I haven't blogged about this in quite some time. But I'm going to be gathering with the girls from the East Side of Somewhere on February the 26th, and already there's a freshness in the air, a spring in my step, and "Perfect lip gloss" has migrated onto my shopping list. I have to jog my memory to remember what not to wear. Was it the V-neck or the high waist? The cuffed pant or the shirt with rouching? Should my belt and shoes match? Damn. Last time I met up with them I smelled like flowers for 3 days. It was as if a halo of geraniums settled in around my neckline and every time I rotated or flexed my cervical spine I was reminded of how these women just smell good.

They get free flights of wine with a wink of an eye.
When I'm with them, people bring pillows and arm rests and see to it that the temperature is just right. Hair is voluminous and shiny, pores are tight. I'm reminded that I should actually wear a medium and not an extra large and that layering is technology. An old friend I'd forgotten about. I leave feeling like I own stock in Fabulous.

I'll be sure to document the event.

my kind of romance

Scene:
Josh Groban spinning. Max, Clara, Zoe and I are dancing around in interpretive free form dance. Sharing my special brand of crazy with them, that is better medicated by spontaneous interpretive dance than lithium, although some might disagree, and really, I drive my husband crazy.
Back to our dance. I'm a butterfly, they are gremlins nipping at my heels as I unfold from cocoon to monarch butterfly. Chasing me all over the obstacle course that is our living space. Leaping across laundry in a single bound. I pass Dave just as my twirling begins to unfold into it's full expression, joy radiating from every limb of my body and every lobe of my brain. Feeling the fullness of life and all the joy that exists within it.

Dave shoots me a stern look as I hold this pose, which emanates from the womb of the earth mother & grunts: "Are you having a seizure?"

I unfold and crumple into laughter.

My kind of romance.

Namaste

"Bear your heart like a torch before you and the darkness shall be light, the stillness the dancing."

T.S. Eliot

magic mechanics and the power of intention

Imagine a kitchen cabinet completely disorganized with contents perched precariously on top of one another. Topsy turvy. You have one more smallish mixing bowl that needs to find a place so that at least, externally, kitchen looks highly organized for family gathering.

Question:Is it possible, with great speed, eyes clothes, head tucked to: openthecabinetshovethebowlinandshutitagain without sustaining injury?

The answer is sweet.
It is Yes.

And if you are, like myself, a believer in magic mechanics and the power of intention, you, like me, KNOW, that this achievement has as much to do with how tightly the eyes are sealed shut, as well as the degree to which you KNOW this will work. And the success in the telling of this important story, has as much to do with the number of commas used, as it does content.

And with that.

Namaste.

Presidents and Puppies

Cruising through Tim Horton's drive-thru for my Chai fix. Transaction complete.

Clara: "Mommy, I don't want to hand out Tea when I grow up - IT'S TOO HARD"
Me: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Clara: "President!"

Then in another form of pure sweetness, Clara asks me:
"Mommy how do you spell Trader Joes?"
I spell it, ask why, and she tells me she needs to remember how to get there so she can go to "Rumford Pets" next door to get the baby Chihuahua next week.

So quickly she forgets. Why it was just last week that we witnessed the untimely death of a squirrel that ran into our house via Oola our boxer. A full size red squirrel! And this is a baby mini Chihuahua!

Just counted 18 coffee mugs in my cabinet.
There are only 2 coffee/tea drinkers in this house.

OK, I'm done thinking now.

Namaste

I'd stick to my goal of posting something charming, or more likely sarcastic, or even more likely littered with commas, every few days, but I'm feeling a bit wonky.
Mentally ill. Rest of the group has been sick on and off for 2 weeks. Coughing all night, coughing all day. If barfing were a celebration, I'd say Wednesday night was masquerading as the fourth of July.

In the converse, I'm feeling especially chipper about my kitchen cabinets! They've been a beacon of purity in the midst of the infestation! And while Dave did NOT notice on his own, once I penetrated the wax in his ears with my resonating melodic voice, there was a glimmer of acknowledgement. Wiping down the cabinets is now something I've become fairly obsessed with. I wipe several down daily now, and yes I am slightly Bi-polar. And I end sentences with prepositions.

Namaste.

Microbiotica

For the first time in 5 years I scrubbed all my kitchen cabinets.

