Me Me Me

It's a lazy Sunday tapping me on the shoulder to tackle too-much paperwork. This is what I've been doing for the last three hours but it's time for a break. And what better way to relax and change the tone of things than to enter the treasures of the blogs. :)

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Barbara has very kindly given me a blog award that requests that I share seven things about myself. I haven't done a meme in a long time and the distraction from my taxes and bills and counselor re-certification is welcomed. So here goes:

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1. I read tarot cards. My Madame kj career began when I was 14 years old and I asked for a tarot deck for Christmas. My Mother, who knew nothing about anything occult and cared even less, bought me a James Bond Tarot deck (hee hee). I used it for a long time before I graduated to a standard deck, and I used that for a long time until I found myself in a Big Sur California gift shop and there was the Tarot Deck of my dreams. It is an herb deck and I use it to this day.

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It has taken me years to build up my confidence and my acceptance that the cards really do provide an ability to look ahead and to advise wisely. I can finally say I feel skilled. And I believe. I have enough experience behind me to say without reservation that I believe.

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2. When I was 13 I and four of my friends were arrested for breaking and entering into a closed-up mansion. We meant no harm, just curiosity, but it started me on a path of sometimes bending the rules with a smile. In high school I was occasionally sent to the Headmaster's office for talking too much or a little prank here or there, but I was always good natured about it and I accepted my punishments with a grin.
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Now a bonafide adult, I still have trouble behaving. I think someday I will be arrested for chasing down a police car and trying to make a citizen's arrest because the officer was ignoring the speed limit for no good reason. I get jumpy about hypocrisy and jumpier still about injustice. I don't see that changing any time soon.

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.3. Emily Rabbit first appeared to my partner JB and has been blabbing nonstop ever since. I rolled over laughing when she left this thank you note made from jellybeans. And honestly, I admire Emily's spunk. I wish I were as confident and clear about things and people as she is. Sometimes I am, but my feelings can be hurt easily. Most of the world knows my heart just about fell apart last year, what I can now say and view as a betrayal from someone I loved and trusted. Emily's solution has been to cry, whine, yell, throw frozen vegetables, and be done with it. She cannot understand my laments, and I actually welcome her point of view!
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4. One of the most precious moments of my life was seeing my Jessica give birth to Mr. Ryan. JB and I were at the hospital with her and my good-guy son-in-law, Mike. Now, three years and one Baby Drew later, I shout from the rooftops that this daughter of mine is an incredible mother. INCREDIBLE! It is an amazing thing to watch, to be part of. When Mr. Ryan does something he shouldn't, she stares at him and says, "Ryan, you are being a bad listener." It makes me laugh. It really does. And it works. :)

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5. For the past four years, I live in a farming community that is also culturally diverse because there are seven colleges and universities nearby. I don't like snow, cold, winters and because this is a valley there is all of that from November through March. I do my share of complaining.

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But come Spring, there is not a better place to be for a gardener-type like me. And come Fall, the colors pop in classic New England style. This field is less than a mile from my house, just behind the hotdog stand and golf range.

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6. JB and I have been together almost 25 years. I have her permission only sparingly to post her picture on my blog. :) She is a wonderful woman and a talented artist (collage and fiber) and she never fails to support what's important to me.

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I don't write much about being a lesbian but I can tell you that the advances in gay rights in the last decade have been monumental for me. There was a time when Jess was young when even as I was well liked and well respected, I would feel awkward, different, sometimes 'less than'. It was not until Jess was in college that we all relaxed and affirmed how lucky we are to be a family, to be ourselves.

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When Jess and Mike became engaged, they wrote JB and I a letter. In it Mike said that maybe we don't know it but he and Jess planned to model their relationship on ours. That letter is safely and forever tucked away in my sock drawer.

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7. And last: I was in New Orleans three weeks after Hurricane Katrina, working in a mental health center for the American Red Cross. I will never forget it. The devastation was impossible to describe, then and now. But I saw courage and humanity everywhere: families who lost everything, volunteers like me who worked 16-20 hours a day. The experience changed my life.

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Love

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kj

Renee

I know there was some mention that Renee is awake, that we are wondering and all so concerned about her. I know that as of yesterday Renee is still in the hospital, awake for 10-15 minutes at a time. She is not alone and everything that can be done is being done to help her be comfortable.

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I don't know alot more than anyone else, but I can tell you that the love, caring, and comments are helping Renee's family greatly in this difficult time. I have printed out some of our posts about Renee and sent them to Angelique in the hope that she may be able to read or show them to Renee.

