It is January. It is past the middle of January. Everything is cold in Michigan. There are a few inches of snow covering the grass, gravel, and all things that grow and then sleep.
We have a 47 day old child living in our 107 (nearly 108) year old house with us. She is mighty and beautiful.
She is sitting with her mama in her mama's mama's rocker nursing. The rocker is resting in the same place where her mama's mama's mama died one and a half years ago.
Did I mention it is cold outside and that I have been reading Aldo Leopold (every winter I read A Sand County Almanac)? It is especially wonderful to start at the beginning of the book when it is still January. I reread January Thaw the other day with deep reverence for the cycles Leopold writes about--the cycles of seasons and living charging in dynamic force all around us all of the time. I marveled, again, at his subtle glorification of simplicity and the sacred readings he captured in the quick, quiet, momentary voyage of a skunk still heady from hibernation.
I suggest giving him a read if you never have and a reread if you have and liked it.
His call to observe our moments alive with the rest of our community (the land community/animal,animal community/animal, human community) is a a good one.
This winter many of my days have bled into streams of light upon my nights and my nights have rode dark waves on my mornings and afternoons. Time is strange in the world of baby human. But still there is the difference in temperature of a day versus a night--the chicken's water demonstrates the patterns of change in concrete (or icy) ways.
Even though we have been mesmerized by sleep deprivation and sleeping differently all together, I think my senses have been heightened to the subtle shifts of temperature throughout a January day, evening, and night. The cold of a crisp 11:00pm as I feed and water the chickens (yet again) before bed pierces a different, more alive, kind of frigid over my cheeks than the wetter cold of morning.
And my senses pay attention to all around me as I walk or ride in a more expansive way than I have felt before. This little animal being that has filled our house with her cries, poop, urine, and vomit, and soft face and hands and thighs--she has added another layer of sensitivity to my existing need to observe and witness and then act.
Leopold articulates:
"The months of the year, from January up to June, are a geometric progression in the abundance of distractions. In January one may follow a skunk track, or search for bands on the chickadees, or see what young pines the deer have browsed, or what muskrat houses the mink have dug, with only an occasional and mild digression into other doings. January observation can be almost as simple and peaceful as snow, and almost continuous as cold. There is time not only to see who has done what, but to speculate why."
She has added one more stripe of peace to my observations. She makes me speculate more than ever. She makes me pay more attention to the cycles of living, surviving, and dying, and re-birthing all around us. And, then she makes me want to work harder to make sure that we build a stronger land ethic in our community. She drives me out to the cold January mornings and nights and causes me to savor the expanse of sky peeking out to us from behind the light pollution in the darkness. She makes me glad to know the seasons, to witness them, to have them etched into my skin. (seriously, riding and footing it regularly in 15-25 degree weather--colder with windchill--is doing some mighty fine skin "damage" characterizing to my face). Of course, I cared about all of this before her, but there are no words to describe the deeper animal she has brought out in me. I like the cold (and yearn for the spring) even more than I did before.
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
Monday, January 17, 2011
Thursday, November 18, 2010
8000 miles into the many folds of my imagination
I made this deal with myself that our baby could get born once I hit 8,000 miles on my bicycle. Well yesterday that happened, so k's vaginal gate is now allowed to loosen up and let it fly.
In all actuality, we have no idea when this will happen, but the aforementioned deal with myself is an example indicative of my strange thinking habits. I tend to have a grandiose imagination and the absurd ability to develop worst case scenarios in my mind.
For instance, part of our conversation with our midwife on Wednesday morning, Me: "So...S what is your back up plan in case you are experiencing violent vomiting and diarrhea when k hits active/active labor?"
Of course she has a solid back up plan so I have no worries, but I will envision all the crazy ass things that could go wrong (or right) about 1000 times before our bundle of joy comes rolling out of kk's nether region. It is just how I am.
some new age folks might think that this is negative thinking that will impact the way things turn out for us, and I sometimes end up thinking that the negative thinking will indeed make things roll out negatively, but then I think that that is simply part of my neurotic imaginative tendencies, and I get over myself and the self-implied power present in all of the power of thinking BS that circulates the new age airwaves like an overactive muscle spasm.
This is not to say that I think that what we think does not impact our overall demeanor and state of comfort or lack there of. I know how to work myself up over the things I imagine in my head and then I know how to talk myself out of the panic i drive myself to.
But I do not believe that if I imagine horrific things (which I do all of the time) then I will bring those things upon myself or my loved ones. If I did believe all that super-human nonsense, then I would have to be placed in a very cushy room to stop the tragedies that cross my mind from befalling the universe. I am not a supernatural superhero or antihero; I am simply a getting closer to middle age over-imaginator.
And please understand that the shit that flutters through my mind is not all death and destruction or vile images of fluids exploding out of both human ends; I also think lovely thoughts. There are even times when I think nothing at all and simply ride in a state of marvel through the changing colors with a dark liquid snake of a river rushing next to me. While eight species of birds dart and swoop and flutter all around the fecund, layered decay beneath sumac and dried mullein and evening primrose and touch-me-not that has fallen to brown remnants for winter. And I laugh at the lone blue jay standing amidst the Canada geese calling out screeches of derision to the ever-growing colder autumn morning and my mind settles softly to the place where there is no thing but the calls of earth catching me breathless in anticipation for the most amazing coming experience of our lives...
In all actuality, we have no idea when this will happen, but the aforementioned deal with myself is an example indicative of my strange thinking habits. I tend to have a grandiose imagination and the absurd ability to develop worst case scenarios in my mind.
For instance, part of our conversation with our midwife on Wednesday morning, Me: "So...S what is your back up plan in case you are experiencing violent vomiting and diarrhea when k hits active/active labor?"
Of course she has a solid back up plan so I have no worries, but I will envision all the crazy ass things that could go wrong (or right) about 1000 times before our bundle of joy comes rolling out of kk's nether region. It is just how I am.
some new age folks might think that this is negative thinking that will impact the way things turn out for us, and I sometimes end up thinking that the negative thinking will indeed make things roll out negatively, but then I think that that is simply part of my neurotic imaginative tendencies, and I get over myself and the self-implied power present in all of the power of thinking BS that circulates the new age airwaves like an overactive muscle spasm.
This is not to say that I think that what we think does not impact our overall demeanor and state of comfort or lack there of. I know how to work myself up over the things I imagine in my head and then I know how to talk myself out of the panic i drive myself to.
But I do not believe that if I imagine horrific things (which I do all of the time) then I will bring those things upon myself or my loved ones. If I did believe all that super-human nonsense, then I would have to be placed in a very cushy room to stop the tragedies that cross my mind from befalling the universe. I am not a supernatural superhero or antihero; I am simply a getting closer to middle age over-imaginator.
And please understand that the shit that flutters through my mind is not all death and destruction or vile images of fluids exploding out of both human ends; I also think lovely thoughts. There are even times when I think nothing at all and simply ride in a state of marvel through the changing colors with a dark liquid snake of a river rushing next to me. While eight species of birds dart and swoop and flutter all around the fecund, layered decay beneath sumac and dried mullein and evening primrose and touch-me-not that has fallen to brown remnants for winter. And I laugh at the lone blue jay standing amidst the Canada geese calling out screeches of derision to the ever-growing colder autumn morning and my mind settles softly to the place where there is no thing but the calls of earth catching me breathless in anticipation for the most amazing coming experience of our lives...
Saturday, July 10, 2010
ultra update, art fair, butt balm
we saw bones and a bouncing baby. However, the little creature was sitting in a kind of floating lotus position so the tech and doc could not see the bottom of the spine or the genitalia.
we go back in two weeks cause i guess it is important to see the skin on the bottom of the spine. hopefully, our stubborn and active soon-to-be-child will be moving into a different comfortable position by then.
speaking of comfy positions, k's over at the shadow art fair right now sitting over the bike ypsi booth. we made a bunch of stuff to sell for donations for our sweet little bicycle group. HOLE stencils (for DIY marking of shabby, dangerous roads), butt balm, stickers, a kids, jankily thrown together coloring book and then a.c. put together more of his super fine pamphlets: ride in the winter, how to shop by bike, and riding legally in ypsi along with some great reflective decals. Plus we have t-shirts and some informational stuff.
