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 Sadie died last night.

A decade ago she arrived from the woods of Missouri, at first so catatonic that Jess and Mike would hold her in their arms and she wouldn't dare move. Beagles are the gentlest of dogs and they rarely fight back when harmed. And shelter dogs come with neglected and traumatic histories. But over time they make their gratitude clear and such was the case with Sadie. She would have nightmares from time to time, but she fit into the family of Jess and Mike with adorable quiet wonderful charm.

She had been sick, but she was not expected to die. We shudder with sadness. To my daughter and son-in-law and three little boys who are Sadie's family, she will live in your heart. And ours. Always. 

In life there is no getting around loss. It is finally Spring in New England. In just two days the crocuses have opened,  pansies are planted, the sky is no longer dark at five o'clock. Here at # 9 it's time to (gladly) turn to the yard. Two days ago, we began with this tree. Last year a tree specialist told us what could not be prevented: it will die. We could buy several years by cutting out infested areas including the center branch. He did that and then installed wires to hold its width together. 

But this winter a six inch wide six inch deep hole appeared; woodpeckers knowing full well the trunk is soft and vulnerable. The picture you see is the aftermath of Mr. Tree Specialist cutting out more infestation. 

We feel terrible for this tree. It is huge and old and stately. But it will die. We are doing our best to provide care for as long as it will benefit and we can afford, but there is a reality that must be faced. Everyday, it will die a little more until there is no care to be had.

I hope we will not be living here when that time comes. 

Which brings me to another truth. Life goes on. Good things happen too.

Eight years ago JB and I and Jess and Mike bought our houses at the same time. Now, we are by some co-incidence, doing that again.  

Jess and Mike have found the house of their dreams. I think they will raise their children there and stay put in this historic warmth for perhaps their lifetimes. The thought of my daughter and her family living here gives me such comfort. Huge comfort. 

And JB and me....

We may settle here at some point, in Provincetown, just a block from the bay, in a simple house large enough to welcome others;  our families, our friends. 

The yard is the size of a postage stamp. I will be able to keep up with it and I will be able to put my own postage stamp of design and creativity to selected shrubs and perennials and of course zinnias and a few tomato plants. And at some point, not yet, I will create a daily schedule to my liking: I will write and walk the beach and teach little boys about life near the sea and perhaps I will design and hold some workshops here. 

I will do all this as long as time and circumstance allow. 

 Sadie died last night. And like that tree my Mother is withering, not by her choice. And I have a friend who has miserable cancer and it sucks. Sometimes things don't go well. 

And sometimes they do. That is life.  Affirmations and positive thinking and good wishes may or may not help--I don't really know--but I can't numb my way through living or dying. I can't and I won't.

Wishing you the best, always

love

kj

Whirlwind

Maybe you can see that on the porch in the winter months there is a view of the bay across the street. JB and I are buying a house in Provincetown, a house that we will probably settle into one day and where my daughter and son-in-law and grandsons can come and make themselves at home. 

The thought of owning our own house in a coastal town where single family homes are at a premium has been exhilerating for us. But it has not been an easy ride. We are emeshed in the land of high finance and capital gains and complicated loans. I know: what a petty reason to complain when many cannot afford one house, let alone two. (Actually we can't afford two either, but as long as my Mother resides in a good rest home down the road, my primary residence must stay put.)

I am trying to speak a financial language I know nothing about: reverse exchanges and cash out refi's and conventional and unconventional loans and on and on. The mortgage guy we've trusted for years dropped the ball on this one, and we've had to scurry, fearful that we could lose the only perfect house we can afford.

It should be okay. But not yet and not without angst. I could wring a neck. I won't say who, but if that fricking commitment letter doesn't arrive in the next half hour, I'll be screeching.

Meanwhile, I am sitting at my desk and something snaps in my knee. I mean snaps! Torn minincus. I am on crutches, walking without grace or agility. Walking as little as possible.

Meanwhile, a favorite niece is arriving from Seattle tonight at midnight for a few days because she's had a tough time and needs support. No vicodin pain meds for me. I need to be present.