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My darling friend,

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I and everyone who loves you prays most of all for no more pain.

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I had a silly thought last night. We are mourning your loss at the same time we believe in the power of miracle, the strength of prayer and love. I thought what if you recovered and laughed your head off at all of us who have already said goodbye to you, We would hear your har har har all over the word, Renee!
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I have gotten to know some of your friends in the past few weeks. I didn't know that you and Linda Sue were room mates at the lake, or that you and Allegra made a LALF pact. All these special private and one-on-one special and often magical relationships that you have made with so many people who cherish you, who hold your heart now and forever.

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The last time I heard from you, you had just gotten the flowers from Laurel and me and you told us both to expect a call from you later in the day, once the bats settled down.

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I'm glad that you had those flowers beside your bed when you left for the hospital.

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I'm glad that I talked to you on Christmas eve, that the treasure chest meant so much, that I know about Heidi, that we talked about hospice and dying and leaving your family. I'm glad that I know the way you say your name, the time you've taken to tend to me--me: even when it made more sense to tend to you.

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I'm glad that we are both grandmothers, that our grandbabies are the same age, that we love them so much we can't even put words to that much love.
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I'm glad that you told me how much your Raven Sister Laurel means to you, how much you love Bella Sinclair, how you and Allegra know each other by feel alone, how much Deborah's prayers have meant to you.

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I'm glad that the blogs have been your 'three pack a day' habit, that they have gotten you through the bats and days in ways you will never forget.

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I'm glad that you and Pattee and Sonia and I joined the Gypsy Caravan, you wild tarot card reader, that you have had the joy of Lo's ravens, Lori's photographs and Angela's angels, Bella's illustrations, Julie Ann's portraits, Baino's kindness, Ribbon and Sweet Mango's wisdom, Deb's prayers. I'm glad that artists and writers and mystics and muses have flocked to you, our Senior Healing Angel.

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I'm glad that you taught me how to love without holding back and without apologizing for it.

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I'm glad that you deleted some comments on your blog because you knew they could hurt or offend.

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I'm glad that I won't be so afraid of dying because of you, that I know you will see my Father sitting beside your Father, and now your Mother, and Sheldon.

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I'm glad that I will someday see you, greeting me with your smile and your har har and your special prayer that begins with F--.

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I'm glad you are so important to me. I will never forget you. Never.

Someday I may meet your children, your grandchildren. I wouldn't be surprised.

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My dearest darling Renee. It is not the same without you. Are you free of pain? Are you comfortable? Can you feel the love?

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If we have to lose you here, I know you will watch for all of us in your new assignment.

You are a Senior Angel, Renee Khan. You've done your job totally perfectly.

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You've left an army behind.

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Love always,

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kj ♥

Animal Wednesday: Emily in the Snow

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Well! Hello! It’s me, Emily! What am I going to write about today? By now you should know how to cry deep deep from your stomach, throw a temper tantrum in public places and on the kitchen floor, what to do if you get arrested (cry and whine), when and why to throw frozen peas or in very serious circumstances Brussels sprouts, how to enjoy life through jellybeans, and how to tell someone who is not nice to get lost. I think I have demonstrated all of these things very well and I hope you are following them. If you aren't it's not my fault if you don't listen but you should because you will be happier and you will never feel guilty about anything and you have more fun.

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As you know kj pays me $ 10 to write this column every week and she complains about it every time but I just ignore her and take the money because I mostly spend it on jellybeans and now I am also into chocolate snowballs, do you know what those are? They are pink big round circles with coconut on them and chocolate inside and inside of the chocolate there is a creamy filling that you can lick instead of eat. I recommend them especially on days when you need something that will make you feel nine years old.
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I thought today I would show you a picture of me in the snow. If you can’t see me it’s not my fault because I am white and the snow is white too.

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I am waving to you with a big smile on my face because I just sold five pounds of multi colored rabbit pellets to two twelve year old girls who are going to give them out at their birthday party. I am starting to wonder just a little bit if the multi colored rabbit pellets will upset their stomachs because you know I don’t want to get arrested again even though it was not my fault last time but do you think rabbit pellets in general will make someone sick? I sprinkled sugar on them before I colored them so they would not only look good but taste good and the girls gave me $ 25 because I told them it was $ 5 a pound which, really, I think is a bargain.

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Do you think I will get in trouble? And even if I do, don’t you think it’s worth $ 25 except if they get sick I will feel bad but I think they would get sick only if they ate too many at a time, which they might but would that be my fault?