Below please see my new drawing that adorns my homemade butt balm; the drawing for the balm says butt balm not what this one says, but i thought you'd all prefer this to "butt balm":
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we go back in two weeks cause i guess it is important to see the skin on the bottom of the spine. hopefully, our stubborn and active soon-to-be-child will be moving into a different comfortable position by then.
speaking of comfy positions, k's over at the shadow art fair right now sitting over the bike ypsi booth. we made a bunch of stuff to sell for donations for our sweet little bicycle group. HOLE stencils (for DIY marking of shabby, dangerous roads), butt balm, stickers, a kids, jankily thrown together coloring book and then a.c. put together more of his super fine pamphlets: ride in the winter, how to shop by bike, and riding legally in ypsi along with some great reflective decals. Plus we have t-shirts and some informational stuff.
Below please see my new drawing that adorns my homemade butt balm; the drawing for the balm says butt balm not what this one says, but i thought you'd all prefer this to "butt balm":
.jpg)
Thursday, January 21, 2010
cold fingers; cold toes; cold ass
there is something to waking up to a cold house and then layering your clothes to get ready for a cold bicycle ride and then venturing out the door in the morning to a brisk wind and the chill that it brings and then being in that cold for a good 50 minutes.
a cup of tea, and then another and another and another and another--maybe ten in total throughout the day--once at work--helps to warm the ass and fingers and toes. Because those are the extremities that get cold. Your core, this is your chest and upper and lower abdomen stay hot and toasty and even sweaty while riding in the winter in michigan. This is, of course, dependent on proper layering. Which I am quite a pro at now.
Anyhow, our boiler busted last Friday. It up and quit on us; the old thing had no life left in it. It had rusted through so badly on the bottom grate that burn marks had started to develop up the sides of the metal box inside. All in all, it is a good thing it died, cause we didn't burn up in our ancient wooden house.
See one time this wrinkled, old man who drove a beat up mini van with George Bush Senior Stickers coating the rear of it--like 25 identical stickers--came to our house to give us some advice on how we might convert our coal burner (no longer functioning) to a wood stove and also how much it would cost to re-line the chimney. His estimate was way high--like $3,000, but he did offer us a warning. He said, "you girls should have safety ladders in the bedrooms upstairs cause if your house ever catches on fire you will not escape using the stairway. the flames will draw up the stairs and you will be trapped up there."
I stood wide jawed and thanked him for his advice. I already have a chain linked ladder in our bedroom, but damn that was some scary advice.
Thus far, we have avoided death by boiler fire and have frozen our fannies off for a total of 6 days. After forking over $3,850, we will soon have heat via a new boiler system. I can no longer type this post cause my fingers are too cold...
a cup of tea, and then another and another and another and another--maybe ten in total throughout the day--once at work--helps to warm the ass and fingers and toes. Because those are the extremities that get cold. Your core, this is your chest and upper and lower abdomen stay hot and toasty and even sweaty while riding in the winter in michigan. This is, of course, dependent on proper layering. Which I am quite a pro at now.
Anyhow, our boiler busted last Friday. It up and quit on us; the old thing had no life left in it. It had rusted through so badly on the bottom grate that burn marks had started to develop up the sides of the metal box inside. All in all, it is a good thing it died, cause we didn't burn up in our ancient wooden house.
See one time this wrinkled, old man who drove a beat up mini van with George Bush Senior Stickers coating the rear of it--like 25 identical stickers--came to our house to give us some advice on how we might convert our coal burner (no longer functioning) to a wood stove and also how much it would cost to re-line the chimney. His estimate was way high--like $3,000, but he did offer us a warning. He said, "you girls should have safety ladders in the bedrooms upstairs cause if your house ever catches on fire you will not escape using the stairway. the flames will draw up the stairs and you will be trapped up there."
I stood wide jawed and thanked him for his advice. I already have a chain linked ladder in our bedroom, but damn that was some scary advice.
Thus far, we have avoided death by boiler fire and have frozen our fannies off for a total of 6 days. After forking over $3,850, we will soon have heat via a new boiler system. I can no longer type this post cause my fingers are too cold...
Sunday, January 3, 2010
our year in pictures--part 1
not that a year can belong to any human, but here are some of the things we did and loved while doing it...
I did not write about it here, but after the miscarriage, etc. k and i held a special ritual to say goodbye to that which could have been and the pain of trying to conceive for so long then having it happen so quickly then losing it all at once. our friend drew our blood and then we froze it and then we mixed it with soil from our yard and lavender from my garden and we burned flames and read poems and threw it all in the river that i love--huron.
herb and corn garden with bees--sweet lovely creatures that create life giving liquid. ever thankful is my heart for their existence.
and then we had chickens.
the front of the house where we make our lives. someday, i hope to build a bike rack with a thyme bed beneath it, so that when we lock our bicycles the deep green scent of thyme comes alive.
the community garden that i am steward of--we had a lot of gardeners.
that's my mama with me. we rode to the top of a hill in northern michigan. me and k whipped my ma into agonizing leg pain. but she loved it. and so did we.
at k's dad's place up north with my wee boy nephews and girl niece. my sis and her husband and ma and dad all came on vacay with us and we had a lovely time! I am so proud of my little sister; she is a very, very good mama (and her man a very good daddy) and their children become more amazing human beings every single day.
discovering karaoke with dear friends at this strange joint and the house dog a poodle with pink and purple dyed fur.
a mantis in northern michigan. how i love this part of the planet and all the creatures that roam here.
we dug a swale during my permaculture course with mid.west permaculture. it was sweaty and delightful.
our baby, bike ypsi, kept on cyling along. we held another spring ride and another fall ride and hosted all kinds of fun rides and participated in advocacy efforts. how i love to bicycle and how i love the community cycling creates.
a thatch roof we saw during my permaculture course field trip.
threw a big thanksgiving with k and a and had all our families over!
my love; my darling; my lifemate; my best friend in the whole damn world with the big lake behind her--the lake we both love the lake that feels ancient and cold and bigger than this little living we are doing here beneath the stars.
I did not write about it here, but after the miscarriage, etc. k and i held a special ritual to say goodbye to that which could have been and the pain of trying to conceive for so long then having it happen so quickly then losing it all at once. our friend drew our blood and then we froze it and then we mixed it with soil from our yard and lavender from my garden and we burned flames and read poems and threw it all in the river that i love--huron.
herb and corn garden with bees--sweet lovely creatures that create life giving liquid. ever thankful is my heart for their existence.
and then we had chickens.
the front of the house where we make our lives. someday, i hope to build a bike rack with a thyme bed beneath it, so that when we lock our bicycles the deep green scent of thyme comes alive.
the community garden that i am steward of--we had a lot of gardeners.
that's my mama with me. we rode to the top of a hill in northern michigan. me and k whipped my ma into agonizing leg pain. but she loved it. and so did we.
at k's dad's place up north with my wee boy nephews and girl niece. my sis and her husband and ma and dad all came on vacay with us and we had a lovely time! I am so proud of my little sister; she is a very, very good mama (and her man a very good daddy) and their children become more amazing human beings every single day.
discovering karaoke with dear friends at this strange joint and the house dog a poodle with pink and purple dyed fur.
a mantis in northern michigan. how i love this part of the planet and all the creatures that roam here.
we dug a swale during my permaculture course with mid.west permaculture. it was sweaty and delightful.
our baby, bike ypsi, kept on cyling along. we held another spring ride and another fall ride and hosted all kinds of fun rides and participated in advocacy efforts. how i love to bicycle and how i love the community cycling creates.
a thatch roof we saw during my permaculture course field trip.
threw a big thanksgiving with k and a and had all our families over!
my love; my darling; my lifemate; my best friend in the whole damn world with the big lake behind her--the lake we both love the lake that feels ancient and cold and bigger than this little living we are doing here beneath the stars.
Monday, November 9, 2009
good bye sabbatical
I've been back to work for one week.
It was hard diving in. I cried. Well, I wept hard.
I was scared that all my compassion had dried up and that stumbling back into the madness of direct connection to a justice system so full of injustice and ache and madness (not insightful madness, but the angry, heart wrenching madness of a system rusty at the root and too heavy with the bones of too many souls to turn in any degree of right direction) would be too difficult to stomach.
When the days were long and the flowers were blooming and life was pulsating in the perfect patterns of aliveness all around me this summer and early fall, I felt contentment. I also felt that deep satisfying exhaustion due to all of the hard physical labor I did around the yard (our little urban farm on the edge of some woods; the kind of wooded area in cities where dead, human bodies turn up--eerie woods I would not walk alone in at night).
