.. Random meanderings: (is there any other kind?) I'd rather be alone than with people who don't get me. I'd rather read than go to bars. I wish I'd learned to dance. I am a master procrastinator; because I hate being unable to complete a task in one swoop, I never start. I'd rather be outside than in, almost any time. In my next life I'm living near the ocean--I'll want a view with a room. My family means everything to me; I'd do anything for them, but it needs to be my turn for a while--I'm burnt out in so many ways. My favorite times are in the deep night watching a small girl sleep. It is good to have someone trust you, and to deserve that trust. Forgiveness is the most precious gift. I hope I can be emotionally close to my precious granddaughters as they become beautiful and thoughtful young women. I hope they know how important they are in my world... .. .. .. .. .. ..

Mar 30, 2008How did this happen?Current mood:drainedAfter enduring the 17 weeks of February this year, March has vanished! What the hell happened? I was looking forward to a couple of very important birthdays, a trip to Disneyland, a couple of weekly (and weakly, oh brother, I need to practice) watercolor classes, Easter with a bubbly grandgirl, and renewal in our home by way of new colors: paint, carpet, window treatments, the works...I blinked and now here comes April! And it’s still snowing! And my flowers are getting trammeled! (Is that the word? or is it bammeled? flammeled? whammeled?)And I don’t care! And the house is painted! and the birthdays happened! and Easter eggs were here and there! and my shoulder aches and my thumb is tired! and suddenly, there goes March. It was nice while it lasted.I have to say a heartfelt and hearty thanks to Nessa and her fine friends and quite a few of my own who rallied behind me (No pushing!Stop shoving!) and got me through this year’s February meltdown. I really feel that true cleansing has occurred, and it is due almost entirely to the kindness of strangers and former strangers, now my dear friends and companions. In the course of one of my replies, I realized that the old saw, "It takes a village" became true in a whole new way for me. I realize that no one is really alone who does not choose to be. "Alone" is one of my preferred states, having taught grade school for a long long time...one begins to appreciate quiet after that. No one tugging your arm, patting your chest, hip, butt, thigh, whatever’s in reach, in a bid for help, no one spraying through missing teeth their retelling of last night’s "The Brady Bunch" onto your egg salad sandwich during a lunch time tutoring session. But I digress. This amazing online village has lifted my dank soul out of some pitiful mire and lighted the darkness for me. I really feel that I am well on the way to healing, precious life-sustaining healing. I’m tempted to apologize for wallowing in self-loathing mixed with self-congratulation in such a public manner, but that would be dishonest. I couldn’t have found a better source for healing than all of you who showed up to lend a hand and a heart. You know who you are. Thanks, and may you, too, find peace.

Apr 16, 2008What makes you nostalgic?Current mood:curiousA friend recently sent me an old video clip of "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson." George Gobel was featured, but sitting on the couch were Dean Martin & Bob Hope, clowning around and knocking each other and Johnny out with visual stunts behind George's back. Pure silliness from "the good old days." Besides Mr. Hope looking like my dad, bringing on a bit of heartache missing the old man, I got nostalgic for the hilarious old comics who didn't have to resort to profanity for laughs as so many do these days. Funny, clever guys and gals observing the human condition and making the rest of us laugh despite our foibles. What makes you feel nostalgic? I know every generation has its own set of icons. I would love to know yours!

Jo and Honey interview the DirtdivaThis is a voluntary interview, conducted by a really earnest dog and her person.1. Honey is asking this one – If God (dog spelled backwards) honored you by allowing you to be a dog, what breed/type would you ask to be and why? I'd be a Standard Poodle; big enough to kick ass, but with Naturally Curly Hair.2. If a tv show was made of your life would it be a comedy, drama, cartoon, soap opera, cop procedural, or animal program? I'd like it to be a cartoon strip like 'Frazz.' He's a highly evolved janitor at an elementary school, where he interacts with the brightest kids, who are generally on their way to detention since their teachers are NEVER ready for the answers they give!3. If you could live anywhere in the world with your whole family able to visit/live there, too, where would it be, and why? If we were all there, it wouldn't matter to me where we were, but knowing my girls' and my sweetie's preferences, it would have clean tidal water to swim in and to investigate; a grove of trees for me and a clear view of the night sky. OH! And a really really good library within walking distance. A bar and an ice cream parlor wouldn't hurt, either. 4. What should I plant to the right of my double front doors to replace the Bird of Paradise that was there? (full sun and wanting some sort of ornamental or evergreen or accent for the entry.) Hey, you ARE the Dirt Diva, right? *innocent look*:D I love it! Take a look at "Black Lace Elderberry" (Sambucus Nigra Eva). It's a hardy perennial, not too thirsty after it's established. It has lovely dark purple to black foliage, can be pruned to a 6-8 foot tree or cut off at the ground each fall to produce a bush. It blooms pink or white in the spring, very fragrant. (Here come the butterflies and bees) It produces berries for the birds later in the season. WARNING: the berries are toxic until cooked, so if Honey likes to eat the landscaping it's not a good choice, although you can clip off the blossoms after they are spent and no berries will be produced. For eye-popping ground cover below, plant lime green Japanese creeper (also called Creeping Speedwell), also a drought-resistant hardy perennial. 5. What is your favorite Ivan Doig novel and why? I like all of his novels, mostly set in early 1900s Montana. I like his sparse writing, his ear for dialogue, and his descriptions of the landscapes. He has written some very believable characters, some of whom show up in his other writing, too. One of the best in my estimation is "House of Blue Sky." Thanks, Jo for such pleasant questions!

