In Aruba Part 1

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Just before I left for my family vacation in Aruba, my dear friend Lo told me to be sure to draw some while I was gone. So I packed up my colored pencils, #3 & 5 micron pens, one favorite pencil, one small pencil sharpener, AND my special moleskine, the one that is designed for two sketches per page.

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I spent the week with JB, Mr. Ryan, my beloved daughter Jessica, her best friend Janna, and her Mother-in-law Pat. This was the second time we girls plus Mr. Ryan lounged around in Aruba, and the second time we had a blast together.

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Our days consisted of early morning to late afternoon outdoors, lounging, swimming, floating, sunning, eating, sipping, chatting, strolling, following iguanas, bobbing, splashing, and for me drawing. And our nights consisted of more of all of the above except for following the iguanas.

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Mr. Ryan age 3 was total fun the entire week. Here is a collaboration with him and with contributions by his Mother, three grandmothers, and Janna. To him we spent our week in one of two places: either the hotel or 'in aruba'.

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Thank you for so many notes and comments about Renee. It was difficult to lose her and be away from our shared grief at the same time. I will write about that later, once I settle back home. I will also share an idea I have about how we can collectively honor both Renee and her many friends and at the same time offer comfort to her family and to ourselves.

Love kj

xoxoxo

Last night I was kept awake by a sore throat including difficulty swallowing. How ironic. I am in Aruba with my family and we are having a wonderful time. But when I couldn't sleep I got up around 1 am and for some odd reason I opened my iphone to my blog. I learned in that early hour that our beloved Senior Angel Renee had died.

My thoughts are with every single person who has come to love Renee has I have. I am so sorry for your loss. I will have more to say at the end of my vacation next week, but for now please know that I understand how you feel and how could it be otherwise?

Oh Renee, how we love you.

Love always,

kj

Gone Fishing...

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Well, not really fishing. More like sunbathing

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and swimming

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and floating down a lazy river in a rubber tube.

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I'll be gone for a week

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and when I return it will be spring
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including the plans of somebunny you might know

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to start a jellybean farm in the backyard.

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and plan a spring party for a few of her friends.

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While I'm away

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I will pray for Renee & her family.

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I will use my colored pencils

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and micron pens.

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And I will think about

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how great it is

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to share a world of friendship

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and creativity

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right here.

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Be well everyone.

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If I didn't get to visit you

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before packing up for a week in Aruba,

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please forgive me this one time.

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Afterall, it's hard work preparing for a tropical vacation.

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hee hee

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XOXOXOX

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love

kj

More Novel in a Paragraph

kj: It doesn't feel right to write on my blog as if nothing is wrong.

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Renee: Nothing is wrong, kj. Don't worry about me. xoxox

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kj: But Renee, your children, your family, all of us here in the blogs who can't bear to let you go.

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Renee: You don't have to let me go.

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kj: I am still going to bitch to you whenever I need to.

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Renee: Har har har. That's fine kj. I have big shoulders. xoxox
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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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Hitched
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Yan* and Casey got married above the Post Office Café in Provincetown, standing on a make shift stage used nightly for the sold out drag queen performances of Jimmy James, who impersonated Marilyn Monroe like nobody’s business. They were standing on that stage because of a historic Massachusetts ruling that legalized gay marriage and because their blood tests were about to expire. Responding to Casey’s phone call, the manager and sometimes minister of the Post Office Café, a tall goofy looking man named Dixie said he could perform the ceremony but only right away. Casey hung up from him, told Yan to finish her breakfast and change out of her pajamas, and off they went, two women together for twenty years, unaware that the ceremony itself would be surprisingly affirming and nothing short of hotdamn historic.

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Dixie read them their vows, threw in a poem he had written for good measure, giggled in a couple of spots, and they walked off the make shift stage utterly shocked by the significance of the occasion, these two, the 1006th couple to tie a legal knot in Provincetown that year.
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Irony

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Somewhere somehow in Catherine’s history she had been hurt or blinded to the point that she could not navigate her way to compassion. She came from a country where the government was corrupt, where justice took place randomly and often only for those who could afford to pursue it. For Catherine, it was all about self sufficiency. If you couldn’t care for and tend to yourself and your family, you got what you deserved. That did not explain her utter failure to understand when her words and actions lacked empathy or hurt someone, but ironically it made it easier for her to drop the conscience part and comfortably settle into her own version of undeserving victim.

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* FYI: I have been ambivalent about what to name Casey's partner. I've considered Maggie, and Jelly, and at least for now, I am settling on Yan. So if you search for past snippets under "Novel in a Paragraph" and you find references to Maggie, she and Yan are one and the same. :)

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Rest softly Renee, the Angel Tribe is waiting for you.

Fetch

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This is a case of rereading something I wrote a couple of years ago and only now found again.

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I don't know what actually happens when someone dies, but I do believe that nobody leaves alone; that there are guides, friends, angels, relatives, that appear to fetch us home.

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Oh my heart sister, my moon sister Renee. You are missed so so much. If and you have to leave, I know you will be fetched by the most loving of hands and hearts.
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Mostly, this is about loving someone and escorting her/him home......
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Fetch

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I’m not sure if I’m leaning over or looking down. From all appearances, this is a sad day every which way--solemn faces surrounding you with thin streams of small tears, slightly creased and tightened lips, some wispy nervous laughter spilling over you like a sprinkler in the August heat.

