Cold Snap

I am buried underneath a down duvet, a wool blanket, a quilt, and a sleeping bag wearing wool socks, sweatpants with a t-shirt tucked into them at the waste, and a wool sweater and clutching a hot water bottle. Something is wrong with our heater and we can't figure out how to get it going!
I was just checking the weather forecast online and getting a little depressed that the extended forecast seems to hover in the low sixties, when I spotted a bright yellow band across the screen that said "Severe Weather Alert for Encinitas, CA" I clicked and found that "severe" is a frost advisory! Between 1am and 8am, "areas sheltered from the wind will fall to between 28 and 33 degrees...and widespread frost is possible"! Forget the fact that I thought I was going to live in eternal summer and am instead being crushed by the weight of my own bedding, I find joy in the fact that frost is considered severe!

Here Nor There

I have decided to kindly but firmly decline the use of simple carbs in my daily meals, snack less and not eat after 6pm. I just could not face having to buy any bigger pants than I'm already wearing. I find the more people you tell about these resolutions, the easier it is to keep them.
I had the whole day free today and I thought I'd better keep it open to prepare for school resuming tomorrow, but if you know me well, you know I've never spent more than 20 minutes preparing in my life, so I was quite pleased when an adventure presented itself.
I was wrestling with the idea of going to IKEA for a laundry hamper. It is scandalous how much everyone else is charging for them! I was comparing prices on line when I heard a man's voice shouting "Hellooo?" So I went to the door and the fellow introduced himself. He is an artist who makes wind chimes from plant materials and obsidian (which I believe is lava rock?). He had gathered some apparently rare eucalyptus pods from our back lot and came to tell us he would like to send us a chime as a token of thanks. Never mind we don't own the land or the pods! He took down our address and gave me a free pass to the San Diego Arts Festival where his wife was at that moment watching their booth.
Since I needed to go to IKEA anyway, I decided to make a day of it. I got stuck in molasses-like game day traffic (IKEA is right by the stadium) but crowds inside the store were not bad at all for the biggest shopping weekend of them all. I of course got way more than just a laundry hamper, but it was all useful and life-improving.
Then I proudly sniffed out the convention center with no directions and caught the tail end of the craft show. It was like a sauna in there, just like the Kimberton Craft Show is every year, and the mall come to think of it! Why Are malls so hot and movie theaters so cold? It defies logic.
Anyway, I stopped in at the mans booth to thank him for the ticket in. He said "Oh good, you'll save me postage!" and told me to pick out a chime. He showed me which pods were from our yard and I picked one that looked like a bird in a nest, thinking it could be a reminder that a lone bird is not always the bearer of sorrow. The one hanging up had a broken tail, so he rooted around in the back and brought out a double birded nest! That has to be the best bird pair sighting yet! He carefully wrapped it up and sent me away with a sweet and sincere wish that I enjoy a wonderful holiday season.
The rest of the show was either not in my budget or not my taste. It was like a ghost town in there and over the murmur of shoppers a steel drum band was playing cheesy favorites like "Little Drummer Boy". I bought some delicious-smelling soaps from another crafter and finally, having seen it all, made for the door.
Parking seemed miles away and my dogs were barkin'. My Birkenstock Bostons do not have the aggressive support of my Arizonas and they had let me down. The last shoppers were trickling along the sidewalk and I decided to indulge in one of the pleasures of being a stranger. I took off my shoes and walked to the car in my socks, really not caring what passers by thought.

Thanksgiving

I realized yesterday that I am not so good at gratitude, at least not these days. When someone asks me how I am, I am much more likely to tell them how frustrating work is than to describe how the air is warmer outside the house when I open the door in the morning or how my bank account is back to having protective cushioning after months of money emergencies. Sad to say, but the things I have not yet found consume my thoughts far more than the things I have, which makes me more hopeful than thankful. Hope is a feeling I'm familiar with, mixed with a little resignation to the imperfection of what is. I have looked down the road for perfection my whole life. I think I'd like to work on seeing the perfection of each minute as it happens. I think that would be far more satisfying. But it is pretty unfamiliar.
I remember feeling exactly this way at this time of year in France. I had crossed the ocean hoping that my sacrifice would cause the clouds to open and reveal my future. The clouds never opened, but I eventually met people who filled up the present so deliciously that I stopped relying on the clouds. But the absence of companionship returns as a theme in my life and I find myself looking up again, looking for a way to fill my own present.

Hack

I can't seem to shake the broncho-laryngeal issues I've been having pretty much since the first week of teaching. It is common for me to have an autumnal bout of cough, but seldom has it stretched on like this! No sooner do I think it's gone then it swings around again! And it can be no coincidence that my affliction is centered around the throat chakra - my voice.
Struggling to find and use my voice has been a life pattern. I could draw a map of my life and I'm sure most of the major intersections would be connected in some way with singing, speaking, or illness of the throat.
I was supposed to have Thanksgiving with some cousins I've never met, but their mom, who I guess is also my cousin, is struggling with illness and they have decided to lay low. So I'm on my own for Turkey day! I did that once before by choice, and it was fun. But I am on my own so much these days that I was really looking forward to being part of some holiday bustle. Oh well, I'll think of a way to mark the day!
You may know of my obsession with counting birds as omens. I cringe inwardly when I see the single bird, the sign of sorrow. On my Sunday walk I saw a lone quail on the wire and I just stood and took it in. I meditated on his solitude as a strength and a wholeness. As I was driving to a home visit this afternoon, I saw a pair of huge crows sitting on a very low wire by the road. They didn't fly off as birds of any number so often do, they didn't even stir. They even seemed to look me in the eye!