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And besides I could hide in the snow and they wouldn't see me, right?

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.Sincerely,

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Emily V.V. Rabbit

Still More Novel in a Paragraph

A word of explanation: I am writing a novel where short snippets will hopefully tell a story all by themselves but will also combine with other short snippets to reveal a deeper story. Here in my blog, perhaps once a week, I will share a few snippets, but in no sequence or logical order. That part comes much later.
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Missing
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Casey was insatiable.

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”I know you don’t have a lot of time, but I could come say, on a Friday night and leave Sunday morning. A few times a year. And maybe every so often we could meet halfway somewhere.”
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“No!” Catherine laughed. “Once a year!”
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Casey didn’t know she meant it.
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.“Can we compromise?” she asked.
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“No. Come to think of it, maybe just every other year,” Catherine said.
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As the months progressed, there would be a predictable point when Casey cried. She could not understand and she failed to accept that Catherine meant business. She cried more with Catherine than with any other person she had ever known.
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“But Catherine, don't you miss me? If it were up to me I’d want to see you once a month. Why can’t we compromise?”
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“No! I don’t even see my sisters once a year and I love them as much as I love you. You’re too demanding,” she said.
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Somewhere in the halls of ancient history and in the secret land where reality recreates itself, when Catherine told the story fresh, this is how a few times a year became once a month became selfish and finally became never.

Here and There

Throughout the flight Casey turned Catherine’s words over and around, “I miss you already. You are welcome to come here any time,” she’d said.

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The how often and where and why and when they would see one another had finally closed. Casey would come a weekend here, another there, and perhaps once a year they would meet just the two of them. There was no way on that plane heading home that day that Casey could have known this would be the last time they would see one another, that that six months later, these two women knee deep in love for one another would be painted over by a sunlight yellow that according to Catherine would let their toxic ooze escape, once and for all.

Saying 'I :Love You'

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How often do you say 'I love you'? and to whom?
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Sometime during the first year I began blogging, there was a special woman I came to know and care about and it was easy to say 'I love you' to her, on the blogs, on the phone, in person, easy because it was true. And of course I tell my daughter and son-in-law and Mr. Ryan and Baby Drew all the time that I love them. JB and I tell each other every morning, often several times a day. I tell my Mother and I tell my close friends; well, most of my close friends. Sometimes it's harder to say than I would like.

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Then came 'I love you' blog-style. I think Renee started it. Renee hands out expressions of love like Emily's jellybeans, and she means it. How easy it became, how quickly, to say 'I love you' back to her, and then to certain other blog friends. How easy it is to say it now: I love you Laurel. I love you Lori. I love. You. And you.
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How easy, how easy to say it and mean it, because it's true.
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And yet.

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Why is it so much harder to tell someone I love face-to-face? Or on the phone? Do you so easily tell your relatives, your friends, your co-workers, your neighbors that you love them? Do you know who you love, who qualifies to hear you say it ? Why are they and it so different from the people you have come to love from the blogs? Are they different?

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Why is it so damn easy to readily express affection, in some cases abiding love even, for the amazing friends I so cherish through blogging and why is it so damn hard to say 'I love you' to the special people in my in-person life?

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Because here's a part of what I've been thinking: I must be careful not to let all the love I feel here replace or substitute for the people who live and work beside me, in my day-to-day life. My face-to-face relationships are every bit as important, every bit as real, every bit as worthy of my 'I love you's. But I don't dispense them nearly as often. How come?

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I-love-you is not something I say mindlessly. I know some people do, and sometimes the gushing on the blogs can be a bit too much for me. Myself, I just try to be sure I mean it when I say it, and I don't say it if I don't mean it.

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So I'm not wondering why I say 'I love you' so much. I'm wondering why, outside of the blogs, when I am lucky enough to be with people I care about deeply, I say it so little.

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Do you ever wonder about this? If you know, and by now you probably do know, that you don't have to hold back your affection here, why hold it back anywhere?
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I was just wondering....

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Love

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kj

Surprises*

On Wednesday nights there is an auction and the offerings range from furniture to paintings to lamps to jewelry to boxes stuffed with a lot of junk and maybe some interesting additions.

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Bidding for the boxes rarely exceeds $ 5, and some times only $ 1 or $2. The last box I got had old watches, Christmas ornaments, plastic vases, and a roll of 35 cent stamps. There are a hundred stamps in a roll, so my $ 2 investment yielded me $ 35 in stamps.

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I love bargains and surprises like that. I love knowing I've gotten something of value (if only to me) at a good price.