Meanwhile, my daughter Jess and her family have found the house of a lifetime: a Victorian that is as beautiful and warm a house as I have ever seen. Every part of me is in full prayer that this will go well for them; that it will be easier than our surrey through the purchase and sale of a house. 

Meanwhile, my Mother is doing well some days and hallucinating others. She is at risk of falling because she tries to walk when she cannot. 

Meanwhile, I have decided to stop my work as a psychotherapist by the end of May. I have one more mini career in me (more on that some other time) but it's been hell telling my clients I will be leaving. 

Okay. That's all. How am I doing?

Well, it's been crazy. So many good reasons to look ahead with so much gratitude. But jeez louise. My head spins. Not a quiet moment. Not able to work this week when I wish I could have. Not able to settle into the look of the future.

This is a post all about me. I am writing it for my own good. No sympathy needed :^) 

Maybe I'm just affirming, and sharing, that life can be a bitch and a half even through the good times. Maybe it's helpful to know that, to accept that, to curse it, to BREATHE through the smoke.

Thanks guys!

love

kj

Security and Passion.

"Security and passion are two separate fundamental human needs that spring from different motives and tend to pull us in different directions.... We all need security: permanence, reliability, stability and continuity.... But we also have a need for novelty and change, generative forces that give life fullness and vibrancy. We’re walking contradictions. What is true for human beings is true for every living things: all organisms require alternating periods of growth and equilibrium.” 

From Mating in Captivity by a sex therapist named Esther Perel.

Hmmmm. I'm writing about this very contradiction. It is a core part of my second, almost finished novel. 

Security or Passion? I'm curious: if you were choosing which way you'd like your life to lean, which would you favor? 

love

kj

Gary, Janice, and a Little House

Big news! JB and I will sell our sweet little condo in Provincetown and will buy this sweet little house in Provincetown. Single family homes in Provincetown have been and are absolutely out of our price range but somehow destiny has found us this place and it is perfect for us.

I am reveling in sharing the news with my friends. Below is an email exchange with my friend, Gary. JB and I and Gary and his wife Janice have good times together.

hahahaha!

In a message dated 3/13/2013 3:02:56 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time, karenjasper@comcast.net writes:

hi gary!

click on the link below to see our new house! we got the loan and will get the equity loan, so all is well. the reverse exchange process begins tomorrow. the house is perfect for us, short and long term.

whew! exciting.

thank you now and always for your help and friendship. 

hope to see you and janice soon

love karen

On Mar 13, 2013, at 3:36 PM, bfs1040 wrote:

I love good news.  It's great to shake life up a bit.

Love,

Gary

On Mar 13, 2013, at 4:24 PM, Karen Jasper  wrote:

Gary, did you look at the house? it's adorable!

interesting how things work out :^)

                              On Mar 13, 2013, at 4:27 PM, Gary wrote:

                  Yes I picked outta room

                              On Mar 13, 2013, at 4:30 PM, Karen Jasper wrote:

                       :~)  the room is yours, but no wild parties after 2 am.. 

                              On Mar 13, 2013, at 4:27 PM, Gary wrote:

                                     That eliminates Janice


I love my friends!

love
kj

Renee

I will never ever forget her.

Renee died three years ago this week. I have written about her before but in no way can I convey her uniqueness. She had dozens of us proclaiming love for each other and for her on her blog. She wrote about living with cancer and the bats in her stomach in the most honest and heartwarming way. 

Do yourself a favor and spend some time at  Circling My Head. Go back to 2009 and hear Renee herself waxing about life and love and family and art and forshitsakes. She will make you laugh and make you cry.

Everyday I love her deeply. Renee is one of a kind. 

This was one of her favorite poems. No wonder.

love

kj

 Here is Mayfly,
It is her first day on earth.
It is also her last.
Mayflies only live for one day.
But is she sad?
Not at all.
She is happy to be alive!

This isn't any old day.
This is the best of days.
She lives for each moment.
She sees the world begin,
She hears the crack of dawn.
And bathes in its golden glow.
A billion buds burst open.
All for her!