Anyhow, I was so fortunate to have these many months off and explore the pieces of myself that have often been pushed asunder because so much of my time is spent working away from my homestead. When I list what I accomplished over the last 3.5 months it is quite amazing:
Scraped and painted front porch and railings
Got chickens
got bees
learned about beekeeping from my beekeeper mentor and some books
harvested over 2 gallons of honey two weeks ago by myself--well kk was my helper--but I did it without my mentor
rendered beeswax
made lip balm
built from scratch with no plans mobile chicken run for chickens
put together pre made coop and permanent chicken run
took a permaculture course and got a certificate
dug a four by four by four root cellar in the back yard
filled it with a shit load of michigan squash, onions, and soon some sweet potatoes
planted and tended gardens at home/gardens at community garden
made a lot of pies
went raspberry picking
went blueberry picking
made blueberry freezer jam
dehydrated a hell of a lot of roma tomatoes
taught myself to cook lamb shank
cooked a lot of good food from local farms and my own backyard
read some books
tended to kk's dying grandma
ushered in her death in our living room
eulogized grandma s at memorial service
spent a vacation up north with my sister,eo, her husband, the 3 wee ones, my ma and dad, k's dad, and grandma c and got along swimmingly
threw a great dinner party for my baby sister's,ea, pre-wedding celebration
stood up in aforementioned sister's wedding with kk and other sister
road my bicycle a lot
planted three american black currants, two precocious hazelnuts, one american hybrid chestnut, two beach plums, four regent serviceberries.
pulled out bushes in front yard including stumps, by hand, in order to plant the serviceberries
ran a chicken wire fence behind where the tall bushes once lived
went to reskilling festival and milked a goat
wrote
drew a little
loved a lot
enjoyed my friends
enjoyed sleeping
drank good beer
rested
got my hands dirty
hit 5,000 miles on my portland
loved some more
realized how much i love animal husbandry and how one day i want to keep goats too and homestead as full time as possible
so, I am back to work and I still have an ever-flowing chest of available compassion which I am thankful for. And I have the understanding hearts of people around me, at work, who are insisting that I not jump full force into the nitty gritty and that I be good to myself.
Good bye dear sabbatical; you were so good to me and my heart is better for having known you.
It was hard diving in. I cried. Well, I wept hard.
I was scared that all my compassion had dried up and that stumbling back into the madness of direct connection to a justice system so full of injustice and ache and madness (not insightful madness, but the angry, heart wrenching madness of a system rusty at the root and too heavy with the bones of too many souls to turn in any degree of right direction) would be too difficult to stomach.
When the days were long and the flowers were blooming and life was pulsating in the perfect patterns of aliveness all around me this summer and early fall, I felt contentment. I also felt that deep satisfying exhaustion due to all of the hard physical labor I did around the yard (our little urban farm on the edge of some woods; the kind of wooded area in cities where dead, human bodies turn up--eerie woods I would not walk alone in at night).
Anyhow, I was so fortunate to have these many months off and explore the pieces of myself that have often been pushed asunder because so much of my time is spent working away from my homestead. When I list what I accomplished over the last 3.5 months it is quite amazing:
Scraped and painted front porch and railings
Got chickens
got bees
learned about beekeeping from my beekeeper mentor and some books
harvested over 2 gallons of honey two weeks ago by myself--well kk was my helper--but I did it without my mentor
rendered beeswax
made lip balm
built from scratch with no plans mobile chicken run for chickens
put together pre made coop and permanent chicken run
took a permaculture course and got a certificate
dug a four by four by four root cellar in the back yard
filled it with a shit load of michigan squash, onions, and soon some sweet potatoes
planted and tended gardens at home/gardens at community garden
made a lot of pies
went raspberry picking
went blueberry picking
made blueberry freezer jam
dehydrated a hell of a lot of roma tomatoes
taught myself to cook lamb shank
cooked a lot of good food from local farms and my own backyard
read some books
tended to kk's dying grandma
ushered in her death in our living room
eulogized grandma s at memorial service
spent a vacation up north with my sister,eo, her husband, the 3 wee ones, my ma and dad, k's dad, and grandma c and got along swimmingly
threw a great dinner party for my baby sister's,ea, pre-wedding celebration
stood up in aforementioned sister's wedding with kk and other sister
road my bicycle a lot
planted three american black currants, two precocious hazelnuts, one american hybrid chestnut, two beach plums, four regent serviceberries.
pulled out bushes in front yard including stumps, by hand, in order to plant the serviceberries
ran a chicken wire fence behind where the tall bushes once lived
went to reskilling festival and milked a goat
wrote
drew a little
loved a lot
enjoyed my friends
enjoyed sleeping
drank good beer
rested
got my hands dirty
hit 5,000 miles on my portland
loved some more
realized how much i love animal husbandry and how one day i want to keep goats too and homestead as full time as possible
so, I am back to work and I still have an ever-flowing chest of available compassion which I am thankful for. And I have the understanding hearts of people around me, at work, who are insisting that I not jump full force into the nitty gritty and that I be good to myself.
Good bye dear sabbatical; you were so good to me and my heart is better for having known you.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
the story of k's 35th birthday and my last hurrah before returning to work--Part 1
the week of the 13th of october I headed out by my lonesome on a little adventure to kind of say goodbye to all of this time off. Two days were spent alone and then my love and many of my pals met me up north at all season's to help celebrate my lovely kk's 35th birthday.
On my alone adventure, I went to a bed and breakfast in bellaire, mi for one night and visited short's brewery. Short's makes delicious beer and sipping on two different lovely, hoppy beers off draft made me happy. I wandered down the brisk autumn michigan streets of a small northern, but not totally north town, back to my cozy b and b and took a warm bath in a deep, clawfoot tub. Then I slept and awoke to a yummy gourmet breakfast of mushroom oil infused spinach, feta eggs; brioche with orange sauce and cranberries; fresh berries with orange cream yogurt and fake sausage. I drank seven cups of coffee cause I was nervous which, of course, made me more than nervouse. All of the other guests were in their late 60s or early 70s and then there was little boy/girl me from ypsilanti.
treating myself to a b and b
then I headed out for a scenic drive to all season's (k's dad's rustic resort up in Carp Lake). I stopped at King Orchards and Friske Orchards and bought apples, honey, dried michigan cherries sweetened with apple juice, and apple butter. I slowly made my way to Carp Lake. I went on an 18 mile bike ride (which included a bit of the Mackinac to Petoskey rails to trails cause I put some cyclocross tires on my sweet, burly Portland) I cooked a small dinner for myself in K's dad's cabin and then sat with grandma C. We watched wheel of fortune and jeopardy.
Carp Lake Rails to Trails. On this trail I met a little old man with a rifle. He was very kind and hunting partridge, but really he was going for his second nature filled walk of the day.
Then I headed over to my cozy, little cabin (cabin number 1) and watched the American Masters' documentary on Joan Baez.
Then I slept and slept and slept. I fell to sleep at midnight and did not get out of bed till almost 11:00. It was a crazy deep sleep. The kind where you almost could adult wet the bed cause you are too passed out to wake and dreams of peeing start to filter through your mind...
Anyhow, the next day I took myself on a car tour through the tunnel of trees (M119) from Cross Village to Harbor Springs. I was going to ride my bike (lots of bicycley mags/articles touted the tunnel of trees as a great bicycling route). I am thankful I did not venture on the many miled trip cause it is a freaky road to drive in a car on let alone try to wind and wind and climb hills and wind and wind on a bicycle. It was gorgeous.
a view of the big lake from the tunnel of trees
I stopped at Pond Hill Farm and bought some awesome michigan apricot (the jar was consumed in something like four days by me) jam and some turnips and carrots for the stew that I made for k's b-day celebration.
Then I drove back to Carp Lake and wrapped k's b-day gifts and continued to draw pictures on the paper bag wrapping.
I read and relaxed and waited for my love to arrive. Finally, she drove in with the triple As (yes, three dear friends with names that start with A, and they all stayed in cabin number 3 together). We stayed up way to late talking and talking and laughing.
The next day some of the folks (all ladies) who had arrived on Thursday night and/or Friday morning went on a glorious hike along the wooded dunes of Lake Michigan. It poured on us. But it took two hours and was invigorating.
Ladies on the Lake Michigan's shore while hiking
After that big hike, I decided to ride my bike with T motion to Legs Inn where a bunch of us met for dinner on Friday night. It was freezing out; probably in the high 30s which is colder than usual around that time of year in Northern Michigan. T and I had a fun ride; we avoided most of the hills, and we made the 18 miles pretty quickly. We all gorged ourselves on lots of polish food and beer and then T and I (and our bicycles) both hitched rides home. I also got to try out my new bicycle helmet, head lamp that T had ordered for me and K a while back. His has been a hit around ypsi and now we have some to go with his!