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Which brings me to this true story of a couple who wanted to use their retirement money wisely, so it would last, and decided to buy a home and a few acres in Portugal.

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The modest farmhouse had been vacant for 15 years; the owner and wife both had died, and there were no heirs. The house was sold to pay taxes.

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There had been several lookers but the place had a large barn with steel doors that had been welded shut. Nobody wanted to go to the extra expense to see what was in the barn, and it wasn't complimentary to the property anyway.......so, nobody made an offer on
the place.
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The couple bought it at just over half of the property's worth, moved in, and set out to tear into the barn. They bought a generator, and a couple of grinders and cut through the welds of the giant steel doors, their curiosity increasing. What was in the barn?

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At a value of $35 million dollars, this collection of antique cars took care of any retirement worries. The couple had rights to it, free and clear. Can you even imagine?

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The moral of the story of my stamps and these cars is to not hold back, not be restrained, not be surprised so the universe can decide to hand you a surprise.

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Surprises are everywhere once you let yourself zone into them. Renee Khan is a surprise. Who knew she would spin her loving magic into the hearts of so many of us, affirm our capacity for love and friendship and playfulness and community in a way most of us never imagined?

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So today, in the midst of a tough week, praying for Renee, preparing to lose her, please don't forget that magic is all around you. Sometimes you have to hold your hand up high and make a bid, but sometimes that turns out to be a very tiny price.

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Love to all,

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kj

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*so now I have to tell you the story of this couple is a hoax! i looked it up on the internet and it's true these cars are in a barn, in Portugal, dusty and ignored, but they belong to an auto dealer. There is no happy couple. Does this qualify as a SURPRISE?!!!

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darn it kj, check your facts before you post about them!! ♥

Winnipeg

The winter air in Winnipeg freezes stoplights.

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These days she is either blogging or throwing up, the bats in her stomach fluttering with a fury that will bring her down, soon enough that the yesterdays will freeze themselves in remarkable place and one late afternoon her family and friends will face her absence, a loss of something so huge the space she leaves cannot freeze. It will never freeze. She is dying now, writing in her own wry and wily way for her family and to her great surprise, now for a few hundred others who follow her light irreverence, cry real tears for her willingness to deal, doggedly try to package love across the keyboards, each of them in so deep that their stomachs ache for her and they cannot eat, cannot stop thinking about the bats, unlike her, who keeps writing, keeps the light on, keeps the chill at bay. “Fucking bats” she might say, often accompanied by a little piece of art or inspiration “Those bats won’t leave me alone today.”

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It might be today in Winnipeg when the air lightens and the stoplights swing again and the bats stop their torment. This might be the day when she will die, 53 years of living large, tucked under her Senior Angel wings, ready for her next assignment.

Animal Wednesday: Emily on Heaven

Hello everyone, it's me Emily!

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I'll bet you thought I wasn't going to write anything today because kj snuck in that story about Catherine who-ever-she-is. She did agree to pay me $ 5 if i waited but really that was not enough, don't you think? So I practiced throwing my frozen peas at the back of the garage tonight and let her think I was having a temper tantrum. Can you believe she just ignored me?

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kj has not really been herself this week. Her friend is very sick and kj is worried and sad. She says it's lonely without hearing from her. I asked her to tell me what to expect when someone is very sick and all she said was she is sure that the person and loving them continues to live inside you no matter what. She also said that it is normal to feel very sad and alone if you lose someone that you love.

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So anyway, I was a little concerned about kj so I asked my teacher Mr. O'Hare about all this and all he said was "Heaven's not a crying place." I told kj that.

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See, somebunny even wrote a book about it.

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kj said I should tell you this because it might be important for you to know.
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P.S. I broke a window throwing my frozen peas. SSSSShhhhh.
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Yours Truly,
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Emily Rabbit

Another Novel in a Paragraph

A word of explanation: I am writing a novel where short snippets will hopefully tell a story all by themselves but will also combine with other short snippets to reveal a deeper story. Here in my blog, perhaps once a week, I will share a few snippets, but in no sequence or logical order. That part comes much later
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Warming

Catherine was opposed to gun control, immigration amnesty, government intervention, gay marriage, social services and global warming. She could argue for hours about any thing dear to the Rush Limbaugh crowd. To her it was not arguing: it was intellectual fencing.

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“You should read the Drudge Report”, she told Casey. “The top scientists who do not agree about global warming are denied funding. It’s all bullshit. Do you know how old the earth is, Casey?”
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Casey didn’t.

