Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts

the skinny



Sometimes life's changes are so significant and jarring that that very air smells new.  You cannot possibly mistake the new thing for the old one, they are so dissimilar.  You may experience vertigo, a disorienting confusing while trying to make the connection between this now and yesterday.

Other times, changes are more subtle.  They are the initial shuddering of a tectonic plate, a shift felt in great capacity not until much later.  That's how I'm feeling it these days.  The days of the gorgeous-est summer I've seen in many years.  The days of 1yr olds scaring the living life out of me with their will and potential.  The days of countless bottles of rosé and caprese salad for lunches and dinners. The days where I need to find a job and the days where vacations feel like my enemy.

 The Skinny Around Here:

I am roughly 5 issues of The New Yorker behind.  I've always wanted to say that.


The offspring is going COO-COO for blueberries. 

Joel has been sick with a stomach bug for almost six days now.  He's broken.

I feel like I have forgotten how to use my camera.

The evenings are divine, with Cherry Garcia FroYo and the latest, lingering light.

I have a slight tan for the first time in 10 years. 

Camping exists to expose all of my character weaknesses. 


I have actually been swimming this summer.  This is tragically uncharacteristic. I will return to a lake yearly from now on.  (I spent weeks of my childhood summers camping on Lake Mead then on The Colorado River). Joel and I went baby-free camping for 3 whole days at Sun Lakes. It was really hot, and I daresay I was only miserable 60% of the time.  See prior comment.



Joel spent his summers travelling from Maple Valley, Washington, to Alliance, Nebraska.  I am determined to make the same trek one of these summers.

I am newly discouraged after many weeks of happiness.  Sadness mixing with self-pity mixing with restlessness. It's time for me to go back to work. I have a second interview this week for a Technical Writing position and I am fingers crossed all the way.  I'm really rather uncomfortable relying on my husband's income for such a long period of time.  An interesting article on that here.  Listen, I am married and I love being married.  Part of that means that we lean on each other, but financial times are different.  Even if nothing happens to our emotional relationship, if Joel were to suddenly die or lose his job, we would be royally effed.  I genuinely believe no capable adult should be 100% financially dependent on anyone else for an extended period of time, male or female.  Times, they are a'changin.

We have a new car.  Did I tell you?  We have been struggling to get Bowie in and out of our two-door VW Golf for over a year now.  I persisted in the search for a new car (what an overwhelming and defeating process) within our budget and finally found one on Craigslist.  It's a same year VW Passat with fewer miles, four doors, V6, leather seats, manual (a must!), sunroof, and in really great condition.  Although I feel like an over-privileged whitey driving it (and miss my zippy little Golf).



Phoenix d'Sangaré Gomes was born July 23rd at 5:17am.  By a random turn of events, I was able to be there for the birth and take photos.  Have you ever attended a live birth?  The moment the child emerges from all the toiling and planning and expectation, it's nearly the biggest relief and greatest joy I've ever experienced. I didn't even have those feelings at my own birth, as I was a bit tired and shocked.

I'm reading a lot of memoir, as I have been almost solely focused on writing creative nonfiction myself for the last six months.  Currently it is Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?(which is actually a bit slow and I'm forcing myself to finish) and a Cheryl Strayed recommended fiction The News from Spain which is lovely so far. Next is a local author, Brenda Miller's Blessing of the Animals.  I am proud to say that I've read almost exclusively women authors for over a year now.  I was severely out of balance in my male/female reading ratio.  It is much easier to find males to read, but one has to really know the business and search out females, which I am happy to do.  Now let's discuss this.  I hear you saying, "I read what is good! No matter the gender of the author." Well, congrats on that.  But have you examined how you know what is good? What are your influences?  What is your male/female ratio?  Why is this?  I tell you it is because men have been given more chance and privilege and opportunity to succeed for millions of years now.  I love males.  I love their pen.  But it's our turn, ladies. 

SUMMER IS FOR READING!!




and for water play
and baby skin
and sun hats
and bowls of blueberries
and letters from wild fillies
and letters from pensive pretties.

                                                                                 sincerely,
                                                                                                 

Summer's End





Oh late summer, you great bringer of things, you.