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They sit beside you, or at the bed’s edge, sometimes wiping your forehead with an ice cold cotton facecloth and regularly retelling your funny stories, including the one when you drove that guy’s motorcycle off the shorter than expected pier and then had to face his passive bewilderment.
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You are dying, and I have come to fetch you home. I promised you I would do this years ago, when we were still feeling our oats and opportunities, when we kind of promised each other we wouldn’t have to make that final trip alone. Of course, that was after I already knew from Michael, who had been a hospice guide two hundred times he said, that nobody leaves alone anyway. He told me one guy stepped into a small boat captained by his tattered and musty childhood teddy bear, who steered them and that vessel upward and onward.
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I figured I would fetch you and not the other way around. So here I am. Your parents are in front of me, so patient and serene I’m reminded of the story you told me about when you left home for the first time and wrote them love letters every day for two years. Your mother is not crying the way you described she did then. I can see she is delighted to be here, looking at you so lovingly, breathing so quietly that the smile on her face barely moves.
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I’m standing slightly to the left of center, where I’ve always been. I brought the art bag--no fiesta ware on this trip--but I filled the bag with pilot pens and your sister’s marbles, your shells and painting supplies and the pictures of Isabella and the rest of your family including me. In the left sided seam I tucked in an unlimited phone card. I know you will rib me for this decision unmercifully, but hey!, phones might be available someday and if they are, they won’t be free. That’s where the card comes in. We’ve connected all these years. There’s no need to risk changing that. Plus I like the idea of being able to still talk in words.
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So I’m here to fetch you. I may hover to one side so I don’t get in the way, but you’ll know I’m here the same way you always have. Your breathing is irregular and there is a nurse leaning over you. She knows you have only seconds left and she is preparing your family and friends. They are saying their goodbyes. Although you aren’t moving anything, you are whispering about deep love. I smile that you remembered to pass that on as your final word.
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I can tell you for sure you have nothing to worry about. The trip is short and airy. I’ll hold on to your left elbow and guide you in a curved arc that could just as well be a straight-up line. You will look down and whisper one more time, I will laugh when you settle in and find with both comedy and comfort that my invisible rocking chair is still next to yours. We’re still rocking after all these years. How about that?

Mini Mish Mash

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1. I apologize that I am behind in visiting my favorite blogs. I am working overtime doing this and that because on Sunday I will begin a week's vacation in Aruba. This will be my second trip there, where the weather is a predictable 84 degrees every day and the vibrant and varied shades of blue include lizards and iguanas and frozen smoothies.

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I am going with JB, Jess, her mother-in-law, her best friend, and Mr. Ryan. And for a few days my SIL Mike. My plan is to fall asleep by the pool, float in the ocean, read a couple of books, float en mass on the lazy river (awesome) maybe write some, eat, and all around frolic with totally wonderful people.

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When I told my clients I will be away, several of them said "Again?" How come it doesn't feel like 'again' to me? To me it feels like, ah, a well deserved week in the sun.

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2. I think I got this idea from Martha Stewart: when you are painting a room, write the paint colors and paint numbers on the wall next to a light switch. When you put the switch cover back on, it won't be seen and you will have an easy peasy way to remember what paint you used.

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3. Two of my favorite phrases: "Wag more, bark less" & "Never cut what can be untied"

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4. This barn is part of the voc tech high school near my house. I took this photo last year in late April or early May. I love the way the light looks in those months, to me it's transparent and fresh.

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5. This book of mine is still not getting the promotional attention from me that it needs and deserves, but today I came across a review on Amazon that made my day. I love it when the book touches someone I don't know in the way I so hoped for while I was writing it.

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Bailey, who ever you are, thank you so much.

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I love this book, February 8, 2010
By Bailey
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This is not your run-of-mill love story. It is a love story that is different from any other that I have read. Truly original.
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Alex and Lily's story is told with class and charm. I won't spoil the story for you by revealing too much plot. I will tell you that I reread the last 20 pages four or five times and that tears were shed each time.
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I picked up the book and couldn't put it down until it was finished. It only took a few hours to read but I'm sure the story will stay with me for a good, long time.
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Do yourself a favor and read "The Light Stays On". It is a rare gem.

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6. Have you ever tried saving just $ 20 bills? I had a piggy bank that couldn't be opened without breaking it in pieces. Once and sometimes twice a month I put my first $ 20 in that bank and I only put in 20's, nothing smaller. When I finally cracked it open, I had $ 2200. Honest to God. Two thousand two hundred dollars.

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I am a big fan of saving even small amounts and letting them accumulate. These days I still save 20's, tucked into a paperback book in my office bookshelf. I save the bills, spend them, and then save again and spend again and save again. It is my secret slush fund, there for me on a whim or in a jam.

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6. One of my clients is a ten year old girl who was bullied last year because she is large and overweight for her age and because her hair is wild. I see her at school where we meet in the Anger Management Room because it is the only spot available. There is no furniture in it so we sit on the floor, talk, play checkers, sometimes draw or make up stories.

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Last week we were talking about being angry and ways to express it. I chuckled, looked around the empty padded room, and said, "Wouldn't it be great if we had a dozen eggs when we were mad and we could just throw them at the wall?"

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She chuckled back and didn't miss a beat. "Yeah," she said, "but then this would be the Egger Management room!"

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I love my clients....

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Have a good day, friends. And please keep praying for Renee. Pray for her comfort. Pray for her family. And pray for those of us who have to let her go.

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Love

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kj

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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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,

.

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
.

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.

,

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.

,

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.

,

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

.

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. :)