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Catherine was ready. “It is four billion years old,” she sputtered. “Why are we overreacting now?”

What I Know About Renee

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Everything looks promising in my house. Winter tulips tell me that in 4-6 weeks, Spring will come and I will see ground again. I still like my work, I still write, I have many more good days than bad.

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But these are hard times, hard times. My friend Renee is sick, friend to so many of us--we of this blogging community that has taken residence in our lives--hospitalized, absent from the sacred spot in daily life she has occupied for a good year now. It isn't just her unbelievable story and her amazing family that has drawn so many to her: it is so much more.

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Renee notices. Her comments tell you instantly and clearly that she has listened, remembered, knows what's going on with you. She's real. No phony baloney small talk, no wasted words. More than once she has reached out to me, understood and protected my shaken heart, insisted we talk about that and not her. Doggedly insisted: "Nothing about me, kj, I'm fine, of course your heart just needs time to heal, kj, it's not because of anything you've done."

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How is it that I would come to love someone I have not yet met, face to face, love so surely that her illness and my helplessness about it feels as though she must be member of my family--my favorite cousin perhaps, or closer, more accurate still, perhaps my sister.

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I know I am not alone in wondering how this kind of love actually works, how this kind of grief actually figures out how to express itself. I have experienced this long distance closeness once before, and I can telly you that I know it is possible to love in this way; to care, to share, to commit. I know it is all totally genuine and totally real. I know the bonds will live on for years.

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The thought of Renee in pain is so difficult. From what I understand her pain is being managed, controlled, so she can rest comfortably. She is in the hospital, being cared for, finally able to rest. Hopefully she will soon begin treatment which hopefully will banish her bats.

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The thought of losing Renee is almost unbearable. Already I miss her daily visits and comments to me. I miss her amazing choices of art, her BLD's (breakfast/lunch/dinner), her angels and gods and goddesses, her 1950's women's rules of etiquette, her fuck fuck fucking bats and her use of the word fuck like it is her own private prayer. I miss her incredible writing skills. She is such a fine writer she makes it look so easy, effortless. I miss the comments from her so many friends.

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I miss knowing she is nearby, reachable, comical, courageous, tender, articulate, wise. She is teaching our community how to live, how to participate in moments and live them fully, how to love, how to prepare, how to let go, how to die.

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"Ask me anything kj," she says to me. And she means it. Anything I ask her she answers. I ask her what she would do if she were me, and she doesn't hesitate. She speaks like she writes. Renee notices.

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So for the first time in my life, and for all of us lucky enough to have Renee as a great friend, how exactly do we deal with our worry, sadness, fear, nd love--so much love--for our friend in Winnipeg? How do we wait, how do we reach out, comfort ourselves, comfort others, praying first for Renee's comfort and then that she will rally, be back with us soon, that we will open up our email or blog and will see her classic 'xoxox Renee'? I will jump out of my chair! I will be over the top happy.

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I think there is a thin line between living and dying, this life and that, here and there. This is one of the things I am learning from Renee. I am less afraid because of it. But I am not ready to lose her. I want her back, soon, comfortably, better. I wants the bats banished. I love her. I am combining my prayers and energy and spirit with so many of Renee's other dearest friends to help her heal, to give strength to her family, to let her know she could not ever ever be alone.

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This is what I know: I fell in love with Renee and I am in love with Renee and I will always love Renee. She has a place in my heart and she has come to stay. Whatever her assignment, she is a Senior Angel, as special as the angel wings she opens for everyone who loves her. I am blessed to love her, and I am so so thankful for that.

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Love

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kj

Come Play With Me...

My Australian friends may recognize this poster,

but aiside from the enthusiatic invitation,

it has little to do with today's post .
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The word today is INSPIRE.

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How many words can you think

of that rhyme with INSPIRE?

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desire, attire, fire, plyer,

conspire, tire, liar, buyer

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I could go on,

but perhaps you will have more fun

if you think

about this yourself.

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There are ALOT of words

that rhyme with INSPIRE.

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And if you wanted to be really smart

and include three syllable words

you could go to http://www.rhyme.com/

and there they would be.

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And why am I telling you this?

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Well, I could make up a POEM

with all these rhyming words.

I could say

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My heart's desire

did not inspire

the friar

who changed my tire

when my car caught fire.

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And....well.....YOU could make up a poem too.

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Because there are SO MANY words

that rhyme with INSPIRE

that maybe if you started

you would be a poet just like that.

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I am tired

of being wired

so instead

I'm taking my head

to bed.

