Planted some sweet pea seedlings today in pots on my back porch. Also repotted a poppy plant.
From the looks of the little buds, I should have flowers in a week or so if the sunshine continues.
Can you believe that in SoCal Spring isn’t just around the corner anymore–she’s relaxing on the couch, propping up her feet on the coffeetable, and making herself at home. :)
Note: the sweet peas in this pic are from a favorite garden near mine–the one with the labyrinth….
Just got the good news that I was awarded one of the larger fellowships that I applied for, one that will fully fund my next year of research and writing.
Right now I am feeling just as bright as this flower–all orangey and happy and warm.
:)
See me, sitting in the back in black? This is what I do. Sitting in an archive, searching through a scrapbook of newspaper articles about the Santa Monica Veterans’ Home.
The time passes so quickly when I’m in the archive, lunchtime slipped by and before I knew it, it was time to head home.
My archival ‘partner in crime,’ K, snapped this little pic–knowing how much fun it is to show others what we do in the ‘inner-sanctums’ of the research facilities. Today, for example, before entering this facility I had to go through a search that’s every bit as thorough as if I were boarding a jetliner.
:)
If tonight after yoga, as you were supine on the floor in corpse pose, you remembered something long forgotten. An embrace. A special hug in your dorm room way back in 1990. An ordinary hug, perhaps, but with an extraordinary significance. As you wrapped your arms around your new beau, you closed your eyes and immersed yourself completely. Time stopped, as every cell in your body memorized the orientation of its organelles right then. For that very hug. And you remembered that for the two years after that embrace, when you were missing your beloved so desperately and almost gave up thinking that two years was just TOO LONG, the universe reversed and you were there once again, holding him in your arms.
And if this is you, you will know that when you said good-bye to CatGirl this morning–as she headed off for a week of mountain adventure–you memorized your parting hug in that very same way. Burying your nose in the crown of her french-braided hair. Knowing that that one hug would need to hold you for several days. And resisting the urge to swoop her up on your lap and sing her a lullabye and tell her that she is just too young, too young to go. And at the same time, bursting with pride at this strong creature with the grace of an egyptian goddess-cat, the strength of a lioness, the mental acuity of her(now lonely and forlorn) TobyJoy, and an empathy large enough to embrace the entire animal kingdom.
From John, a Book Meme:
The rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating!
2. Find page 123
3. Find the first 5 sentences
4. Post the next 3 sentences
5. Tag 5 people
My nearest book at hand is James Goodman’s Blackout
“I’m almost 70 years old and I have no place to go,” cried a woman standing across the street from the charred remains of her $57 rental.
“I wish I had died.”“I’m no bleeding heart,” said the head of the Legal Aid Society’s criminal-defense staff.
The teaser from the dustjacket offers a more provocative glimpse into the book’s topic:
The summer of 1977 seethed.
Unemployment was up.
Crime was through the roof.
Son of Sam was on the loose.
Things couldn’t get much worse.
Then the lights went out.
When they came back on, nothing was quite the same.
I now tag:
All of my female readers, including…Brooke, Barbara, Bonny, Alison, Allison, Alise, Alisa, Allyson, Christi, Kirsten, Deborah, Darlene, Amy, Alberta, Bekah, Lorell, Lucy, Sara, Sarah, Susan, Shana, Sandra, Rebecca, Caroline, JaneAnne, Janice, Emily, Maria, Margy, Jessica, Penny, Angela, Emma, Nicole, Tanya, Elise, Elisabeth, Lisa, Reg, C.L., Wen, Holly, Elaine, Cheryl, Kara, Kate, Kay, and so forth (and dang it, if I forgot to name you in my list, let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP)! And if you’ve already played along once, feel free to join in the fun again. :)
You can answer in the comments or on your own blog… :)
“The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed- It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.”
~Shakespeare
I just decided to write my own meme. And you are all hereby invited to join in the memey-ness, either in the comments or on your own blog…
1) If you were a pair of socks, what would you look like?
Striped and woolly. Handknit.