Juice

It rained here last night; real, honest-to-goodness, puddles-in-the-driveway rain. In the morning the sun landed right IN my eye at what I assume to be about 7am. I rolled away from it to the other side of the bed and slept for another hour, then I got up and went for a walk. It was perfect walking weather, a little chilly at first, but once the blood was pumping I was glad for the coolness. Quail were holding council on the telephone wire. The rain had knocked a still-green orange off of a neighbor's tree, complete with stem and layers of leaves. On my way back I picked it up, along with a tiny lemon from another neighbor, set up a little still life on the patio table and got out my paints. For a couple of hours I thought about nothing but color and shape as nature's bounty passed through my interior spaces and returned through my hands as something small and fixed.
One of my chief frustrations of late has been a need to process all the new things I am taking in, and feeling like all my creative energy was being diverted toward work, sparking the downward spiral of blame and self-pity on which I have lately been riding. Henceforth I hope to alot only some of these forces for professional use, guarding the majority for my self.

Little Miracles

I was in Jimbo's, perusing the chocolate selection, when an older woman asked which was the best kind. She was a milk chocolate-lover, like me, and I directed her to the Endangered Species bars. She chose the one with rice crisps in it. Then she asked what I knew about energy bars (they are right next to the chocolate). I told her I liked Lara bars, ginger snap being my favorite. She thought that sounded wonderful. I also told her about the Organic Greens bar which my mom promoted to me. It's some crazy chocolate bar that contains a weeks worth of vegetables or something. My new friend was very pleased with her selection and headed off to finish her shopping. I dropped a bar of milk chocolate with pecan praline into my basket and made for the checkout.
I saw a rainbow today at dusk. It rippled over the stripes of cloud that spanned the sky. I always feel lucky when I see one.

Zapped

I was going to complain about how Suave is the latest hair care line to ignore redheads.
I was going to compare the evening sky to a baby shower invitation; perfect baby blue with stripes of petal pink cloud.
As I go about my daily grind I compose sentences, sometimes paragraphs, but when it comes down to it, I have no strength left for creation.
I've been wanting to get the orange tree in the back yard down on canvas. And finish the skirt I started making when I moved down here. But I end up running to Michaels for more school craft supplies, throwing together pizza dough for tomorrow's snack, emailing and phone calling about whose kid hit whom in school today, and collapsing in front of Sex and the City, wishing for just an ounce of glamour in my life.
I am where I wanted to be. I am grateful. Its just that I also thought that I'd be doing something I loved, or at least something I didn't have to think very hard about, but somehow I find myself shaking my fists at the sky and asking why I ended up with the very job I left behind.

Where Am I?

I saw Running with Scissors this afternoon. It was a good film, but I am deeply grateful that I am not one of those people! I had a very bizarre experience during the film, however. For several seconds I did not remember where I was or where I lived. Several options flashed through my mind and I knew they were all wrong, but I couldn't for the life of me picture where I would be driving home to after the film! This leads me to believe that I have landed in more permanent digs not a moment too soon!
I got hangers at Target and for the first time since Seattle I am able to hang up my clothes. While I was cheerfully going about this, Heather stuck her head 'round the door and said she was headed to a little art show, mostly photography, in Encinitas and would I like to go. I jumped at the chance for a social outing! I met lots of people who I could not at this moment name or pick out of a line up as conversation was minimal due to the volume of the music. There was some interesting work, but mostly it was just nice to be out! When we got home we watched the newest Pride and Prejudice with a glass of wine. A very nice impromptu evening!

Breaker Breaker 4 9!

I am sitting on the much pined-for bed RIGHT NOW! It is stupendous! I was so overwhelmed with the unknowns of truck rental that I had begun to doubt. But now I have my bed AND I drove a 10 foot moving truck 80 miles round trip AND I backed it down my driveway without help. How cool am I? I have to send many, many thanks to my colleague Lori and her daughter Sarah who endured the long drive on a Friday afternoon when what we all wanted was a nap, to the bed's former owner Terry who, with his brother-in-law, painstakingly secured the bed in the truck so it wouldn't be marred in transit, and to my new roommates who all helped us unload when we got here.
I think this ends the gratuitous bed blogging.

The New Scene

I am sitting at the kitchen table of my new abode. The tile beneath my feet is cold and slightly damp in that way that everything is by the ocean. The house is a long ranch with a patio along the whole back that faces west and watches the sun set behind a hill of greenhouses every night. My room is newly painted white and I have just added a bookcase that I inherited with my job and which I spray painted white too (and not very well). The house is still and I hear only the gentle stream of traffic floating over the dry field and the occasional snort of Mochi, the house dog. He belongs to Rheanna, the roommate I'm replacing, but is staying on while she goes to Costa Rica. He doesn't speak Spanish.
My bed has not yet arrived. I finally found a helper to go get it with me tomorrow. Last night I slept on Jennie's sheepskin rug, piled onto a camping mat, covered with a few blankets. I am officially too old to sleep on the floor. Tonight Heather has offered her air mattress which I will gladly enjoy! What bliss it will be to a) sleep on a mattress and b) own said mattress! I have never in my adult life owned the bed I slept on.
I sense that despite all the change I've been through, more change is just around the corner. In the past week two well-loved pairs of pajama pants ripped down the front when I made apparently awkward stretches. I think they just wanted to be reborn as a quilt or something. They had both been around since the 90's.
Now Mochi is growling ominously at the window. If I disappear or am murdered, ask him about it. Only don't ask in Spanish.