It was disgusting and if this is something normal people do regularly, I'd rather not know. Should you find yourself recoiling in horror, center yourself and contemplate the indigenous microbiotica crawling all over your skin 24/7.
My feeling is that at the end of my life, if I spent the 2 monthly hours required to stay on top of this situation, over the course of oh, say, 35 years, I'll have spent in excess of 4,680 hours on this task. I'd rather log that time in sleeping or exercising or drinking, or talking to Rosana on the phone. Thats about 56,000 5' headstands which is a more certain Nirvana than the flicker of recognition I'll receive for this menial task. And with 20/40 vision and not a pair of specs to be found, I'm not going to notice.

So if my husband, upstairs, asunder with man-cold, doesn't notice my efforts, rest assure I will never do this again. To top it off, now I'm afflicted with carpal and mental tunnel syndrome. And yes, I enjoy commas.

Namaste.

I just decided that dipping oil and sourdough bread a yummy breakfast make.

And also, after having had little to no interest in a nightly glass of red wine, I'm now announcing to you all (Hi Gina!) that I am entering back into a wine phase.
*Coincidentally, the kids have all been home sick for 4 days.

*The index of coincidence can be used to analyze whether two events are related. A coincidence does not prove a relationship, but related events may be expected to have a higher index of coincidence. From a statistical perspective, coincidences are inevitable and often less remarkable than they may appear intuitively.

I want to be VERY VERY VERY HOT

Scene:

Clara sleeping, Max at Home Depot, Me and Zoe dancing formlessly with abandon in the kitchen
Spinning: High school musical MEGAMIX full version on repeat.
I'm loving this dance party as much as Zoe. All limbs flailing, hamstrings open from yoga, highest kicks ever. Zoe breaking out in spins on the floor. Suddenly Zoe stops, and looks at me with her serious, I'm 4 going on 16 face and shares her secret: "mommy i want to be very very very HOT when I grow up."
Me: "Zoe, what does that mean."
Zoe: "IT MEANS VERY VERY VERY BEAUTIFUL!"
Me: (after professing how beautiful she is) "Where did you hear about this?"
Zoe: "Max"

Egads!

The Making of Shark Teeth

Hmmm. Haven't been here in a while. Perhaps redecorating will make this more appealing. Hello blogger? Better templates please!

News:

Max. 7.97 years of age. Enjoyable & charming and brilliant most of the time. Except for 95% of the time where he demonstrates that he is able to escalate Clara's emotions to fever pitch in a single bound. Exercises that skill regularly. If I wasn't a yogi, I'd be a druggie.

Clara continues to inspect produce and grains for imperfections. And by imperfections I mean the slightest spot on an apple and by slightest spot I mean a mark the size of an atom that you would never see in a million years unless you have a jewelers glass implanted in your cornea like Clara. And don't even talk to me about a single visible grain in a slice of whole wheat bread. I spend more time than I care to admit inspecting bread at market to try and avoid the grain reflex. Sure, I could just make her eat it. Or refuse to give her something else with the idea that at some point she'll be hungry enough to eat it. You go ahead and try that. Be prepared to sop up the puddle of sadness that will be Clara. And while your at it, have the fire extinguisher at the ready. Because soon she will tire of this emotion and upgrade to anger and redemption. I"ll meet you at the bread aisle. Bring your magnifying glass.

Then there's the issue of smell. She wont sit at the table with us if were eating anything that has an odor to it. And by odor, that means anything with ingredients in it, that has been cooked long enough to release the flavor. I, along with my colleagues, are cultivating a whole new mental syndrome. PTSD surrounding the years of utter rejection at the family dinner table. I have to talk myself off a ledge every time I hunker down in the kitchen to find a well balanced meal that will satisfy.

Next topic: Thumb Sucking And The Making Of Shark Teeth. I'm now left to face the fact that I "let" (as if I had any choice) Clara suck her thumb long enough that while straight, all of her teeth slightly angle forward. Forward enough that a new set of sneaky adult teeth are cropping up, slightly inset from the ones sticking out in the front row. 2 rows. Enough contact to loosen the baby teeth, but not enough to push them out. But just enough to make eating anything solid nearly impossible.

Finally: In between mealtimes, Clara prances about spreading sunshine. In a good moment, able to outshine the sun on a blazing hot summer day! Able to belt out show tunes like she's in a smoky blues cafe! It's like a roller coaster ride! Bring cotton candy!