Hockey at legs
Then we headed back to the cabins and drank bourbon and beer and played euchre and spoons in one cabin and then in another folks played apples to apples. The euchre cabin, where I was, was the X rated cabin; the apples to apples cabin, where K was for most of the night, was the PG cabin. We vividly and unabashedly discussed taint in the X rated cabin if that gives you any clue about the dirtiness.
The next day was Saturday, October 17th, K's 35th birthday. She is getting older and her eggs are drying up (which may or may not matter to us), but we had a glorious day. While the day was cold (in the 40s) the sun shone like mad. a bunch of us went on a good 24 mile bicycle ride around the shore of lake michigan into Mackinaw City and back to the resort. We took our time and marveled at the water and the wind and the sun and all the things that make me glad to be alive.
the birthday bike ride. all of us lookign up at birds that were almost black dots on the blue sky; they flew so high.
the rest of the 35th birthday weekend to be continued...sooner
On my alone adventure, I went to a bed and breakfast in bellaire, mi for one night and visited short's brewery. Short's makes delicious beer and sipping on two different lovely, hoppy beers off draft made me happy. I wandered down the brisk autumn michigan streets of a small northern, but not totally north town, back to my cozy b and b and took a warm bath in a deep, clawfoot tub. Then I slept and awoke to a yummy gourmet breakfast of mushroom oil infused spinach, feta eggs; brioche with orange sauce and cranberries; fresh berries with orange cream yogurt and fake sausage. I drank seven cups of coffee cause I was nervous which, of course, made me more than nervouse. All of the other guests were in their late 60s or early 70s and then there was little boy/girl me from ypsilanti.
treating myself to a b and b
then I headed out for a scenic drive to all season's (k's dad's rustic resort up in Carp Lake). I stopped at King Orchards and Friske Orchards and bought apples, honey, dried michigan cherries sweetened with apple juice, and apple butter. I slowly made my way to Carp Lake. I went on an 18 mile bike ride (which included a bit of the Mackinac to Petoskey rails to trails cause I put some cyclocross tires on my sweet, burly Portland) I cooked a small dinner for myself in K's dad's cabin and then sat with grandma C. We watched wheel of fortune and jeopardy.
Carp Lake Rails to Trails. On this trail I met a little old man with a rifle. He was very kind and hunting partridge, but really he was going for his second nature filled walk of the day.
Then I headed over to my cozy, little cabin (cabin number 1) and watched the American Masters' documentary on Joan Baez.
Then I slept and slept and slept. I fell to sleep at midnight and did not get out of bed till almost 11:00. It was a crazy deep sleep. The kind where you almost could adult wet the bed cause you are too passed out to wake and dreams of peeing start to filter through your mind...
Anyhow, the next day I took myself on a car tour through the tunnel of trees (M119) from Cross Village to Harbor Springs. I was going to ride my bike (lots of bicycley mags/articles touted the tunnel of trees as a great bicycling route). I am thankful I did not venture on the many miled trip cause it is a freaky road to drive in a car on let alone try to wind and wind and climb hills and wind and wind on a bicycle. It was gorgeous.
a view of the big lake from the tunnel of trees
I stopped at Pond Hill Farm and bought some awesome michigan apricot (the jar was consumed in something like four days by me) jam and some turnips and carrots for the stew that I made for k's b-day celebration.
Then I drove back to Carp Lake and wrapped k's b-day gifts and continued to draw pictures on the paper bag wrapping.
I read and relaxed and waited for my love to arrive. Finally, she drove in with the triple As (yes, three dear friends with names that start with A, and they all stayed in cabin number 3 together). We stayed up way to late talking and talking and laughing.
The next day some of the folks (all ladies) who had arrived on Thursday night and/or Friday morning went on a glorious hike along the wooded dunes of Lake Michigan. It poured on us. But it took two hours and was invigorating.
Ladies on the Lake Michigan's shore while hiking
After that big hike, I decided to ride my bike with T motion to Legs Inn where a bunch of us met for dinner on Friday night. It was freezing out; probably in the high 30s which is colder than usual around that time of year in Northern Michigan. T and I had a fun ride; we avoided most of the hills, and we made the 18 miles pretty quickly. We all gorged ourselves on lots of polish food and beer and then T and I (and our bicycles) both hitched rides home. I also got to try out my new bicycle helmet, head lamp that T had ordered for me and K a while back. His has been a hit around ypsi and now we have some to go with his!
Hockey at legs
Then we headed back to the cabins and drank bourbon and beer and played euchre and spoons in one cabin and then in another folks played apples to apples. The euchre cabin, where I was, was the X rated cabin; the apples to apples cabin, where K was for most of the night, was the PG cabin. We vividly and unabashedly discussed taint in the X rated cabin if that gives you any clue about the dirtiness.
The next day was Saturday, October 17th, K's 35th birthday. She is getting older and her eggs are drying up (which may or may not matter to us), but we had a glorious day. While the day was cold (in the 40s) the sun shone like mad. a bunch of us went on a good 24 mile bicycle ride around the shore of lake michigan into Mackinaw City and back to the resort. We took our time and marveled at the water and the wind and the sun and all the things that make me glad to be alive.
the birthday bike ride. all of us lookign up at birds that were almost black dots on the blue sky; they flew so high.
the rest of the 35th birthday weekend to be continued...sooner
Monday, September 7, 2009
coop, insects, photos
soon chickens will be living in here
Right now my body is hurting with some deep muscle pain from hours of scraping and prepping our front porch for a new coat of paint, priming the clothesline poles and the porch rail, and helping to carry an enormous chicken coop over our fence and then screwing it together (at one point k and I almost literally appeared to be screwing the chicken ramp cause it landed between our legs while drilling up under the house).
Besides house improvements and mini-urban farming, I've also been riding plenty of mileage on my bicycle. I am up to 4,400 miles.
Lately, I have this obsession with insects and eugene o'neill. Below are some pictures I took on one of my bike rides down by the river i love.
ladybug
many at work
grapes
alone at work
sumac
Friday, May 8, 2009
more on rivers
I’ve got veins all over me and through me. I see river veins running near to me and their sometimes murky, sometimes glass-like surfaces pierce through my heart like a million sharp stone arrows leaving me breathless, leaving me satisfied with a painful depth of joy that raises tender scar bumps on my skin.
Yesterday, riding fast along the river that I love, the fog of a chilly but warming morning hung in misty ribbons over the trembling water. The birds went about their business building nests and tending to their little ones and beckoning the coming of rain with their varied voices—calling tangy toned notes, shrill and lovely.
I spotted the first orioles I have seen this spring—startled and gladdened by their bright orange under bellies, I stopped to pay closer attention to their proud black heads—slick and serious in the gray morning light.
I pedaled on and watched all the living things moving in some kind of perfect unison around me and wanted just to be there for always and not to emerge up the cemented hill from the river valley through the neighborhood where wealthy people live in too big of houses.
Everyday it is like this. I am tempted by a river to stay low and fast to its banks—to hover lightly on the edges of that in between place. That place where I do not have to think about suffering and violence and the ever-growing emergence of more and more injustice.
On some days, I wish I had become an ornithologist or a botanist or something not so connected to the intricacies of the human ability to think (or not think) and hurt (or not hurt) and love (or not love) or spread meanness (or not spread meanness). I wish for the lazy river to cover me constantly and make it all better. It does—in those hazy morning moments when I am captured in the river valley apart from the mayhem on the hill.
Yesterday, riding fast along the river that I love, the fog of a chilly but warming morning hung in misty ribbons over the trembling water. The birds went about their business building nests and tending to their little ones and beckoning the coming of rain with their varied voices—calling tangy toned notes, shrill and lovely.
I spotted the first orioles I have seen this spring—startled and gladdened by their bright orange under bellies, I stopped to pay closer attention to their proud black heads—slick and serious in the gray morning light.
I pedaled on and watched all the living things moving in some kind of perfect unison around me and wanted just to be there for always and not to emerge up the cemented hill from the river valley through the neighborhood where wealthy people live in too big of houses.
Everyday it is like this. I am tempted by a river to stay low and fast to its banks—to hover lightly on the edges of that in between place. That place where I do not have to think about suffering and violence and the ever-growing emergence of more and more injustice.