:: a second bloom of roses ::
:: fresh lemons from california ::
:: huge zucchini's and summer squash from mom's garden ::
:: a booze delivery from california ::
:: mom's late season blackberry pie from berries picked yesterday ::
:: friends home ::


The instant

I am standing in front of the kitchen sink, washing out a bottle like I've done blindly for the last 3.5 weeks.   Quite surprisingly, and just as fleeting an exit as its entrance, some sort of deeply-embedded bliss finds its way to my brain.  "I have a baby."  The backyard is lush and inviting, the perfect summer breeze teasing the wind-chime in just the right timbre.   It was so real.

I blink, and the moment is gone.  I hear Bowie telling me to get ready to nurse, and so back to my duties - which are not without pleasure, but are certainly, at this stage anyway, performed in a rote trance, half asleep, desperate for something unnameable.  Perhaps it's that I know (and maybe feel guilty about) I am more than a mother, that this isn't enough to culminate my existence.  My brain reminds me of this perpetually.  And so I look deeper into the crevasse of personal interest and intellectual pursuits.  What will I find there?  Where have I put those books of poetry?

Ah, false alarm.  She has put herself back to sleep as she knows she doesn't get picked up or rescued at the first sign of dismay. She will lie in her bassinet calmly, her big blue eyes roaming the room, taking in light and shadow, entertaining herself.  She's already a big girl, patient and pure.  She has given me a few moments to write, to understand my rambling self, which rambled into a moment of bliss and then rambled right back out.  



"You lived here?  But it's so beautiful."
"Oui, it was too beautiful for me, I had to leave."
French Kiss




I love the instances of life's awakenings.

I'm on my way, Bowie.
We are doing well together.




Time Stamp

RIGHT NOW
My space


Kefir Smoothie


Dahlia Bunch, $5

summer's (organic and local) bounty
___________

LATELY



___________

ALL TOO OFTEN

The Saint at The Leary Tavern


The Leary Tavern

DUVEL
__________


a study in blue

Time Stamp
To genuinely feeling
the August of things.
Stand, feet planted on the warmest kitchen tile
seconds and seconds pass.
When did I stop noticing the wind?

Scent of tomato leaves lingering on fingers,
Mingled into the bouquet of pink wine.
Sweet, sharp
forgetting.

Blueberry ink,
Crusty perfection of bread,
Half-hazard slabs of brie.

Afternoons breathing quietly into afterevenings.
Oh Susanna! sells 50-50s.
Nectarines served up warm, with a dash of sideways light.

Ode à août.
To the next chance,
To the replaced peace,
and to summer's imagination,
I aspire.

Everything is growing.


the 50mm

To celebrate 33 successful years of staying alive, Joelio gave me the 50mm lens I'd been wanting.  Boy oh boy...do I love it.  It creates the depth of field that my other lens just doesn't quite have the unique power to do.  It's sooooo perfect for shooting portraits - as it focuses soley on the subject and blurs the background so dramatically, making the person just pop out at you!

A few shots of my first days with my lens.

summer dates


Dinner

Every Wednesday, Joel and I meet at our local farmer's market.  It's only a few blocks from the house, and a quick bus ride home from work for him.  I always walk up to find him leaning against a tree in the shade, reading something on his phone.  I sit on his lap and hug him for as long as he'll let me (he's usually hot from walking from the bus in work attire), which is actually rather long.  After we catch up on the day's goings on, we meander over to the market and pick up a bit of produce.  This week it was 2 heads of califlour, 1 bunch of kale, 1 bunch of rainbow chard, 1 pint of strawberries (the SWEETEST I've tasted in my life as yet), and 1 pint of raspberries.  Once we've satisfied our produce needs, we decide on an early dinner of veggie quesadillas.  This guy LOADS the quesadilla with a ton of these awesome sauteed vegetables.  Joel has spoken of little else since we began this Wednesday night tradition.  In fact, he has been known to order a bowl of only the sauteed veggies.  Such a rabbit!

Our Farmer's Market Dates
Veggie Quesadilla
Berries!!

Summer dates are so nutritious!
 


summer's bounty


Dinner tonight was to be the recreation of an amazing salad I had in San Jose while imposing on the hospitality of Allison.  Kelly and I spoke of it several times after dinner and the following day, trying to pinpoint the dressing.  Tonight's salad was delicious, but not quite right.  Interestingly enough, I had both versions of the salad after a yoga class.  There is something about watermelon after yoga...


Desert tonight was bathing in these summer beauties.  Apparently, I not only have roses; I have BEHEMOTH roses.  They smell like pepper and dirt.

It's so good to be home.