Author: Jana

  • just about as good as sex

    –hunting for a pen in the space behind the parking brake–that space where random car objects live–and finding a dark chocolate bar, 73% cocoa content, with a label that reads “Sexy”

    –wearing sandals. little white strappy sandals with tissue-thin soles. for the first time in 21 years. the air moving over my instep making my foot feel mustang-convertible cool.

    –taking my 5 min daily lay-in-bed-naked-after-my-shower moment and have Toby lay down next to me, purring up a storm. doze for a moment and wake up with toby napping at my ear and ellycat draped over my foot.

    –biking home at 11 pm after my AROOM group discusses A Midwife’s Tale. speeding down the hills that were so arduous on my way to group. walking in the door to greet John with cheeks flushed and heart pumping hard. wanting nothing more than to get back on the bike and go for another few miles.

  • I’m a voyeur

    So I’ve always been fascinated with the way people decorate their personal spaces–not the fake sort of decorating a la Martha Stewart in rooms that are museums rather than living spaces–but the real rooms where people hang out.

    When I was in China I often craned my neck around corners to get a glimpse inside the small spaces that held so much life. Here’s a website of 100×100–one hundred 100 square foot abodes in China captured on film. The results are amusing, at times sobering. Perhaps you will, like me, ponder these photos and marvel and the beauty and humility of ‘living small.’

    Thanks to wen for this link. A favorite image is below, simply because of the McD’s wrappers hung as crown molding on the far wall….

  • “want a taquito?”

    I was pulling the thigh-high weeds along the back fence of my garden. The professional gardeners who were working to clear an adjacent area of the community garden were taking a mid-morning break. I’ve worked side-by-side with these guys all week long–me puttering around in my garden, them using their industrial-grade equipment a few yards away. They’ve shared some advice with me, and we’ve worked to overcome some language barriers (they all speak Spanish).

    So today one of them gestured to catch my attention as they were snacking on corn tortillas, beans, and Squirt. He called out:

    “Hey, garden lady…want a taquito?”

    I vascillated. I wanted very much to fraternize with these guys–they’d been so nice to me over the past few days (even carrying out some of my loads of weeds to the dumpster for me). They were having a jolly breaktime together and I was envious of their cameraderie. But I was too nervous about whether I would be offered meat, and I wondered at the impropriety of my lunching with a bunch of sweaty, very manly, guys.

    I smiled as sincerely as I could and yelled back:

    “No…but thank you.”

    But as I continued to work in my garden and they continued to eat I was mentally kicking myself–afraid that I’d appeared elitist or selfish or cowardly. And I _did_ want to join them.

    But the table where they ate–though it was just 3 or 4 yards away from where I stood–was way too far out of my comfort zone.

  • "want a taquito?"

    I was pulling the thigh-high weeds along the back fence of my garden. The professional gardeners who were working to clear an adjacent area of the community garden were taking a mid-morning break. I’ve worked side-by-side with these guys all week long–me puttering around in my garden, them using their industrial-grade equipment a few yards away. They’ve shared some advice with me, and we’ve worked to overcome some language barriers (they all speak Spanish).

    So today one of them gestured to catch my attention as they were snacking on corn tortillas, beans, and Squirt. He called out:

    “Hey, garden lady…want a taquito?”

    I vascillated. I wanted very much to fraternize with these guys–they’d been so nice to me over the past few days (even carrying out some of my loads of weeds to the dumpster for me). They were having a jolly breaktime together and I was envious of their cameraderie. But I was too nervous about whether I would be offered meat, and I wondered at the impropriety of my lunching with a bunch of sweaty, very manly, guys.

    I smiled as sincerely as I could and yelled back:

    “No…but thank you.”

    But as I continued to work in my garden and they continued to eat I was mentally kicking myself–afraid that I’d appeared elitist or selfish or cowardly. And I _did_ want to join them.

    But the table where they ate–though it was just 3 or 4 yards away from where I stood–was way too far out of my comfort zone.


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  • an xray blanket on my chest…


    From Jen’s powerful post about her bout with depression.

    “all i knew is that i was crying….alot…for no apparent reason.
    i was exhausted but i couldnt sleep. i couldnt eat. i was losing interest in everything. i was moody and couldnt think clearly and tried to find any reason to explain away the feelings i was experiencing. loud noises sent me through the roof and crowds made me want to scream.i didnt want to kill myself, but i wasnt going to be disappointed if the moon happened to fall out of the sky and land directly on my head. i felt like i wanted to crawl out of my skin. but mostly, it was the heaviness ~ as if someone had dropped one of those x-ray blankets the size of a house upon my chest.”

  • sacrilegious..or not?

    So help me decide…is this sacrilegious or is it funny? Would you wear this t-shirt?

  • the life you had planned…

    A friend asked this question:
    “Are you living the life you had planned for yourself?”

