. I'd tell you to relax and take it easy, but you've been doing that for nearly four years now so what would be the point? Instead why don't you get a head-start on packing your bags so you can get the hell out of our White House.

And be sure to take your foul-mouthed VP with you.

Through the Looking Glass

Just because we're paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not out to get us.

WASHINGTON - The government needs to establish guidelines for canceling or rescheduling elections if terrorists strike the United States again, says the chairman of a new federal voting commission.

Voting Official Seeks Terrorism Guidelines

My Name in Lights... erm... Pixels

Finally, the piece I wrote for the Seattle WriterGrrls Zine has been published. I'm pretty happy with it. Here's an excerpt:

-----------

Ask anyone who knows me: I'm a girl with big feelings. I cry at dolphin shows. I cry while singing the national anthem at baseball games. I cry during tender hobbit embraces. I cry... well, you get the picture. Big feelings.

And this is true from way back. I wasn't the kid you'd find frying ants with a magnifying glass or pulling the wings off house flies. Not because I didn't want to touch said insects, but because... well... it would have hurt them.

Bear this fact in mind so that you might judge me less harshly when I tell you that I have a very clear memory of doing mortal harm to a few lightning bugs (or fireflies, if you prefer) one summer night in 1976. I'd like to say it was an accident...that I left them in a jar for too long without air or water (a frequent and somewhat more forgivable cause of bug mortality). But no—it was deliberate. I was six and the poor guys were simply in the wrong yard at the wrong time.

What prompted this insecticidal rampage? What summertime madness turned a good-hearted little girl into a killer of beings harmless and blinky? Two words: Peter Pan.

Read the rest here. And let me know what you think!

Morning Music Mix

Served up to me by my iPod this morning:

High Speed - Coldplay
Spoonboy - Ashley MacIsaac
Jack Hinks - Great Big Sea
So Far Away - Carole King
St. Caffeine - John Gorka
You Should Be Running - Pete Droge
I know What Kind of Love - Cry Cry Cry
Give a Little Love - Bay City Rollers
Prologue: Book II And The Escape From The Dursleys - John Williams
Couldn't Care Less About - Evan & Jaron
Out of Range - Ani Difranco
Credo - Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina
Rainmaker - Maura O'Connell
I'll Spend My Life With You - The Monkees
Rapture - Peter Mulvey

Not a bad variety and lots of stuff I haven't heard in awhile. I often wonder whether my iPod has a hidden agenda, if it "randomly" gives me songs that my subconsious needs to hear that particular session. Yes yes, I do personify my favourite electronic device... and I'm sure that if my iPod and TiVo got together, they'd have quite the laugh over some of my listening and viewing choices.

Thank god an Air Supply song didn't come up in the list or everyone would know...

...but now I've said too much.

At the very least, the ties that I make between song titles, or the way a certain set of songs makes me feel, or the memories they bring up are a great way of doing a little internal check to see what's going on in my warped little psyche. Let's see what today's reveal...

High Speed... Running... Escape... Far Away... Out of Range...

Heh. My first thought is of the vacation time that we have planned... two full weeks including visits with all the grandmas and a weekend at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival. I've heard a number of artists in this mix - John Gorka, Cry Cry Cry, Great Big Sea, Ani, Peter Mulvey - at past festivals. And I'm SO excited to go again as it's been three years since the last time (and four since we've camped). Whee!

Then, of course, there's the constant conflict I feel these days between on the one hand doing the work that I do which is safe and easy and comfortable, and on the other hand wanting to shake it all up, to just quit and move to doing full-time massage and doula'ing and writing. I'm scared to make that jump, there's no doubt about it... giving up the routine, the certainty of a paycheck of a known amount twice a month for unpredictable and spotty income.

So for now I'm moving slowly... the aforementioned vacation plans make it hard for me to throw myself into scheduling appointments and moving full-speed ahead with the marketing I need to do to build up a client base. Am I using that as an excuse, as a way to avoid... to escape... to run far away from the work I need to do? Possibly. Probably, even.

Oh wise and all-knowing iPod.

Stop analyzing me already and just cough up this Saturday's winning lotto numbers. Problem solved.

Opa!

Right now, as I type this, my purse is in Crete. Sadly, I am not.

Yes, you read correctly, Crete - the Greek island (aka paradise). My friend Sandy is accompanying my purse on this adventure, as she attends what looks to be a fabulous creativity workshop. She asked me to come along, but my bank account informed me that I could only afford to send my purse.

Lucky purse.

Lucky Sandy.

Non-purse-wearing, non-paradise-enjoying me.

If anyone is interested in sending me to Crete or any of the other wonderful locations where said creativity workshops are being held, feel free to donate to my PayPal account. My world-travelling purse and I would promise to send you a postcard, and of course I'd blog the whole thing and dedicate the book I'm sure to write as a result to you.