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.How about penning a poem of your own,

here or own your own blog?

We've done this before

and it's pretty fun.

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The only 'guideline'

is to make it rhyme

some how some way.

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Beyond that,

whether you're an artist or a writer

or a photographer or wanderer

or a seeker or a psychologist (hee hee CS),

let your rhyming child self have some fun.

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Be INSPIRED.

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Wanna play?

Happy Valentine's Day

How did I end up with a whole new community of friends?

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How is it that they matter as much as they do?

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How have some stepped into my daily life?

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How am I so fortunate to have painters and poets and illustrators and writers and photographers and masters and pioneers all around me?

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♥Happy Valentine's Day,

to old friends and new♥

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We can be eachother's roots:

see how connected we are?

And we can be eachother's wings:

see how we help eachother fly?

Love

kj

and Robin, definitely and Robin...

More Novel in a Paragraph: Yes

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Valentines come in many shapes sizes and forms....

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Yes

Davoni doesn’t answer. No matter what the therapist asks him, he grins, shrugs, says “I don’t know.” This was his response when she asked him if he missed his mother, when she asked how he felt when his foster mother told him in front of his whole first grade class that she didn’t want him anymore, what he thought when his head got shaved and the next day he started a new school in a new home. The therapist told Davoni that she is going to pay herself a nickel every time he says “I don’t know." “Oh another nickel—that’s fifteen cents so far today!” she says and they laugh together, the way they sometimes laugh when they are walking to the lunch room and while they are holding hands, they tickle each other’s palms.

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He has only cried in front of the therapist once, mournful tears on the last day of kindergarten after his teachers kept showing him his special music award, telling him how great it was. But later, in the library, when the therapist asked him about it, he began to cry and couldn’t stop. Finally he sobbed, “It should have been in spelling, not music. I didn’t try in music.”

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Last week he cried like that again, this time because he scratched someone in his after school program and was suspended for five days. The teacher aide told the therapist he cried so hard he couldn’t talk. She said he seems like a good child, smart, said that she understands that he is in a new school, new teachers, new foster family, new faces, new rooms, new rules.

“Do you fall asleep okay in your new room?” the therapist asks him.

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“I dunno.”

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“Oh! Another nickel!” He laughs. They both laugh.

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“Devoni,” the therapist puts a hand on his head, rubs his stub of hair. “About scratching that kid at after school, I can teach you how to use your words instead of your hands. I think that will help alot, what do you think?”

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He looks up.“ I dunno.” She looks at him. He smiles. “Yes,” he says.

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Find someone to be your valentine. They don't need to even know. ♥

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Love

kj

Hearts

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take a walk with me...

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Thank Silke and Lori for this idea: how many hearts do you have? Take a look around. I think you will be surprised.
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My camera and I took a walk tonight in search of hearts. All this above and below is what we came up with walking from room to room at home.

.How about this Valentine's Day we give ourselves ♥'s? You probably won't have to look very far, not much effort, just seeing.
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And how about we share our ♥'s? Go on a treasure hunt for hearts and post them on your blog--kind of a Valentine's Day present to eachother? ♥
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Love

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kj

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* If you can't tell already, my good good friends Studio Lolo & Melissa are thankfully represented here. :)

Animal Wednesday: Emily on Love

Hello Everyone, it's me, Emily.
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Today I just thought I would remind you not to get too caught up with chores because if you do that you could forget to have fun and forget to be nice to people who are nice to you or might be nice to you if they knew you.
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This reminder might be extra important around Valentine's Day.
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Oh, and don't forget not to let anyone push you around and if they do you can either fall on the floor and scream while you are kicking your legs in the air, or you can tell them to take a short walk off a long pier.
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The point is to be nice to yourself first. That is a special secret I am sharing today. I added this point just now because I don't want anyone getting the idea that I am becoming too nice because I am really alot more fun when I whine and cry when there is a good enough reason and when I get in trouble and this might be true for you too.
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So Stand Up For Love and Stand Up For Yourself!
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Sincerely Yours,
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Emily. V. V. Rabbit
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*p.s. happy Valentine's Day to my best friend Marianne :>) and to you too.

Time for a Rhyme

Untitled

The toilet’s fixed
The grasses cut back
The appointment’s made
The snacks are packed.

The taxes aren’t done—
You can’t have it all—
But the trip’s been booked
& the garbage hauled.

The work’s wrapped up
The car’s been serviced
The stoops are painted
& no one’s nervous.

The time got spent
Finally put up the sign
Put the car in reverse
Put aside the divine.