On some days, I wish I had become an ornithologist or a botanist or something not so connected to the intricacies of the human ability to think (or not think) and hurt (or not hurt) and love (or not love) or spread meanness (or not spread meanness). I wish for the lazy river to cover me constantly and make it all better. It does—in those hazy morning moments when I am captured in the river valley apart from the mayhem on the hill.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
3000 miles
On Friday, April 24 (which also happened to be my 33rd birthday), I hit 3,000 miles on my bicycle--the good old Portland. I was particularly happy cause it happened in the a park I love beside the River I love. I rode 3,000 in less than 11 months--it is a nice number--3,000.
Since February 7, I have rode 632 miles--this is mostly commuting mileage! So, I really have gotten my physical stride back since all that was once alive in me died and came spilling out between my legs. However, to be honest, I have not gotten my emotional stride back and that leaves my body feeling fatigued and worried and all out of whack.
So, if I am a bit missing in action from this blog, it is because I am a bit missing in action from my own life. I keep on keeping on, but things are muddled and foggy and heavy right now.
Back to the 3,000--a lovely number; the number I hit on my birthday! hooray.
Since February 7, I have rode 632 miles--this is mostly commuting mileage! So, I really have gotten my physical stride back since all that was once alive in me died and came spilling out between my legs. However, to be honest, I have not gotten my emotional stride back and that leaves my body feeling fatigued and worried and all out of whack.
So, if I am a bit missing in action from this blog, it is because I am a bit missing in action from my own life. I keep on keeping on, but things are muddled and foggy and heavy right now.
Back to the 3,000--a lovely number; the number I hit on my birthday! hooray.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
a sunday walk--in photos
oh sign that made me know the day was today
[I can barely type cause my fingertips took almost two hours of beating this morning on my ride into work. I flatted for the first time on the Portland. I put 2897 miles on it before the rear tube finally went fizzle, flat. I was dripping wet and cold (it was only abut 36 degrees), but I finally made it to work and that subject is not the point of this post.]
The point of the post is to give you all a little photo essay of my sunday walk around ypsilanti. Over the last many months, I've made it a bit of a habit to take my camera on my long walks through the town I love. Ypsilanti is old and there hangs on the streets and building the energies of people and animals and other living things gone by and then there are still the living things--enormous oak trees, the ever living Huron River, the people old and young, and the birds plentiful and lovely in sound and sight.
this river i love
a bike at the bus station
the buds are erupting
blue behind fence
kissing birds in the stone yard
after the walk; drinking dark horse crooked tree ipa and reading poetry on the porch
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
updates-emotions, bicycles, and baby-dreams
it has been a hard few weeks.
my emotions have bounced around from feeling pretty normal--content--and laughing a lot to feeling weepy and out of control.
I went back to work last week and it went okay. I made it through, but my heart is not totally present in the field of caring about others, right now, cause I am still focusing on me.
And I think that is totally fine.
I mean really I feel like a wet towel that has been rung out and then hung out on the porch to dry and then drenched again with a cold down pour of winter rain then rung out again and hung out again and on and on.
But through all of this, k and I have been supported by such loving and supportive friends. Good people who have held us by being in their presences, by showering us with kind words, with dinner, with company, with laughter, with camaraderie.
It is so good to be loved so well.
I'm back on my bicycle. I rode on Saturday with kk and hit 2,400 miles on my 9 month old Trek Portland. My plans for more mileage by the bicycle's first birthday were interrupted by the whole pregnancy and then the lack there of. So, now I am hoping to get back up to good mileage by commuting as many days of the week as I can. My dream is to hit 4,000 miles by the end of May--my baby bike's first birthday. It is really a long shot, but...
On Sunday, i fixed up my Redline 925. I put on new brake pads and fixed the rear tire and took her on a sweet little ride around town.
Yesterday and today, I rode my Portland to and from work and my crotch is tender. I had not been on my bike since December 8 which is a really long time for me. I Forgot what a hard, slender seat can do to those tender, fleshy parts. But, all in all, it feels so good; it feels good to have these controllable parts of my life back.
I started looking for therapists this week, too. And my initial visits have been exhausting. I have been revisiting the traumatic parts of the last few months and that causes a lot of residue to surface.
Last night I dreamed that kk gave birth to a baby and we were putting the baby up for adoption. This brother and sister were adopting the kid, but I was arguing about how we had tried for so long to get pregnant we couldn't give the baby away. And then I won the argument and we took back the baby and we were both breastfeeding her.
That is only the second pregnancy/baby dream I have ever had in my whole life. I had one dream when I first found out I was pregnant and once again it involved me breast feeding the infant.
I'm not sure what the dream last night means, but I think it has something to do with letting go.
Tomorrow is our 9 year anniversary. So long we have had this love; we have been through been through thick messes and clear loveliness. tomorrow I'll write an ode to my kk here on this good old blog.
my emotions have bounced around from feeling pretty normal--content--and laughing a lot to feeling weepy and out of control.
I went back to work last week and it went okay. I made it through, but my heart is not totally present in the field of caring about others, right now, cause I am still focusing on me.
And I think that is totally fine.
I mean really I feel like a wet towel that has been rung out and then hung out on the porch to dry and then drenched again with a cold down pour of winter rain then rung out again and hung out again and on and on.
But through all of this, k and I have been supported by such loving and supportive friends. Good people who have held us by being in their presences, by showering us with kind words, with dinner, with company, with laughter, with camaraderie.
It is so good to be loved so well.
I'm back on my bicycle. I rode on Saturday with kk and hit 2,400 miles on my 9 month old Trek Portland. My plans for more mileage by the bicycle's first birthday were interrupted by the whole pregnancy and then the lack there of. So, now I am hoping to get back up to good mileage by commuting as many days of the week as I can. My dream is to hit 4,000 miles by the end of May--my baby bike's first birthday. It is really a long shot, but...
On Sunday, i fixed up my Redline 925. I put on new brake pads and fixed the rear tire and took her on a sweet little ride around town.
Yesterday and today, I rode my Portland to and from work and my crotch is tender. I had not been on my bike since December 8 which is a really long time for me. I Forgot what a hard, slender seat can do to those tender, fleshy parts. But, all in all, it feels so good; it feels good to have these controllable parts of my life back.
I started looking for therapists this week, too. And my initial visits have been exhausting. I have been revisiting the traumatic parts of the last few months and that causes a lot of residue to surface.
Last night I dreamed that kk gave birth to a baby and we were putting the baby up for adoption. This brother and sister were adopting the kid, but I was arguing about how we had tried for so long to get pregnant we couldn't give the baby away. And then I won the argument and we took back the baby and we were both breastfeeding her.
That is only the second pregnancy/baby dream I have ever had in my whole life. I had one dream when I first found out I was pregnant and once again it involved me breast feeding the infant.
I'm not sure what the dream last night means, but I think it has something to do with letting go.
Tomorrow is our 9 year anniversary. So long we have had this love; we have been through been through thick messes and clear loveliness. tomorrow I'll write an ode to my kk here on this good old blog.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
fixing my gaze on other things
still bleeding. still having cramps here and there. wanting it to be over and done with. thursday night was the worst so far. I was up all night with pretty hard cramping. every hour i got up to piss and a quarter size clot would disembark from my vaginal canal into the not so sacred place of toilet water.
i'm trying to just go on with life, minus work. I skipped work last week. I hung out with k at her work on thursday anticipating hard pain. But the pain did not come until that night. I went for a walk yesterday with pookah, our sweet whippet. I walked through the pain of some pretty heavy cramping and felt better for it upon my return home.
my plan now is to train hard. after that which once lived within me is totally expelled from my womb, I plan to get back into the groove of cycling hard and fast and long. My new goal is to participate in the ODRAM (a ride across michigan in one day--150 miles) in september of 2009. last year 20-25 miles a day was normal for me. This year I want a 30-40 mile ride to be normal for me.
I also cannot wait for spring. I look forward to gardening like a mad woman. I might not be able to grow a human just yet, but I sure can grow living things that come out of the earth. I'm really going to focus on herbs this year. I want to quadruple my chamomile plants. I am hoping to get some bergamot growing throughout my yard. I want to up the ante with lavender and coriander (I've already used up all of my coriander from last harvest). and I also want to explore the possibilities for creating my own herbal essential oils...
i am focusing on things far away from the creation of children. i have to to keep my sanity. as i explained to the midwife on the phone after she confirmed the miscarriage was happening (which was first confirmed by the really calm and nice ultra sound tech), there have been two wombs involved in all of this trying and loss and it has been going on for almost two years and it is tiring and trying.
so on to other things that give me the deepest sense of being alive--physical activities out and about in the beautiful surroundings of this earth and growing things in the soil then harvesting them and taking the bounty into my being and providing sustenance for the bodies of the people I love.
at night the emptiness of what we have constructed as a desire for our lives--the desire for children + the absence of those children = the emptiness--does surface and haunt my heart, but I steady my gaze on other life-giving ideas and plans and then it doesn't hurt so bad.
i'm trying to just go on with life, minus work. I skipped work last week. I hung out with k at her work on thursday anticipating hard pain. But the pain did not come until that night. I went for a walk yesterday with pookah, our sweet whippet. I walked through the pain of some pretty heavy cramping and felt better for it upon my return home.
my plan now is to train hard. after that which once lived within me is totally expelled from my womb, I plan to get back into the groove of cycling hard and fast and long. My new goal is to participate in the ODRAM (a ride across michigan in one day--150 miles) in september of 2009. last year 20-25 miles a day was normal for me. This year I want a 30-40 mile ride to be normal for me.
