Safe and Sound

The MonkeyGirl is back in Portland, and headed to Boise tomorrow for the bar mitzvah of a friend's little brother.

She seems older somehow. More mature. More sure.

She has a ton of stories (I've heard only a few of them so far), but I think this is my favorite –– The scene: A Bedouin tent in the Negev. Two boys from Jersey in one group, Sara with her group from Oregon.

Kid 1 from Jersey, to Sara:

My friend over there is interested in you.

Sara:

Strike 1 ~ You are talking to me and he's not.

Strike 2 ~ I don't do flings.

Strike 3 ~ I'm involved with someone.

end of conversation. G-d I love that girl.

updated July 3.

She's Safe! (and happy)

Sara called this morning from Israel, where she has been since the 16th. Pretty quickly after getting there, her wallet was stolen. That has been the only hiccup so far... and luckily, her passport was stored safely away from the wallet.

She was bubbling over with excitement. Apparently, there are thousands of photos from the group, so I am looking forward to the slide show. I'll supply the popcorn...

She decided to come home with the group on the 27th, rather than stay for 3 more weeks on her own. Was I worried? Who? Me?

I was "intrigued" at the idea of the girl wandering a war zone on her own. Thankfully, she decided against that.

whew.

Too soon

My nephew Paul died on June 4th. His passing was a shock, and left a hole in our world. Jake and Sara and I went down to the funeral and I've been thinking on many things lately.

The most powerful images from the funeral and the reception were glimpses of the amazing young women my nieces have become. Stephanie is 16 and lost her big brother; Kate is 23 and lost her punching bag puppy dog little brother. Both acted with incredible grace in the face of almost overwhelming sadness.

Poise

Twenty-three is not old enough
Sixteen much too young
to show so much poise
and be so strong.

To move with such grace
through so much pain
and to help so many
learn to smile again.

Though a brother is gone
too soon, too much undone
the sisters too early blossomed
into the women they’ve become.

kim

june 2010

Going Green

Yesterday was a lovely slow Sunday. I got home late Saturday night from Jake's after seeing many of our Peabody Clan.

Spent Sunday "puttering" and doing chores. On my list was "Weedeat the driveway."

Here's my solar-powered automatic weed eater. And he fertilizes too...

Eugene Tame Life

The Girls and I are going hiking this weekend!! They will carry their own food and water, and some of my stuff...

And since I am completely unfocused on my work anyway, I might as well go for a really long walk, right?

Eugene Wild Life

I mean, wildlife...

A gray fox visited me this morning. Of course, I couldn't find my camera, but he looked just like this one (though much wetter -- this IS Eugene, after all):

Common Gray Fox Urocyon cinereoargenteus

Moving through...

Tomorrow, I'll join Jake and Sara in Irvine for a funeral. My sister's 20 year old son died unexpectedly last Friday night. He had just finished his Sophomore year at Purdue. Paul was a force of nature, and I will miss him terribly.

I have no idea how Megan and Don or Kate or Steph are getting through this.

Here's Paul (with Kate, Steph, Megan/Mom and Don/Dad) at his high school graduation, June 2008.

Here's Paul, a knobby-kneed teen, in 2003. He always had that mischievous grin on his face.

Paul's dad, Don, is running for California Assembly. It's looking likely that Don will win the Republican primary (the votes are still being counted...). Because of Don's political activities, Paul's death is being covered in the news. This article also has some nice photos...

What's it all about, Alfie?

My 11th grade English teacher was a 50-something hippie; she'd grown up on a commune and lived life intentionally. A concept I didn't really understand at 16.

The very first question of the first day of class was "What's it all about, Alfie?" and she played the song while we wrote and debated that question. Later, we read the poem "Richard Corey" and played Paul Simon's version.

She taught me about the power of language to influence ideas and the power of ideas to influence language. Lessons I am still learning.

So, now, 34 years later, I return to that first question, and its corollary: Do I own my stuff or does my stuff own me?

I have talked with Jake and Sara about the secret to happiness: find something you would do for free, and then find someone who will pay you to do that. What I am beginning to understand is that, if you live lightly, you could do it for free.

For instance, one of my two jobs earns the money to pay my mortgage. If I didn't have a mortgage, I could give up one of my two jobs. I'm not working for "The Man" – I am working for The House.

But I'm not ready to give up the house, yet. I have a spaghetti bowl full of emotions and self-worth issues and hopes for the future tied up in home-ownership.

So, one step at a time.

Step 1: I am trying to rent out most of the house, for enough to pay the mortgage.

Step 2: I will spend the next months meditating on those emotions, self-worth-issues and hopes-for-the-future. To untangle those strands and separate my Self from my Stuff. Trying to answer that question.

What's it all about?