The garden’s weeded
New bulbs on their way
& detoured hearts
Have had their say.

The weight’s been moved
To a straighter line
I might even be
Almost mostly fine.

Still, I had this loss
It’s a mile wide
I’m trying my best
To put it aside.

I’m familiar with hope
I know it well
But do circles close?
I'll let time tell.

♥
kj

Birthdays

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JB had a birthday this weekend. We had the luxury of celebrating it however she wanted, so from then to now we've seen the movie Avatar (amazing 3D--you have to see it); had our favorite pizza, went to an Capella concert, somebody got some pretty good presents, had brunch this morning at the best little restaurant, did what we wanted, and yours truly prepared a good home cooked meal.

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(Okay, so perhaps it doesn't look gourmet-ey,

but believe me, this little dessert was awesome. )

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It makes me happy to make JB's birthday memorable. She loves birthdays. Some years it's been a bit of a challenge (pain) for me but usually I'm able to find something she will love. This year it was a designer blouse or jacket--I'm not sure which, actually--a blue and black pattern with big glossy black buttons and tight black sleeves and over sized pockets and hot pink thin trim all inside. Very cool. And some barrettes and one bar of soap that I left around the house for little surprises. And one card that I paid $ 9.99 for because you opened it and these multi-colored little lights blink "YOU ROCK", like a neon sign in Times Square.. It is also the coolest thing.

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I am also including a couple of photos of Mr. Ryan's recent Birthday Party. Can you believe that 3 year old children would by themselves! climb up and slide down this truly high what-ever-it-is? I hope you are surprised too because otherwise I've become a wimp.

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Has any one else had a birthday recently? And by the way, how might you like to spend your birthday? If you would have it the way you'd like it....♥

More Novel in a Paragraph

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A word of explanation: I am writing a novel where short snippets will hopefully tell a story all by themselves but will also combine with other short snippets to reveal a deeper story. Here in my blog, perhaps once a week, I will share a few snippets, but in no sequence or logical order. That part comes much later.

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Okay, so it's not shaping up to be exactly a paragraph--more like microfiction since the literal definition of a paragraph is one and not two or more paragraphs But I'm stuck on the title and since sometimes I make up my own rules, please overlook that I have defined one paragraph far too loosely.

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This continues the writing of book # 2, built around several major characters--some of which are people, some places, some perceptions, some imagination. Thank you as always for coming along for the ride. I'm at a place where I could write non-stop, which is NOT possible, but it's a good feeling none-the-less.

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Seasons
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Casey couldn’t explain her attraction to Catherine: different cultures, different politics, different life styles, different geography, different experiences, different perceptions, different needs. They were two women who found each other in cyberspace one August day with no idea that everything would be formed and reformed into colors and words that nourished and exalted but in the end could not sustain.
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Every day, for hours and months and into years they talked, the first thing each morning, throughout their work days and weekends, and into the night, sharing and reveling in their histories and silly secrets and haunting hopes, laughing together like there was no tomorrow. They were both bright and playful and they brought out the best and the worse in each other, but there was one problem, and it never went away. Casey wanted more. She wanted face time with Catherine, wanted to plan when they would see one another, and Catherine, for her part, although she sometimes allowed herself to be pushed and often delighted in the tension and attention their disagreements caused, steadfastly refused, except on the occasions when, tickets in hand, she finally and nervously agreed, Casey, quelled and quieted by anticipatory peace.
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Counsel # 3

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“You have to have compassion,” Donna begins. “Catherine was your mother in another lifetime. She was a really good mother but she had a personality weakness. It was the culture of the time that women were subordinate to men, the only exceptions were witches and bitches and seducers. If you can understand this, you’ll have compassion for Catherine. She was married with two children. Her husband went off to fight and she got pregnant from another man, she had the baby and she put off what to do. You were that child. "

"There was no way she could stand up about it, she had no plan. When someone spotted her husband coming home, the news spread, she grabbed you up, you were four years and one month old. She ran with you through the woods to place where there was a dug out well four feet across the bottom. It was covered up with logs. She thought she could talk to him first and she’d come back for you, she snuck back and gave you some food. You couldn’t get out on your own. It was fifteen feet deep. You had one blanket, you were emotionally paralyzed. She doesn’t know what approach to take. On the second day she comes back, you are really scared. You think she doesn’t love you, your world was her face. She is paralyzed. You cry, you are so afraid.”