    My reply:
    My first impulse is to say “No, I’m not”, simply because my life, for so many years, was lived in the moment. My brush with death (in the form of a cancer diagnosis) left me feeling that life was much too tenuous to plan for. I can distinctly remember getting to college and feeling overwhelmed with the victory of having lived so long–much longer than I had really anticipated. I sat on the plaza near the library looking over Aldich Park nearly overwhelmed with the joy of actually ‘being there.’ At the same time I realized that I was in process of making some important decisions–college major, future career path, etc–and I really didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t really planned on making it that far.

    BUT…

    As I reflect on the question more, I think that I _am_ living the life I planned for myself. Since I was a little girl I dreamed about being a mother and having lovely, intelligent chidren. I’ve always wanted to get a Ph.D. like my Dad–those three letters held such promise and prestige. I expected that my life would be filled with passion; I wanted to love someone desperately and have that love reciprocated in generous amounts. I wanted to eat good food, play hard, and wear myself out every day. I wanted to write books, to teach, to help others feel better about themselves.

    All of these things I have either accomplished or they are within a few years’ reach.

    I am a lucky girl. I say this with a feeling of restlessness, though. A huge part of me still expects that I will die soon. A huge part of me wants MORE. But then I take a deep breath and realize that life just can’t get much better than this. No matter what the future holds.
    :)

    What about you, dear reader. Are you “living the life you had planned for yourself?”

  • the stare of the Great Creator

    Below are the queries for Fifth Month from my local Quaker Meeting. I thought you might enjoy these questions. Those of you who are familiar with the Mo rhetoric about our ‘stewardship’ over the earth might particularly appreciate the way that considering our “right relationship with the earth” can change the way we think about our role in environmental issues.

    It would go a long way to caution and
    direct people in their use of the world,
    that they were better studied and knowing
    in the creation of it. For how could [they]
    find the confidence to abuse it, while they
    should see the Great Creator stare them
    in the face, in all and every part thereof?
    William Penn, 1693, in “Some Fruits
    of Solitude”

    God is revealed in all Creation. We humans belong to the whole interdependent community of life on earth. Rejoice in the beauty, complexity and mystery of creation, with gratitude to be part of its unfolding. Take time to learn how this community of life is organized and how it interacts. Live according to principles of right relationship and right action within this larger whole. Be aware of the influence humans have on the health and viability of life on earth. Call attention to what fosters or harms earth’s exquisite beauty, balances and interdependencies. Guided by Spirit, work to translate this understanding into ways of living that reflect our responsibility to one another, to the greater community of life, and to future generations.

    Advice and Queries for all individuals:
    In what ways do I express gratitude for the wondrous expressions of life on Earth?
    Do I consider the damage I might do to the Earth’s vulnerable systems in choices I make of what I do, what I buy, and how I spend my time?

    Advice and Queries for the meeting:
    In our witness for the global environment, are we careful to consider justice and the wellbeing of the world’s poorest people?
    Does our way of life threaten the viability of life on Earth?

    Advice and Queries especially for children:
    We are part of the community of life on earth and need to work to understand it.
    How do I thank God for this world?
    Did someone harm the earth so I could have what I want?
    Do we understand that people in other parts of the world live differently and may see things differently than we do?
    Does the way we live hurt or help the earth?

  • On camera with E



    Originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    Just returned from the opening ceremony where E’s art is featured front & center. Her official duties for the day included a press conference and a ribbon cutting ceremony. Such a popular girl!

    E handled all the attention with aplomb. She’s now a pro at public relations. :)

    Click on the picture above to see more pics from the day’s events….

  • thickly spread

    A few days ago Rich wrote…
    Jana,
    I dare you to try my favorite: Orowheat wheatberry toast, ripe avocado thickly spread over it, and drizzled with clover honey. To die for!

    Rich,
    Thank you for the dare. You were oh-so-right! The sweetness of the honey was perfectly paired with the creaminess of the avo and the crunchiness of the toast (not orowheat, but a Trader Joe’s imitation). I’m thinking that this treat could only be better if the bread were homebaked, and it was a heel slice where the crust was perfectly crisp and the center of the bread still steaming. And the honey was gathered by Trappist monks on Huntsville, Utah. And I was sitting under a tree on a warm afternoon and after I finished my sublime repast I had time to relax (perhaps take a short nap) to contemplate how much I enjoyed what I had just eaten.

    But in the meantime, I’m settling for near-perfection and I’m headed to the Farmer’s Market for a few more avocadoes tomorrow. :)

  • no to nukes


    This is encouraging news. The LDS Church has issued a press release urging alternatives to a nuclear waste dump in Skull Valley. Mormons have long been the recipients of the nation’s toxins. It’s nice that the church doesn’t want that to happen again….

    Picture Caption: A plume rises at the Nevada Test Site in an Operation Teapot explosion of April 15, 1955. Nevada testing during the 1950s left a downwind legacy of death.