I also cannot wait for spring. I look forward to gardening like a mad woman. I might not be able to grow a human just yet, but I sure can grow living things that come out of the earth. I'm really going to focus on herbs this year. I want to quadruple my chamomile plants. I am hoping to get some bergamot growing throughout my yard. I want to up the ante with lavender and coriander (I've already used up all of my coriander from last harvest). and I also want to explore the possibilities for creating my own herbal essential oils...
i am focusing on things far away from the creation of children. i have to to keep my sanity. as i explained to the midwife on the phone after she confirmed the miscarriage was happening (which was first confirmed by the really calm and nice ultra sound tech), there have been two wombs involved in all of this trying and loss and it has been going on for almost two years and it is tiring and trying.
so on to other things that give me the deepest sense of being alive--physical activities out and about in the beautiful surroundings of this earth and growing things in the soil then harvesting them and taking the bounty into my being and providing sustenance for the bodies of the people I love.
at night the emptiness of what we have constructed as a desire for our lives--the desire for children + the absence of those children = the emptiness--does surface and haunt my heart, but I steady my gaze on other life-giving ideas and plans and then it doesn't hurt so bad.
Monday, October 20, 2008
2000 and 34 and 2
Big numbers came to visit me over the last week.
Early last week I hit 2000 miles on my Trek Portland. I purchased it the last week of May and then was unable to ride it for almost 7 days cause I was gone to Philly for work. So in 4 and a half months I put 2000 miles on the thing!! woo hoo. Right now, the odometer reads 2060! So I am on track for hitting 5000 in one year!
On Friday my kk turned 34! I've known her since she was 24. She is growing older with grace and her beautiful heart makes me so proud. We celebrated her birthday in detroit. We actually stayed there at the RenCen thursday and friday for the NLG Convention. We were there for work and mixed two days of fun with it. R and A stayed with us in a hotel room and we were able to spend good quality time with the two of them and have fun and lounge around and get some work in all at the same time.
the rencen from the riverwalk
On K's birthday we walked the Detroit river walk and checked out the labor sculpture in hart plaza and went to supper at a not so good restaurant, but we had fun with good friends. And then we ended up at Cliff Bell's and had a great time listening to some local jazz.
me in front of broken chains; part of the hart plaza labor legacy landmark. the sculpture really moved me as it coincided with the one of the themes of the weekend--social justice and prisoner rights!
more of the labor legacy landmark...
And then on Sunday, we--the spokespeople of bike ypsi--held our 2nd Fall ride. It was a good day. Lots of new folks came out for pedaling.
ready to ride
happy after the ride
In trying to get pregnant land--kk started her period again today. and so it is...
Early last week I hit 2000 miles on my Trek Portland. I purchased it the last week of May and then was unable to ride it for almost 7 days cause I was gone to Philly for work. So in 4 and a half months I put 2000 miles on the thing!! woo hoo. Right now, the odometer reads 2060! So I am on track for hitting 5000 in one year!
On Friday my kk turned 34! I've known her since she was 24. She is growing older with grace and her beautiful heart makes me so proud. We celebrated her birthday in detroit. We actually stayed there at the RenCen thursday and friday for the NLG Convention. We were there for work and mixed two days of fun with it. R and A stayed with us in a hotel room and we were able to spend good quality time with the two of them and have fun and lounge around and get some work in all at the same time.
the rencen from the riverwalk
On K's birthday we walked the Detroit river walk and checked out the labor sculpture in hart plaza and went to supper at a not so good restaurant, but we had fun with good friends. And then we ended up at Cliff Bell's and had a great time listening to some local jazz.
me in front of broken chains; part of the hart plaza labor legacy landmark. the sculpture really moved me as it coincided with the one of the themes of the weekend--social justice and prisoner rights!
more of the labor legacy landmark...
And then on Sunday, we--the spokespeople of bike ypsi--held our 2nd Fall ride. It was a good day. Lots of new folks came out for pedaling.
ready to ride
happy after the ride
In trying to get pregnant land--kk started her period again today. and so it is...
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
my girl is so hot and fast!
today k and i rode home from work in 90 degree heat; it was steamy.
so, we were riding along--kind of slow cause my knee is still all fucky, but not too slow by any means--and this macho dude on his bicycle zooms past us on the grass on the right of the path we were riding on. He totally startled me and the move was straight up rude (bike rules are like car rules pass on the left).
His move made me think that he was showing off his speediness and being a semi-asshole.
Now, my kk can ride fast. she can ride like the wind. she is determined and persistent and fucking hot as hell on her new surly long haul trucker with its bar end shifters. Have i ever reflected here about how sexy i think women are when driving stick shift cars? well, i have the same reaction to women and bar end shifters--there is a loveliness in the arms of women as they reach from the top of the handle bars to the ends and the little motion it takes to shift.
so, i whispered over to kk, "go pass that guy. you can ride way faster than he can. go blow his overly zealous shared path passing ass for a whirl. seriously, go ahead; i'll catch up with ya later."
she smiled and busted a hot and beautiful move. she picked up speed; blew past him on the left, after calling out "on your left." and then she was gone and the right hand passer was left in the dust of my hotty.
I found her later at the end of the path. she was waiting for me all sweaty and gorgeous with a smirk on her summer face.
she is also extra hot cause she started the clomid and it makes her sweat. her period is done and over. she has one clomid left and then we wait for the great egg drop followed by another do it at home with injector injecting sperm sloshing party.
but back to my baby on a bicycle; she is really so strong and sexy. her calves are like carved marble rocks--elegant and shapely and when she pedals fast and hard like she did today, well she makes me kind of pant in my pants...
so, we were riding along--kind of slow cause my knee is still all fucky, but not too slow by any means--and this macho dude on his bicycle zooms past us on the grass on the right of the path we were riding on. He totally startled me and the move was straight up rude (bike rules are like car rules pass on the left).
His move made me think that he was showing off his speediness and being a semi-asshole.
Now, my kk can ride fast. she can ride like the wind. she is determined and persistent and fucking hot as hell on her new surly long haul trucker with its bar end shifters. Have i ever reflected here about how sexy i think women are when driving stick shift cars? well, i have the same reaction to women and bar end shifters--there is a loveliness in the arms of women as they reach from the top of the handle bars to the ends and the little motion it takes to shift.
so, i whispered over to kk, "go pass that guy. you can ride way faster than he can. go blow his overly zealous shared path passing ass for a whirl. seriously, go ahead; i'll catch up with ya later."
she smiled and busted a hot and beautiful move. she picked up speed; blew past him on the left, after calling out "on your left." and then she was gone and the right hand passer was left in the dust of my hotty.
I found her later at the end of the path. she was waiting for me all sweaty and gorgeous with a smirk on her summer face.
she is also extra hot cause she started the clomid and it makes her sweat. her period is done and over. she has one clomid left and then we wait for the great egg drop followed by another do it at home with injector injecting sperm sloshing party.
but back to my baby on a bicycle; she is really so strong and sexy. her calves are like carved marble rocks--elegant and shapely and when she pedals fast and hard like she did today, well she makes me kind of pant in my pants...