She tastes her honey.

Mayfly sees eggs hatch.
Babies born.
Lambs learning to stand.
The business of ants.
The dizziness of children...
The loveliness of things.

She feels the sun's warm hug.
The kiss of summer rain.
The magic of the rainbow.

It is her wedding day.
Trees throw confetti.
There are games on the lawn.
Breezes blow, bells chime.
Birds sing!
She dancesto the music of the universe.

Mayfly lays her eggs.
It is a peaceful night.
The best of nights.

She makes one last wish:
'Little ones, may all your tomorrows be as perfect as my yesterday!'
Mayfly watches the moon come up and the stars go out.
And is thankful for her wonderful life

Where I've Been

Strange times. Faces in trees. Sad moments. Great joy. This has been my last few weeks. 

I have traveled to Arizona for the memorial of a father, a brother-in-law, a professor, a good man, a quiet man with a mile wide smile. 

 He was an Iowa farm boy with a gift of brilliance; 'Doctor' to his university students who came to the church by the dozens, on a Saturday afternoon when there were so many other places they could have been.   I sat behind his daughters, who in this same church a decade ago mourned the loss of his wife, their Mother. And I sat beside my partner JB, saying goodbye to a man she had known as a teenager, heartbroken for herself and for her family. 

 It takes a long day to travel from New England to Arizona. So we stayed on after the memorial, a few days on the road, to a spa, to unwind, to catch our breath. Change is underfoot and it is both uncertain and predestined. It is too soon to speak in detail, maybe even too soon to even know what all the details are. But JB and I are in a whirlwind. If you know me and know some of what I refer to, please: Ssssh. Not yet. 

a new definition of on line.....

We headed for the Camel Back Inn in Scottsdale. Wow.

I average one massage a year. This time I had two. And a manicure and a pedicure. It was indulgence without caution. It was wonderful. 

 And chocolate fondue for lunch. In our spa robes. 

And mile high guacamole. 

So now I am back home. For the first time, today my Mother didn't recognize me. She was sure I am her sister. She is not the same as a month ago. I worry. I miss her.  But too: I have reason to be thankful. There are new possibilities. I am lucky to be able to chase them. My knees may knock but JB and I chase anyway. We're a good team like that. 

Life is hard. But not just.

love

kj

A Brief Love Letter

I could not find words to say this better. 

Thank you so much for the excitement and joy and support you bring to my life.

happy V day!

love

kj

Ode to a Snow Day

Mr Ryan, Drew, and Logan

Three little boys 

sliding on a sled

One was glad

He wasn't in bed

Until he fell off 

and then he said

Just two little boys

sliding on a sled

Two little boys

sliding on a sled

Slippin and grippin

and shaking their head

Whee they screamed

quite giddily led

Until one little boy

fell over instead

One little boy

sliding on a sled

Looking at his brothers

holding cookies instead

Help! he called

and then he said
Wait! I'm coming!

Cookies in bed! 

with proper thanks to Five Little Monkeys, which I have read aloud no less than one zillion times.

love kj

Whirlwind

I don't know why. I'm in spot where much is happening though not so obvious to the eye. For one thing, I am changing/reconfiguring/decreasing/leaving/re-evaluating my work. I am staring hard into the eyes of practicality and money and insisting that they and I look at now, and a year from now: so what if it's at the expense of life at ninety? 

Also, my Mother has had a small stroke. She leans to the left and is weak. For a number of days her green eyes, those eyes I will always see and love, seemed vacant, to varying degrees. (My Mother is now 97. She has broken her hip, her shoulder, her arm and her finger, all separately. She was in bed honestly dying for three months last winter. So I and everyone who knows her is not counting her out. ) What I am doing is treasuring this remarkable woman I have come to know, adult to adult, daughter to Mother.

And JB had a big round number birthday this week. I made her a cake, we took the day off and went to lunch and then to see Argo at an afternoon matinee.  We had plans to spend Friday night in Boston at the Elliot Hotel but instead we have stacked firewood on the porch and are watching a blizzard unfold that is predicted to drop 12-24 inches of snow. Two feet is alot of snow. 