Zoe: Quite serious. 4 going on 25. Far too sophisticated for all things age appropriate. Suffers daily when the bus takes Max and Clara off. "I WANT TO GO". Whenever we go somewhere with other children her age, she exclaims 'THIS IS FOR BABIES!'. It nearly kills her that she won't be in kindergarten until 2010, because life at home is too boring! As a September baby, I fully expect her to try and sneak into 2nd grade with Clara as she's so over baby stuff like the alphabet and numbers and childhood in general. I'm afraid I'm going to have to fish her eyes out of her forehead from all the rolling.

Zoe feels as strongly about her wardrobe as Clara feels about her produce and grains. The shirt or dress "HAS TO HAVE A DESIGN ON IT!" I could send Clara off to school in potato sack. Zoe's needs are strong yet simple. She just wants that great outfit that she wore yesterday, that is now in the washing machine, sopping wet. She has an uncanny ability to know what is unavailable, and to then desire that more than anything. And I have the uncanny ability to slip off into another dimension. Yes, I'm talking about an out of body experience. I'll come back someday. LIke defintely next week when Obama is inaugurated.

The End.

Happy Holidays!

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/i5pU0xfuuI8HEI3iqJIK

NUCULAR

After having heard Bush say it for years, and now Palin chirping in, I'm starting to think the correct pronunciation is Nucular. HELLO NUCLEAR!
Perhaps Iraq does have a program, they are just capitalizing on the inability of our Leader to pronounce it correctly. 10 years from now, they'll say "OH YOU MEANT NUCLEAR!"

I'm off to go participate in some nucular family bonding.

Namaste.

Just made Zucchini bread with the kids, which is fun, but this is how my brain works:


- Children plucked zucchini fresh from our own garden (fresh air and outdoor education requirements - check)
- Children gathered various cooking utensils & measured out ingredients for baking (daily math, sorting exposure & fine motor skills development - check)
- Cultivating the children's ability to work together - check
- Used whole wheat flour, brown rice syrup vs. white flour and sugar. (Teaching the children about healthy choices - check.)

Living out the dream of a Rockstar mom for at least 60 minutes - check

FLYING HIGH

Emotionally soaring! Flying on the wings of change!

Kitchen is completely dismantled. Every tool, utensil, pan and perishable from every nook and cranny laid out on all available counter and floor space.

Mission: Re-org sponsored by total O.C.D, Harpoon IPA, my IPOD and the ever present support of other humans bound by the constant desire for, yet never actualized state of, complete home organization. The silent war being played out in homes across america 24/7. Like a heartbeat emanating from the center of the Earth.

Dave's hiding, in horror, while the magic unfolds.

Stories

With all the free time on our hands, I've been forced to cultivate several new and exciting activities to distract Max, Clara and Zoe from what appears to be a DNA directive. DRIVE EACH OTHER INSANE VIA VARIOUS MIND NUMBING TACTICS. One of the most successful activities is when I call out "ONCE UPON A TIME!" and we all race to the computer and write stories. They each dictate a line and then afterwards I soften the edges. I haven't had to edit much, I think all the Grimms Fairy Tales have sunk in and some skills are developing here!

Short Story#1:

Once upon a time there was a girl dragon, named Pinktonk. She was sipping a yummy drink made out of mud. All of a sudden, out popped a warthog! Then out popped a big bunny! The bunny farted.
A boy was walking along in the woods and he said “What is that stinky smell?” He saw the dragon Pinktonk and asked her to dance and share the yummy drink. Then the dragon asked the boy to marry her. The boy thought to himself, “Should I really marry this dragon?” She’s drinking mud & I bet I’ll have to take a bath in a swamp if we are to be married. That is not the life for me.
On the boy walked.
The boy walked on.
Suddenly a giant appeared, and said “I’ll grind your guts to make my bread and I’ll squeeze your liver to make my jelly”.
The boy squealed, “PLEASE EAT ME! THERE IS A MOSQITUO BITING MY ARM AND I WISH TO LIVE NO MORE!”
The Giant was astonished and ran away.
The boy walked on and found a little puppy. Said the boy to the puppy, “If I take you with me, I’ll have to give you baths which is a really big responsibility so I’m afraid I have to leave you here – good by now.”
The boy made his way home and found that he had arrived back at the dragon’s lair. The dragon was very pleased to see him again and asked, “Did you change your mind about marrying me?”
The boy said “No”, turned away and walked home. Once in his house he felt all alone. Boo Hoo. He went racing back to the dragon, Pinktonk, married her and they lived happily ever after. Swamp baths and muddy drinks weren’t so bad after all.