Monday, July 7, 2008
too many days; too much writing; but oh so much fun
i will not moan.
i will not groan.
the days have been beautiful. full of life and sun and friends and family and goodness and things growing.
i've been evaluating and evaluating my life. and soon i will have to start to take some action on what i want to do with the rest of my living when it comes to work.
but in the meantime, this weekend was good in spite of that unending feeling of sadness that seems to have wedged itself in my gut and heart for sometime to come.
so, on friday i rode in the ypsilanti fourth of july parade with a group of twenty bike ypsi folks. we came out in our neverending unusualness--families, avid cyclists, man with a hand-pedaled bicycle, punk rock kids and punk rock elders, and me in my 4th of july pants.
i am not patriotic--far from it--but red white and blue make good striped pants and i rode with my one less car banner taped to my bicycle and others had great messages about stopping dependence on oil for transportation and stopping the war connected to that dependence; it was all beautiful and simultaneously subversive in its own local way!
then we headed to my aunt m and uncle e's for a party with our friends t-motion and mandark and remus. we drank piss water beer and ate yummy food and i got to see my cousin c and her man j and their chitlins. then we all headed to my sister's and hung out and kk, remus, t-motion, and mandark all drank a lot of mojitos and some of them swam and i shot the shit out with my dad and watched huey lewis and the news play music in front of the white house on some pbs fourth of july special. then some of us crashed at my sis's and t-motion and mandark crashed at my parents and listened to my parents tell crazy ass stories about me.
the next day, saturday, we went home. of course.
i mowed the lawn and did yard work.
then we went to kensington metro park with t and r and rode our bikes into island lake state park. we had a delightful picnic--basil, caper pasta; garlicky fava beans; goat cheese, gouda, and munster with crackers; corn on the cob; watermelon; fake oreos; blueberries, and wine. we talked, laughed and rode a good 16 miles through meadows and shadey wooded areas. then i stripped under a towel and put on some old shorts and jumped in a lake and swam and kk joined me and we tuckered ourselves out. it was a calm and good day; a day with people who love me and k for all of who we are and with our flaws included, a day that helped me dig out a little from this ever-creeping sadness.
on sunday, we slept till 10:00--yes 10:00. i woke and went directly to the back yard and weeded and weeded and weeded and weeded. i like to weed. i weed when i am waiting. i weed when i need peace. i love that weeding is always needed. i do love it.
then we went on a good, long sunday bike ride with 12 other folks who came out for our weekly bike ypsi rides.
then we had a spontaneous (kind of) bbq with t and r and tc and j. again, we ate delicious food. vegan pesto pasta, veggie and fake sausage and veggie and shrimp shish kabobs, bbq sauce quorn roll ups (salad and cilantro with grilled quorn naked patties and bbq sauce), black bean dip and tortilla chips, and rhubarb sauce/fresh strawberry drenched angel food cake with vanilla ice cream for dessert. we drank beer, sangria and mojitos (i only drank the beer) and talked and enjoyed dusk.
monday, i did not work. my 5 year old nephew, m, spent the day with me and we had a blast. i picked him up at a storage unit in plymouth (his dad was there for his new job) at 9:30a.m. and he stayed with me until 8:30. a long and lovely day. this was his birthday present (his birthday was in may). we drove to ann arbor and i ate breakfast; he had half a cookie and took the other half over to kk at her work.
we then walked to the comic book store where i proceeded to buy him a demon figurine (i did not know that spawn = satan's fallen. m and his family are believers/christians. but the figurine is super cool). Then we had an almost pee accident, but we ran like olympic sprinters through the streets of ann arbor. and we made it.
then we took kk over to the bike shop to drop off her bicycle so that it gets new brake pads and a tune up. we got m a new helmet (his ma asked me to) and then we ate some sushi (m wanted it).
then we dropped k back at work and micah and i went cheese tasting. the whole point of our day together was centered around this cheese. the plan was (and unfolded as planned) to make macaroni and cheese together and then his mom and dad and brother and sister and kk would all be at my house for dinner! M loves cheese and he picked a lovely, grassy montgomery cheddar and a mild but earthy chantal for the mac and cheese.
we came home and made the cheesy noodle goopiness. M shredded like a mad shredder and he whisked the cheesy sauce with amazing gentleness. then, we took pookah the whippet for a walk. micah discovered the ball launcher, and, after pookah tired, he continued to sling the ball very far and run to boy-fetch it.
we clipped kale from both of my gardens and made it home before a thunderstorm. while it stormed, we sat in our "new" art room (k and i have been rearranging our former male-rental space--we used to rent our back room out and two men at two different times were our only renters--into an art room. we had to smudge it profusely to get the strange ass energy that had landed there out) we drew large veggie mania signs (the name of our dinner service for the evening).
then kk came home all wet from the storm. shortly after her arrival, M's family arrived and we baked the mac and cheese and steamed all of the kale and then we ate and ate.
we listened to music and micah's little sister,a, danced to the banjo picking, foot stomping tunes and micah's big brother,j, listened with an ear intent on figuring out what instrument he wants to dedicate his time to.
kk and aylathere was more but i am now breathless and ready for bed.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
where i've been
I've been riding my bicycle--my new bicycle! It is a bicycle with gears; I've been riding a single gear for over a year and distances and hills proved to be a little strenuous with her, but she is still my baby. my new gear bike is a Trek Portland (last year's model. The store I bought her from had a frame my size and had marked it down nearly $500; I could not pass. I call her burnt cause of her color.
I've put 314 miles on burnt in less than three weeks and most of those miles are from commuting to and from work and tooling around both the towns that I spend most of my time in--Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor.
I've also have been tending to raising up some plants in the back bedroom. I have a shitload of tomatoes ready to go, some cucumbers, a small variety of chilis and habaneros, parsley, bachelor buttons, and zinnias. Plus a tray of plants I bought from my favorite non-profit Growing Hope that I am just now ready to put in the ground (we've had a real spring; one with cool, cool nights and brisk sunshiny days). This tray includes fennel, cilantro, chamomile, and basil and some dinosaur kale and another kale from my friend A who runs Growing Hope.
Plus I have lots and lots of lettuce seeds (though one of my packages was just straight up empty when I opened it) and green beans and peas and beets (which I am getting in to the ground too late, but oh well).
Besides tending to my veggie gardens, I've also been trying to boost up our various perennial gardens (we have one in front that is shady, a small one along side of the north side of our house that gets minimal sun, one in the very back that needs more pea gravel for the paths and some massive weeding and mulching, and another on the south side of the house that leaves something to be desired.
But yesterday, I went to my sister's house (this house was the house my mother grew up in, and so it has all of my grandmother's gardening work etched into the yard). My sister is not a gardener; in fact, her yard--formerly my grammy's amazing garden--has gone to weed. So, my sister is converting this potentially gorgeous yard back to sod:(. But, I drove downriver yesterday and met my ma and grammy there and went to town digging up my grammy's treasured perennials. I claimed two bleeding hearts, four ferns, one woodrose, a slew of hollyhocks, some checkered lillys, an astilbe, a hearty geranium, a naked lady, a large hyacinth, and some ground cover that has dainty pink flowers on it. I dug em all up and brought them home and planted them all in the ground and now my body is sore.
Speaking of all of this planting. We tried three times last week to make kk pregnant. I have lost faith in this DIY process, but I am trying to stay positive for her even though for some reason i think the sperm is just not sticking.
We've got a good, good woman on our side, now. She is a midwife who does IUIs and sperm washing and all that stuff. We were going to try that all this time around, but kk ovulated earlier than we thought she would, so all of the timing for the jiz, the wash, the kid sitting, and the IUI process was askew. But, K finally has a script to get her progesterone tested and she will work this out next week.
so, here's to waiting yet again and getting my hopes up even though that feels ridiculous; planting things in the grounds; and riding bicycles often!
I've put 314 miles on burnt in less than three weeks and most of those miles are from commuting to and from work and tooling around both the towns that I spend most of my time in--Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor.
I've also have been tending to raising up some plants in the back bedroom. I have a shitload of tomatoes ready to go, some cucumbers, a small variety of chilis and habaneros, parsley, bachelor buttons, and zinnias. Plus a tray of plants I bought from my favorite non-profit Growing Hope that I am just now ready to put in the ground (we've had a real spring; one with cool, cool nights and brisk sunshiny days). This tray includes fennel, cilantro, chamomile, and basil and some dinosaur kale and another kale from my friend A who runs Growing Hope.
Plus I have lots and lots of lettuce seeds (though one of my packages was just straight up empty when I opened it) and green beans and peas and beets (which I am getting in to the ground too late, but oh well).
Besides tending to my veggie gardens, I've also been trying to boost up our various perennial gardens (we have one in front that is shady, a small one along side of the north side of our house that gets minimal sun, one in the very back that needs more pea gravel for the paths and some massive weeding and mulching, and another on the south side of the house that leaves something to be desired.