Another Haiku attack approaches...A Haiku attack approaches; I can't help it, It's just like sneezing!******************************Her mum thinks in lines of seventeen syllables.Is there some treatment?*********************************Their dog gives me fits.She cowers and shits and then comes at me barking.***********************Her blog interviewwill dredge up safe memories.I have no secrets.***********************They say I'm funny.They have no idea what lieslie behind this grin.************************And on a totally different, but similar topic:Larry Smith of SMITH magazine and Rachel Fershleiser (NO IDEA who she is...) have teamed up to collect "Six Word Memoirs." There is a plethora of websites devoted to this, and you could go there, but I hope you'll share your own Six Word Story here instead. A couple of examples which I admire:Love me or leave me alone. For sale: Baby shoes, never worn. (attributed to Ernest Hemingway)Not quite what I had planned.Here's one from me to get it started: (not my own memoir, thankfully, but a true story just the same.)"Despicable executor absconds with orphans' inheritance."Who's up for sharing? Peace! and Inspiration! and a good thesaurus to keep us busy!

Jun 5, 2008Nature’s reality showCurrent mood:peacefulI have had the privilege of watching a pair of robins in my aspen the last month or so. At first there was much singing, flirting of tails and downright chasing through the patio. Suddenly there was a nest right there in the fork of the tree, high off the ground, but easy to spot once you knew it was there. Then mom robin is spending more time in and near the nest, but also leaving it for long periods of time. On May 11 she finally settled in and barely moved from her sheltered spot for 9 days. Papa robin spent his time at the top of the roof next door singing his cheerful 'cheeroop, cheereep, cheeroop, cheereep.' He also would take turns sitting on the nest, with a quiet flight into the tree, a pause while mama robin stepped off and went off to see to her own needs, and then he would nestle down, too. Such diligent parents, both of them.May 20, early in the morning, there is a gentle pipping from the dad, standing over the nest with a tiny tidbit in his beak. They've hatched! Over the next few days little yellow beaks, scrawny necks and wobbly heads stretch their way toward the larger and larger mouthfuls being brought. Room Service! The noisy screes pick up in pitch and volume. Both parents seem tireless in their shuttling back and forth to feed this demanding brood. There are three of them.May 27: an evil magpie enters the picture. I encounter it outside our yard, but it is racing me home, on a beeline for our patio and the aspen tree. I was mulling over in my mind what actions I could/would/should take, when suddenly from out of nowhere came 5 adult robins who chased off the magpie, striking it forcibly and calling out when it fled: "And STAY out!" It did. I haven't seen any magpies around since, and we generally have a few. The robin security flock dispersed. Zip! The babies continued to flourish, elbowing and outstretching each other in their bids for the next meal. Soon they appeared fully feathered and WAY too big for 3 in the nest, and Mom still sitting over them at night.Tuesday, June 3: again at first light, the first bold hatchling took steps off the nest and onto an adjoining branch. By 10:00 he had moved to another branch and was hunkered down, beak pointing to the sky, demanding and receiving chow. By noon he had changed his posture from hatchling to young confident bird of the world, ready to seek his fortune. He spread his stubby wings and floated down, down, down over the fence and into a neighboring vegetable patch, complete with irrigation water and a handy supply of worms. From an upstairs window we were able to watch him, being shepherded by his father. By early afternoon, baby number 2 was out and stretching and preening, and soon flew off. Gone, just like that. The last baby, Junior, stayed hunkered down and made demands about food and more food. The parents continued to feed all day. Late afternoon the (presumably) female, 2, returned to the tree and stayed till almost dark. Dad brought her a snack at one point. She left again sometime after 7 p.m. Junior was still in the nest, plaintively expressing his dismay that no one was keeping him warm and that dinner hadn't been served. The parents both fed him once more before dark, and left the tree. Dad stayed within earshot; we could hear his evening song.Early the next morning Junior was taking tentative stretch breaks out of the nest, crying piteously, and then scuttling back in, just like a late bloomer home from college. Not leaving, nossir. Dad took pity and brought late breakfast, then disappeared again. Junior spent that morning in an adjacent tree bitching and moaning and hunkered down. AND it was starting to rain, and NO ONE was coming to help! I went indoors at about 10 a.m., having done all the wet-shirt-and-hair gardening I could tolerate. The mowing dudes came through, and when they were gone, so was Junior. The parents are still in the area; Dad Robin is next door as I type this, cheroooping away in the afternoon halflight. It's rained periodically this afternoon, and his cheery song makes me want to just go sit in a wet chair and listen, rain or not. Pour the wine, Beulah, I'm going out.

RemoveJun 7, 2008Robin updateI was enjoying my quiet garden this afternoon when Junior robin fluttered onto his "bitching branch" and proceeded to whine and call for room service some more. I had just told someone this a.m. that the robins were good and gone, and here they were back. I laughed at Junior and stuck my nose back in what I was reading. After a time I realized what a racket that one bird was making. He was gone from the tree, but still nearby. I peeked over the fence and there he was, with siblings and Dad, all practicing catching juicy earthworms in the rainy grass. I'm convinced Junior should be renamed "Special Ed" (my apologies if this is offending anyone. If it is, blog off...)because Dad was making a big display of hauling a long worm out of the grass and pecking at it instead of just chugging it down as they usually do. Special Ed just watched, slack beaked. Finally dad hauled the worm to a dry hard patch of soil and laid it out like a six-foot subway sandwich. Ed watched, but watched me more, so I ducked back down. Eventually they all vanished again. I have no idea if anyone got to eat anything. I have GOT to get out more.