2) How many bottle openers do you own? Are any of them kifed from the hotel where you stayed on your honeymoon?
Two, one hot pink from The Madonna Inn.
3) Utilikilts: Hot or Not?
Hot when John is wearing one.
4) When you are at the grocery store late at night, what snack food calls your name?
Dark chocolate truffles, SunChips
5) How many scars do you have? What’s your biggest? Your favorite?
Too many to count. 7 prominent ones. Biggest: seam on right leg. Favorite: down the inside of my left arm, from a fencenail (blech).
6) What’s the name of your computer? Your wireless network? Your car?
Junebug, AdamondiAhman, The Car
7) Who was your first kiss? Your most recent kiss? If you have cats, how many times/day do you kiss them?
I can’t remember if his name was Ryan or Steve. He kissed me without any warning and I was so shocked that I couldn’t enjoy it one bit. The first time I volitionally kissed someone it was RobertM (who I googled awhile back and he’s now an attorney in Colorado). Last kiss: a sweet little armlick from EllyCat. Probably more than 20 times/day.
8) What do you wear on days when no one you know will see you?
Red plaid boxer shorts and a ratty tee. Glasses. Hair in ponytail.
9) Phobias?
RATS, falling, heights, that my fly is down while I’m teaching class, that I have cancer again.
10) When you were in school, did you ever negotiate with your teacher for higher grades? If so, did you ever beg or cry?
Nope (though I did cry in front of a teacher-friend once, it was because I was telling her about a recent death in my family and wasn’t because I was begging for a regrade of my exam). I should note, though, that my face spouts tears at the oddest moments–my eyes often water (or my nose runs) when I am intensely focused, and some people have interpreted these as tears of worry or fear…
11) If you had 60 research papers to read, what would you do to avoid reading them?
Write blogmemes (duh!)
12) Your favorite train ride ever?
Summer of 2000, Isle of Man trolley
I have the blahs this afternoon. A somber feeling that might stem from yet another day of rain, or because my vacuum is on the fritz (I love vacuuming), or from my pile of papers to grade that is now about to topple at over 8″ high. Even my afternoon cuppa seemed a little dreary…
Can y’all send something warm and cheery and lovely my way? Or something to make me giggle?
Thank you, my friends.
Last week I came home from class and it was so warm and lovely outside that I kicked off my shoes and sat in the grass and sunshine to grade papers.
Just had to share that moment of springtime exuberance with you!
A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King [and Queen].
~ Emily Dickinson
Last night my yoga teacher warned us that the “work” we’d done on opening our hips might bring back some surprising memories from the past. Because, she said, we store many of our memories in our hips and pelvis.
The cynic in me thinks that such statements are a kind of uninformed hooey. Memories in my hips…yah, right. I mean, I wasn’t born yesterday. I learned about the brain way back in gradeschool.
But then there’s this other part of me that knows how our bodies are imprinted with our experiences. How each fissure and wrinkle and roundness of my body tells the story of me. One of my heartfelt losses when my leg was amputated, was the loss of its tales. I don’t have a photograph as a memorial, and can just barely remember the thick scar running down my knee.
And I also think of my neurobiology class from Gary Lynch, a world-renowned memory researcher. Where I learned that our memories are all the effect of biochemical processes. While current research points to this happening in our brain (and not our hips), I don’t buy that there’s a total disconnect between the two.
As my body moves around it stimulates emotions, desires, passions, resistances, and sensations. So why not memories, too?
A few years ago, John wrote this sweet poem for me. I thought I would share it with you, as it’s been on my mind a lot this past week…
A little late for work,
breath on breath, flesh on flesh,
limbs tightly woven
we glory
in our oneness.
In our later years
perhaps mingled, our breath escapes
and unable to pry us apart
they bury
our braided bones.
And in that latter-day,
when out neighbors stretch and blink
at the brilliant yellow sky,
we dally
and enter into paradise.
John prepared an amazing french-style breakfast for us this morning (with the help of the kids who fetched herbs and helped with prep).
I am a lucky girl, indeed.
I love holiday weekends. :)