The End.
By Max,Clara,Zoe

THE YOGA ROOM

The Glam Zone

Well I'm heading into the Glam Zone this weekend. The East Side of Somewhere, located approximately 25 miles East of the West Side of Nowhere. Where people wear matching socks, have style and everything else that goes along with that, like, scarfs and jewelry. This means for one, that I'm going to have to go shopping and also, that I might fire up my curling iron. I'm told we'll be having some good cheap Italian eats at a VFW of sorts and when I asked what I should wear, she replied that I should dress like Italian ladies do when they go out on a Saturday nite. After careful consideration of who I will be out with, I'm not sure how to achieve a style crossover between Soprano's and Wysteria Lane, but I'm heading right to Banana Republic where they have the answers to these sorts of questions.
We're celebrating Kim's, ahem, 41st birthday. She's SEVERAL years older than me you know. And has a waistline that is SEVERAL inches smaller than mine so were even. We go back about 20 years, and between the 2 of us, this can be translated into 2 husbands, one a piece, 6 children, 240 lbs gained and lost (and that's being conservative), inebriation, lactation and the acquisition of several hundred nodules on our voice boxes. At one time, from belting out American Pie at Fraternity Parties, and now from belting out several thousand commands, on a daily basis, to 6 small children. Throw in some harmless cysts in some unfortunate locations, a kidney stone attack and some hair dye and you have 2 decades lived fully.

20 years ago we thought it was a good idea to do inverted keg stands for recreation. (Imagine handstand on keg, with tap in mouth and you get the picture.) We've spent the last 20 years evolving and now I'm thinking we might have had it right in the first place. With my inversion skills from a regular headstand practice and Kim's stamina from masters rowing participation, we're sure to SMASH our previous record of 29 seconds...

Happy Birthday Kim!

DISNEY

Back from Disney World!
While I have had to go through a bit of a crisis to admit this, if I'm being honest, I loved every minute of it! (**See below for the exception). Which is difficult for me to say with my alter Eco - ego, who prefers to tread lightly upon the earth, shop organic, practice yoga and play with wooden toys. In Disney it's sensory overload and while I'm quite sure Walt Disney world has the ecological footprint of a wooly mammoth, I've never seen Clara's eyes sparkle quite like they did on the ride Soarin', which very realistically simulated flying in a hang-glider over the coast of California. As most children and adults around me pushed back into their seats with a bit of fear, she leaned out over the edge of her seat squealing in delight, "Hello down there!" And the way Zoe blushed when she gazed up at PRincess Aurora and said "Am I a princess too and do you love me?". And the Tin Man, I mean Max, was on fire designing robots in Epcot (or as Zoe called it, Apricot). It was sweet family fun for 8 days and even the nights became sweet once Dave and I realized it was better to keep them up at the parks 2 hours past their normal bedtime, rather than torture ourselves in a one room hotel room while they inflicted emotional pain on each other as if they were spraying it out of an aerosol can.
I'm so crazy for Disney I actually considered signing up for Disney Vacation Club, signing on for a Disney Rewards Mastercard and purchasing a season's pass. The utter lunacy of this finally sunk in so I walked away un-tethered. But I do feel strongly that we'll go back annually or at least every other year. Don't even get me started on the hotel room where there are no dishes to be done, snack vending machines are in the laundry room and fairies come every day when I'm gone and clean my suite. And leave washcloths fashioned into Disney Characters along the vanity.

The exception:
**The public bathrooms, in which I spent allot of time with wee Zoe and wee Clara, left me feeling quite allot like I do after cooking poultry, which I no longer do by the way. It left me feeling infected. Completely and utterly infected with millions of parasites running about and coating my clothing and skin. And the clothing and skin of Zoe and Clara who accompanied me. Pre children, thanks to my mighty hamstrings & street smarts, I was able to maintain a completely touchless experience in the bathroom. And unless the potty critters were jumpers, I was getting out with nary a germ to be found. When I see my girls sitting on the public potty, especially when they are not in Whole Foods Market, it makes me feel like they might as well be sitting on a toilet seat made of raw poultry. And let's be honest. It's not all that clean in my house all the time. Yes I swish and swipe daily, but I"m not in the habit of using cleaning products that involve bleach. But the germs in our house are my germs. We live together everyday and have special agreements. LIke I won't destroy all of them with bleach and they agree to not populate to the extent that I am aware of them. Things seem to have been going quite nicely.
But I have no familiarity whatsoever with the germs we encounter on the foreign Orlando potties and yes, I do wipe them down and place the paper covers on them. But then I don't have systems in place to deal with the fact that the 3 of us (me, zoe and clara) are typically all in one stall at one time and with all the shuffling around in a space the size of a shoebox, I'm quite sure that every surface of each of our bodies, at one point, comes in contact with every surface of the toilet and surrounding area. There are many other things I could say about this that disgusts me, but I don't want to cast a sooty shadow on what was otherwise, a trip filled with sparkling clean good fun!
More photos to follow...