We are not in Boston going to museums and acting sophisticated. Instead, we are home quietly and consistently eating birthday cake. :^)

Soon I am going to do a post on this poster.  

One definite thing about predicted snow storms in New England is that people (over) prepare. We have flashlights and candles and batteries and food. I spent the morning casually and happily cooking. I made spaghetti sauce, my Father's recipe. I'm making beef stew in the crock pot. I may bake bread. 

Like a Senior Squirrel Girl Scout, I want to be prepared if we lose our electrical power. Food. Fireplace. Light. I remember my parents planning for storms like this when I was a little girl. I remember how great it felt to lose power and glow in the dark. I remember I had a pretty happy childhood.

Here he is: Mr. Chase. He is getting abit softer. However, he howls in the middle of the night (like a wolf), he will not pee no way on a leash, he declines to come when he's called. And his seizure medications are too expensive. 

That said, I'm glad for him. Today he we took him  into Look Park as some serious snow and little wind gusts hit us. It was entirely new for him. He had on his fleece overcoat that greyhounds need in winter because their skin is thinner than a baby's. He liked it. 

Chase is not always this relaxed. We think sometimes he has baby seizures and then his face is tighter. But all in all I think he is going to have a good life here. 

Hmmm, now who is this?

the little speck of a yellow house is mine

JB and I are settled home until this blizzard ends sometime tomorrow night. I might get up at 3 am tonight just to see the height of the wind and drifts.

I am now finished with this post and I've ended up not writing about the whirlwind of my life currently.  Instead, I've focused on a snapshot of a day or two, with good reasons to be thankful. I am thankful. But don't go thinking I'm at the place of peace where I want to be, and I want to stay, because I'm not there.

Happy weekend

with love

kj

What I Can Say About Writing a Novel

First, I am writing this on my iPhone so I am forced to be brief.

I hit a milestone last week. I finished reading 400 double spaced pages of a first draft of a novel about love and obsession. I edited and made marks and comments. I printed out every chapter separately and stabled each chapter together. I have three stacks: a beginning, a middle, and an end, sort of.

Now I am ready to:

--think about the best order of the chapters (this is VERY hard)
--see where there are gaps or omissions or overkill and write at least a few 'bridge' chapters and probably chop out some sections
--get rid of all unnecessary wordiness
--change some names and some locations and some descriptions so no one I care about gets hurt or mad at me
-- check the verbs and make sure they are as strong as possible
--reread it all and judge it: is it any good?  Is the character Casey transformed? What's the lesson?

I would have given examples but I'm posting on my cellphone for the first time ever. Forgive my typos.

The stage I am at now with this novel is a lot of fun.

:-)

Love
kj
   

Thoughts on a Quiet Night

Do you believe in coincidence? Or more to the point, do you believe in synchronicity? 

One by one I took the bulbs, the ornaments, the lights off this Christmas tree. I checked and double checked. It was not until JB arrived home that night that she pointed to this one tin heart. How could I have possibly missed it? And what did it mean, of all the ornaments on the tree, that this one, this little  heart, was hidden to me and then lickity-split in plain view?

JB has a new friend. Her name is Peaches and she dances. She also steals cookies. If you don't know already, there is this remarkable talented woman named Pam who also goes by the name of Yoborobo --whose plushies like Peaches make a person sing. Ms. Yoborobo has become a dear friend to me and many, with damn good reason.

JB lost her sister twelve years ago to $#@*& cancer. This week her brother-in-law died too. Unexpected and so sad, we traveled to the desert, arriving no more than forty minutes before he died, at home, aided and cared for by his two daughters. To be orphaned before you turn thirty years old? What universe dares to think that is fair? I look at this chair and I am reminded how fleeting and fragile life is. 

Don't Postpone Joy. I know this is trite and it is also true. He could be sitting in this chair. Two weeks ago he was. The line is so thin. Be kind, yes, but while you can, be outrageous too. Love outrageously. That's my free advice.