But yesterday, I went to my sister's house (this house was the house my mother grew up in, and so it has all of my grandmother's gardening work etched into the yard). My sister is not a gardener; in fact, her yard--formerly my grammy's amazing garden--has gone to weed. So, my sister is converting this potentially gorgeous yard back to sod:(. But, I drove downriver yesterday and met my ma and grammy there and went to town digging up my grammy's treasured perennials. I claimed two bleeding hearts, four ferns, one woodrose, a slew of hollyhocks, some checkered lillys, an astilbe, a hearty geranium, a naked lady, a large hyacinth, and some ground cover that has dainty pink flowers on it. I dug em all up and brought them home and planted them all in the ground and now my body is sore.
Speaking of all of this planting. We tried three times last week to make kk pregnant. I have lost faith in this DIY process, but I am trying to stay positive for her even though for some reason i think the sperm is just not sticking.
We've got a good, good woman on our side, now. She is a midwife who does IUIs and sperm washing and all that stuff. We were going to try that all this time around, but kk ovulated earlier than we thought she would, so all of the timing for the jiz, the wash, the kid sitting, and the IUI process was askew. But, K finally has a script to get her progesterone tested and she will work this out next week.
so, here's to waiting yet again and getting my hopes up even though that feels ridiculous; planting things in the grounds; and riding bicycles often!
Thursday, May 8, 2008
i'm still tired, but some reflections on a good day
this week has been pressing on my heart like an overloaded semi-truck. I am glad tomorrow is friday.
We really had an amazing start to the week (sans the fact that kk started bleeding again). Sunday was our bike ypsispring ride and festival. we had blue skies, sunshiny weather; great attendance and great moments of cohesion and goodness among people in community. That to me is what this bike ypsi is all about--folks coming together and creating sustainable, meaningful community! We succeeded and we will continue to succeed in making ypsilanti a super bicycle friendly community; we will be a presence on the streets and in the parks and in the common, shared spaces that we are fortunate enough to be able to walk through and ride through and exist in.
It was so excellent to have between 100 and 130 people out in the park enjoying simple food (all donated except for the hot dogs and veggie dogs), tooling around on bicycles, roaming by booths that focused on healthy living and bicycles (yet again bicycles), and lazing about in the fifth month's clear and crisp air.
But the day and the days up till the bike ypsi day drained my energy. By the end of sunday i could barely move and monday i had a hard time rolling out of bed and making my way via bicycle (yet again bicycles) to work.
And then work...oh work...oh the work...oh justice work...oh fighting for something that resembles some version of someone's or some people's justice. i will not go into detail about the horrendous abuses and violence and fucking shit that i soak up at work on certain days, but i will say that i searched out a new therapist this week. I looked for therapists who work with activists and found none.
So, while i love bike ypsi and i love helping to organize all of us people to do good and healing things in my own community, when my energy gets zapped and then i have to jump right back into my paid work with no quiet, no breaks, no nothing but the incessant reminders that we treat people like shit and they in turn treat others like shit and the cycle goes on and on and on, then i feel the crashing reverberations of a burgeoning semi riding the bones of my rib cage as if it were a highway to hell.
All in all, i am tired and I need to heed the words of Chickasaw poet, Linda Hogan, "You have to have time, and you have to have quiet. We don't take that often enough. I like to take a day off every week not to do anything. Not take off work to do other work, or chores, but take a day off. It's an incredible experience. Magic happens."
Friday, April 4, 2008
My own miracle
Waiting to see if any of the sperms decided to linger on and meet up with an egg, is like an old dry habit now. I think the dryness of the habit could actually translate into my own personal hopelessness about the possibility of this baby-making ever really happening at all. My waiting period has been consumed by a sort of dark void. I really just have not been thinking about it much.
Mostly, I’ve been glum and disenchanted. I like to slink back into this rubbery shell that is not very protective and moan in my own head about the futility of all of this stuff we do called living.
And then I get gentle, life affirming bumps out of it. Yes,Dr. Kingdid fight hard for something better; he even was killed for his revolutionary ideas and yes those ideas got more and more revolutionary as he got older…and that is something to hold on to hope about, cause so many people seem to fizzle on their revolutionary thinking as they get older and more ingrained into this messy system of profit and production over everything meaningful and right and life-giving.
And I also get bumped out of the glum by little, mundane miracles. Yesterday, I had a hell of a ride to work. My back tire blew on Wednesday (I, sans tool kit, was left walking all over ann arbor for a tire and tube and wrench). Thursday morning after much fussing with my new tire, I still could not get it to stop rubbing my fenders so I took it up the road to the bike shop and a nice fellow raised my fenders and trued some of my spokes and made it spin without rubbing. Then I took off for work on my trusty, freshly tired vehicle only to have my front tire blow half way through the Park. I, sans tool kit, was left walking through the park on a beautiful, sunny day towards another bicycle shop tire in hand when I heard my friend tc yell out my name. He was riding through the park and happened upon me and he was with tool kit, tube, and hand pump (he even had an air kiss).
TC’s timely appearance was my own private miracle for the day (for the week, for the year). We fixed up the front tire; pumped it full of air and rode together the rest of the way to my work.
Reflection on the sun’s heat falling on my face, sailing through the spring air on my bicycle, the appearance of a friend in a time of need, and the day of remembering a great fighter for justice all work like sweet healing balms on the glumness that I like to let crust over my skin and heart.
Mostly, I’ve been glum and disenchanted. I like to slink back into this rubbery shell that is not very protective and moan in my own head about the futility of all of this stuff we do called living.
And then I get gentle, life affirming bumps out of it. Yes,Dr. Kingdid fight hard for something better; he even was killed for his revolutionary ideas and yes those ideas got more and more revolutionary as he got older…and that is something to hold on to hope about, cause so many people seem to fizzle on their revolutionary thinking as they get older and more ingrained into this messy system of profit and production over everything meaningful and right and life-giving.
And I also get bumped out of the glum by little, mundane miracles. Yesterday, I had a hell of a ride to work. My back tire blew on Wednesday (I, sans tool kit, was left walking all over ann arbor for a tire and tube and wrench). Thursday morning after much fussing with my new tire, I still could not get it to stop rubbing my fenders so I took it up the road to the bike shop and a nice fellow raised my fenders and trued some of my spokes and made it spin without rubbing. Then I took off for work on my trusty, freshly tired vehicle only to have my front tire blow half way through the Park. I, sans tool kit, was left walking through the park on a beautiful, sunny day towards another bicycle shop tire in hand when I heard my friend tc yell out my name. He was riding through the park and happened upon me and he was with tool kit, tube, and hand pump (he even had an air kiss).
TC’s timely appearance was my own private miracle for the day (for the week, for the year). We fixed up the front tire; pumped it full of air and rode together the rest of the way to my work.
Reflection on the sun’s heat falling on my face, sailing through the spring air on my bicycle, the appearance of a friend in a time of need, and the day of remembering a great fighter for justice all work like sweet healing balms on the glumness that I like to let crust over my skin and heart.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
follow-up on flaps because i promised
Thank you to all who dared to share about your own or someone close to you or formerly close to you's labia. Reading through your comments has been really eye-opening and very humorous and thoughtful all at once.
Here's the deal. I happen to have a different-than-most-other-females flap. KK and I just pulled out the ruler and measured its length and width. It waggles down about one inch long and is about 1/4 inch wide. If anything, it cushions my ride more than obstructs it, but I do get numb down there when i ride for a while. I think most ladies (no matter the sizes of their flappy parts) get numb nether parts from having a seat rammed between their legs...feedback?
And why blog about this at all? Mostly, cause I want to. Also, I think it interesting and important and empowering. And then it boils down to my own genderqueer identity. My flap hangs like a spongy dagger between my legs. It helps instruct something in me that fuels the many parts of who i am and am becoming. It can bust out below the rest of my anatomy like something associated with male anatomy and just as easily tuck back up into the other beautiful pieces of my female anatomy. It blends and obscures. My flap is unique--just like me.
Here's the deal. I happen to have a different-than-most-other-females flap. KK and I just pulled out the ruler and measured its length and width. It waggles down about one inch long and is about 1/4 inch wide. If anything, it cushions my ride more than obstructs it, but I do get numb down there when i ride for a while. I think most ladies (no matter the sizes of their flappy parts) get numb nether parts from having a seat rammed between their legs...feedback?
And why blog about this at all? Mostly, cause I want to. Also, I think it interesting and important and empowering. And then it boils down to my own genderqueer identity. My flap hangs like a spongy dagger between my legs. It helps instruct something in me that fuels the many parts of who i am and am becoming. It can bust out below the rest of my anatomy like something associated with male anatomy and just as easily tuck back up into the other beautiful pieces of my female anatomy. It blends and obscures. My flap is unique--just like me.
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