Granny?

Zoe: "Mommy I want Juice!"
Me : On task, mixing up water and juice like it's 1999
Zoe: "Go Granny, Go Granny, Go Granny!"

HUH?

Happy New Year from Max Clara and Zoe!

2006











2007
Heres hoping 2008 is filled with good clean fun!

A moment in Bedlam

Scene: Saturday morning... Clara crawling toward the family room, Max in toe, hitting her with a Christmas wrapping paper tube. Clara isn't screaming, but the repetitive thrashing motion of the wrapping paper tube pulls me from my own eternal repetitive action, of moving clothes from the washer to the dryer...

Me: "Max, stop hitting Clara!"
Max: "I'm not, I'm whipping her!"
Me: "Oh"

I'm always thrown off by the adjective quick switch. Max is aware of this, is good with words and frequently uses this technique. He knows somehow (perhaps by my dumfounded silence) that it's confusing for me when he uses synonyms. So it's true that he's not hitting her, it is a more accurate statement, based on the implement he's using that it is more of a whipping action and now somehow I'm lost in a world of comprehending that he can use synonyms accurately in a sentence and by the time I arise from the fog, the moment has passed and I've just noticed that Clara is now snapping the mouse trap open and shut and the potential of her snapping off her finger is now ranking above disciplining aforementioned buttocks whooping.

Namaste.

Christmas!

See how max has his hand on the Lego Mars Mission box, as if he were feeling the pulse of his own beating heart? Thump thump. Thump thump. It's because he is. For the life and breath of Max dwells within the heart of Lego Land. Where underwater substations and Alien space terminals abound.


See the warm glow surrounding Zoe and Clara? It's all about My Little Pony. Pinkie Pie. The most wonderful pony of them all.

Kitty on Board

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This photo perfectly exhibits what a true delight it can be to be in the company of Max. Give him a wig and a stage and you get solid gold.

Glasses courtesy of David Swanson archives. Stylin in the early 90's? not so much...

Dreamboat

Tracking and the Unraveling Of My Psyche

If anything were going to sever the tenuous hold I have on my mental well-being, it's not the sibling rivalry nor the constant requests for juice. It's the tracking. Im talking emotional tracking. I'm talking physical tracking. Children following me around, asking me over and over again for things that are out of stock or my favorite, unavailable food items containing colors like red die #3, which has been shown to cause thyroid tumors in rats & aren't I a bad mother for denying them this opportunity! Of course I can't really explain this to them or Max will start pointing at all red snacks in the cafeteria exclaiming "Alert! That item has been found to cause tumors in rodents" and then I'll have unhappy mothers tracking me too.

I can take maybe 5 minutes of this and then I start to have the distinct sensation that my brain is seeping out of my fingernails. I try and walk away from the situation and then they follow me. The little people. They follow me. Sometimes I shut the door to my bedroom, but we don't have locks, so they just open it. I lose all track of time. At some point they stop and I slowly scratch and claw my way back up into my emotional body and then we move on and I start folding laundry or take on some other mundane task that requires little of me. While I recover.

It's the holidays... my good friend sarcasm has taken up residence in my frontal lobe to help me cope with the insanity and I'm having a bad day...
I'm sure tomorrow will be lovely...

Namaste.

Event Calendar, Round 2 - Max

Day 2
I'm thrilled to report that day 2 has been a success. It looks like my threats from yesterday (that I would give the Event Calendar away) have sunk in.
Today was a success!
Gift opened by Max. Clara and Zoe in a state of acceptance and semi acceptance respectively.

The Annual Event Calendar

Every year, our magically enthusiastic and celebratory friends drop an Advent Calendar off on our doorstep so that the children can count down the days to Christmas with the daily ritual of opening a present.
With an uncharacteristic show of civility, Max Clara and Zoe lined up to pick strings and the one with the longest string was to kick the tradition off by opening the first present. The rules of engagement were discussed and happily received. "YES WE KNOW MOMMY". I explained that each child would take turns opening a gift, one per day and that there would be no trading. And if there were going to be tears by onlookers, they had to be silent tears with no vocal accompaniment. Or if they were feeling exceedingly sad, they could simply remove themselves from the situation and maintain a comfortable distance from me, of oh...say.... 5,000 nautical miles.