What incredible patterns in the land below. Where do all these squares and circles come from? I can't fathom it.

The Arizona desert is so different from my New England. There is a stark simplicity to it all. 

And there is authentic Mexican food. My heart flutters. There is no meal I like more. Except my orgasmic Mr. Sushi. 

I traveled home alone. JB has stayed another week to help her nieces. The day after Christmas, I got sick and I stayed sick for two plus weeks. Before that the holidays were lovely and hectic. So here I am now, home alone, gratefully, in a quiet place, just our dog and me. It is a silence I have needed. I've been able to write, to fall in and out of bed when I wish. I made beef stew in the crock pot. I've watched the Presidential Inauguration. I called friends. Wrote some cards. Prayed that fucking cancer starts losing the battle every time.

I've been thinking. It's taken me four years to get over a hurt that I couldn't seem to let go of. Four years; it might even be five. I wonder what that says about me? Here's one conclusion I've come to: there's no helpful fault line. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not perfect, but I lean on the side of kind and vibrant. I like me that way, Maybe I chose the wrong person, maybe I had some lessons to learn. Maybe even some gifts were given and taken. Maybe whatever happened happened because kicking and screaming I've been enriched by it. 

Our human condition... 

Don't Postpone Joy.

love

kj

Little Man

Little Man

I will not know your children; 

And even if that may not be so

they will not know me

As I run to you,

holding your hand

walking beside you with the camera

we bought for you on my birthday.

They will not know how content

when I rub your head and back,

Mr. video child who colors in the lines

as calm as a baby bird,

patient and prepared

with intensity that wraps around resilience.

I told your mother

I could not love her children 

as much as I loved her;

then, I couldn’t imagine anyone able to stretch love

beyond that loyal vast place. 

I was right but also wrong

because the lives I will lie down for--

your father and brothers too--

I would not equivocate, 

my clear decision so all of you

may all hold steady.

In the kitchen 

just before we reached the table

you came quickly, and wrapped your arms around my legs 

from nowhere, and we acknowledged. 

I will remember that moment that cannot be altered, 

our affirmation to the last breath.

I tell you I love you

and you tell me you know. 

I tell you it’s okay

and you tell me no:

you should have known the ornament was glass,

you say, not the wood you expected when you bit into it.

I tell you six years is not long enough

to know all that 

but I stop from adding that even sixty years

is sometimes not long enough.

Even Adam bit the wrong apple 

And even your Grandmother's lost a gamble.

I can’t protect you, little man.

But I will be your audience forever 

and I will applaud every achievement,

every misstep, every mistake.

I will hold you in my arms even when 

embrace is at a distance.

It means everything to come first sometimes

and I and your family will show you that.

You are six years old today; 

You, a poet, a gamer, a Patriot, a colorer, 

a child who will watch me age,

understanding how easily I bend 

to love all that you love too. 

Happy Birthday Ryan,

love Gram

Big Deal

Hard to explain,

Harder still to make sense

Some things go wrong

Want a wing, get a fence.

World's a mess

Yes I know

I can see

What is so.

But I can't bring myself

To neglect all this shine

People and places

That make my life mine

I don't know why I find myself creating this gooey post. I could be sad about many things beyond my control. But I was carrying my apple laptop into the living room today--I get such joy from it--remembering that it took me almost a year to finally decide to buy it, and I started thinking about little deals that are big deals. 

If I died tomorrow, honest to god, I don't think I would have regrets. I'm surprised by that, and even thinking it  is one big deal.

Rotterdam Germany. I've stood here (thanks joss)

 Sedona Arizona. I've stood here too

 My parents' yard for 63 years

Back of an elementary school stage when I counseled a little boy

when Mr. Ryan was born 

 New York with my two brightest stars

Mr. Sushi (orgasm)

97 years old this week

barely a two hour trip to the city that never sleeps

breakfasts (lo! marianne! lori!)

after 100 begs,  a friend relinquishes this special box

to be able to love animals

my father's popsicle rocking chair

You must have some big deals too, yes?...

Love

kj