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Donna stops at this point. Casey detects a subtle shift. She continues. “There was a huge storm. You drowned. You died on the fifteenth day. You couldn’t reason at four years old. The whole world was caving in around you, even though there were people around. You died with intense craving and fear and confusion, an utter emotional state.”

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“Jesus,” Casey says. Donna is quick to respond. “YOU have to pick that baby up. You do it, in your mind, as if you were some woman who stumbled through the woods who really wanted that child. This is the energy between saving yourself and being a victim. You want Catherine to save you from these torrid feelings and she never will. So how is the best way to die?"

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"She loved you in that well but know you are going to lose your mind, you slipped away into hallucinations. There was no clarity at death, death was a gift. Your choice is you will never let go or you will leave in harmony and peace without her. You are like a bulldog that won’t let go. That is a beautiful quality—you understand and go after what’s most important—how incredible."

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"You should climb fast away thinking she will make you happy. You will be completely liberated. You will help others from permanently suffering. You will merge with God. Pray for the faith and determination to make that your focus. You cannot be part of the family. Have compassion for her. The supreme way is not difficult if only you do not pick and choose. The only cause of suffering is craving. You are on an incredible path. Let it be.
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For Renee

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A brave and wonderful woman has lost her mother at a time when her own strength and that of her family's is being tested and retested.
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This snippet is from a poem* I wrote a few years back, when my friend Willa died, and when I finally began to understand that love endures.
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If I were dying tonight, perhaps there would only be minutes,
Perhaps only seconds,
To tell you that I will leave with all the love
I have ever felt, and ever given.
I will take it all with me, tucked under my angel wing—
The accumulation of grace from every breath I have ever taken.

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Love

kj

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* to read the poem in its entirety, click on Blogland Lane on my sidebar.

Animal Wednesday: Sometimes Six Words are More Than Enough

Artwork For Sale on Etsy by Zeng
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Hello everyone! It's me, Emily. This week I am writing about kj's novel, kind of, which she is calling 'a novel in a paragraph' even though it's not always one paragraph.
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kj is trying to write using only words that can't be left out because if they are there is no story. And she is trying not to use any words than can be left out.
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Then today on the radio I heard about these books where people and I think rabbits too wrote a memoir about their lives using only six words. This is like the Six Word Saturday that kj sometimes does.
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Anyway I thought it would be fun to do this too. Here are some examples from the books:
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Loneliness: one egg in the pan
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My life made my therapist laugh.
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You want me to do what?
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I still practice my AcademyAward speech.
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And here are some of mine:
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Get Lost! You over ripe Banana!
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You are boring so go away.
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If you are not nice, trouble.
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Sometimes trouble is worth the fun.
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Rabbits are smarter than every fish.
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Boo-hoo-boo-hoo-boo-hoo.
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Boo-hoo-hee-hee-boo-boo

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And kj told me I should include this six word novel,

by Ernest Hemingway,

because she says it really tells a whole story just like that:
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For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never Worn
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I would like everyone who reads this today to write a story in six words. You can copy mine if you have to but why not try your own this one time? Maybe somebody will want to be friends with you just like that.
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Yours truly,
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Emily Rabbit

Life On The Couch

Tucked in between a visit to the butterfly museum where hundreds of butterflies flew overhead and landed everywhere, above exotic frogs and lizards and African quails and one reportedly spotted dinosaur;
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around one adult and one 3 year old standing on a chair snapping green beans and (loosely) measuring brown rice and pancake batter (not at the same time);
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besides taking a snow walk with BB, playing flower pot drums in the garage, and laying train tracks;
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and tucked and in between and around and besides all that was time on and scenery from the couch, as follows:

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Valerie Walsh, ValGal, my friend, an amazing artist: The Magic Cottage has a happy home here
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Did you know that when the Elephant squirted Henry the Train in the face, he was a BAD LISTENER! (So says Mr. Ryan, who decided he could no longer watch this NOT NICE! action by the Elephant...

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See how Val's painting sparkles?

His name is Robert Cardinal of Truro and Provincetown, and his Cape Cod and the Islands skies are magnificent.

Esther, Mildred & Angel Angel. Later in the day Angel Angel was thrown in the air and landed behind the couch, where she lay for 20 minutes or so, until she received an apology. I heard it from the other room, I'M SORRY ANGEL ANGEL...

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Wall hangings made by one Ms. JB

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Tolerant Stella had a vigilant weekend

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When it was over, two little boys went home to happy somewhat rested parents, soon to come again, and one Adult realized that the view from the Couch is as important as the view from the Eiffel Tower or Mount Fuji or the Empire State Building.

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Love,

kj