So it was with great optimism that I kicked off the Advent Calendar tradition and already civility has been cast aside and replaced by torment. As I sit here and write on the first day (Clara's Day), Zoe has spilled her body all over the floor in a puddle of tears, Max is wailing & repeating over and over again that the girls ALWAYS GET TO GO FIRST & Clara is prancing around waving her present like a flag of triumph. I guess it's unrealistic to think that they can manage much beyond play, pouring their own juice and using the potty. I need to STOP being so optimistic now that they are 3, 4 and 6 and START realizing that they are 3, 4 and 6.

Moving forward, I will now refer to the Advent Calendar as the EVENT Calendar and during that time, I will refer to my sweet darlings as Thing 3, Thing 4 and Thing 6.

I welcome it. Another opportunity for the children to transcend & break the code of willful DNA that Dave and I passed along to them.

First Quarter Repord Card Teacher Comments

On Max: "Max is an excellent student. He is doing well in all areas of the curriculum. He excels in reading and is reading 2 levels above the benchmark for this quarter. Max's enthusiasm for learning is contagious! He has a good inquisitive nature that helps him problem solve and excel in science. Max is a positive role model and a joy to have in the classroom."

GOOOOOOOOOOO MAX!

What I'm reading...

There really is no better way to know what my current fancy is then to know what 3 books I'm reading. I'm always reading (at least) 3 books at one time and they are currently, and in no particular order:

"Eat pray love" by Elizabeth Gilbert on the recommendation of my friend Fancy. It's going to awaken my desire to go on a year long sabatical to eat/pray & love so I may have to table that one if I start getting too ancy. Cuz GOD knows I could use a sabbatical. The only thing I know for sure at this point in my life is that the best beer out on the market is Dog Head Fish 60 minute India Pale Ale. And I bet a year of reflection would bring more generally accepted insights into the good things in life.

"Anatomy of Hatha Yoga" a 600 paged textbook that I will be navigating for the next year as I undergo the rigours of a 2nd yoga teacher training. Because as it turns out, I love teaching Yoga almost as much as I love practicing it and want to evolve my understanding of 'stuff' like bones and muscles. I tend to get more interested in evolving my sanskrit pronunciation, but it's not all about ME now. : )

"Nuture the Nature" by Michael Gurian which will definitely give me the low down on how to nuture the nature of my 3 deliciously wild offspring. And really they are not all that wild. I just want the in-fighting to simmer down a little. OK stop completely.

Namaste.

My House is Clean and I am Now Declaring it a National Treasure

My house is clean.

This is really something people.

It hasn't been this organized in a long time and I am now going to treat it as if a Supreme Being came down from on high and declared it a protected space. A space so worthy, simply because I live here and I worked so hard cleaning and organizing it for the past 5 years. I have gotten close to gaining control over my home before, but then BANG (3) back to back, 9 month set backs, I mean pregnancies. But now that Zoe is three, Clara is 4.5 and Max is 6.5 they can largely fend for themselves, freeing me up to do things like fold laundry, scrub floors and shine my kitchen sink every night before I go to bed. I peer into my dishless, shiny sink every morning and I know who is the fairest of them all. My mental well being is all wrapped up in this shiny sink situation, so don't mess. Don't leave any dishes in my sink. That's right, put them straight into the dishwasher. This, my friends, is a proteted space whereupon I can reflect and rejoice.

In fact I now patrol my entire home like a National Park Ranger. Scanning my environment for debris and checking to see if anything is running amiss, like the bathroom needing a fresh hand towel.

I have fought long and hard to reach this point. Even though this point that I have reached might only meet minimum national standards of cleanliness, for me it is the zenith. The cleanest it will ever be...

Namaste.

All blissed out, yes for sure it's a fine thang.

Well little darlings IM HOME
Re-entry has be fairly smooth with the exception of some bends at the 9am 1st grade field trip Tuesday morning.

I feel refreshed in a just been away losing sleep for for fabulous reasons like the presence of top shelf wine bars in my vicinity kind of way.

All good things are to come as a result of this wonderous getaway and I intend of refreshing and repleneshing annually with this posse of old friends in the FINE city of San Francisco. It's also my intention to make the slightly more affordable Walnut Creek (hear me universe!) my home within 3 - 5 years.

Peace out.