Archives for category: Walking
whimsied time with granddaughter

Jessica and I make cardboard pug

I am a missing dingbat.  I retreated last night to desserts, and I awakened this morning, with snakes snarling and hissing on my head, a nervous tension, and just disgruntled wormy thoughts that wouldn’t even coalesce with one another.  I think that fits under missing dingbat category.

If I had a canary, it would be tempestuous, or lascivious, or frabulous, and mirror the excesses of my personality which I sometimes think goes into spillage too much.  I’d like to retreat to the desert, but instead will go for a walk, under the trees in Pasadena.

The reason for all of this.  I am in a “I’m Not Bob Challenge”.  I’m Not Bob is this wonderful man’s personal blog, (He’s a Writer’s Digest person)  and he’s helping us would-be, be, being, and all range of bloggers and writers to meet the challenge of expansion, construction too.  Each day the anonymous amongst us arise and blow out our thoughts in Twitter, i.e., “I jmp ovr mts & Valleys, and I wl nt hiss at LinkedIn”, type of thing.  Then we hook up FB pages, or simply chat, and sometimes, like today, my hands will click over the keys, which click sounds like Old Puggy’s (God rest his lardy soul) nails on linoleum at Grandma Anna’s place.

I’m becoming an old gal writer, whose voice is 35,  and I am  like a mountain goat.  It’s a saga, this trudging up the mountains of words.  Some days are tempestuous, a word in one of my CHPercolator prompts today, and one I’d use more if I were in a multisyllabic mode.  Today I feel more Germanic, almost high boots and marching because I’m frustrated by my inabilities or level of knowledge (think ankle level) on the computer.

Today I’ll stick to dingbat, and walk heavy hoofed for hopefully 5 miles, and then my ding will be danged, and tomorrow will be another day.

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Our January is grey at the moment, and cold, well California cold, but Bill and I are over our colds, and i am back walking (moving the muscles after 8 days of sniff, sniff, cough, cough). Friend came by and we hoofed down a hill, across a long residential street, picture perfect, winding street, green lawns, trees arching over the street, and me with my coughdrops but no inhaler, hoofed and trudged up another hill, and then she took me for coffee and an Einstein Bros. power bagel.

I am catching up; we live in 2 room pool house, and our sliding glass door sounds like there’s a crocidile stuck in a moat, and the door bumps and bumps and jerks. I am blogging again, tra lee, tra la, and am getting new writing workshop together; 6 weeks at Ten Thousand Villages; a great fair trade store, with artifax, jewelry and stuff from all around the world. It truly feels like a spiritual place, and I think it has to be because it’s based on the Oneness of Mankind, and one feels the connection immensely.

My nephew and his wife are having a baby, and it’s a girl, and they are naming her Elizabeth, which is his mom’s – and my twin’s name, and I love it to pieces. We were known as Es and Bess when we were little, and I always called her Liz, and we sort of are polar opposites, except with the same linguistic twang and mannerisms. She’s more like my father, and I’m more like my mother, but I can tell you we always looked out for one another. I am grateful that on her death bed she turned to me and said, “I never realized, but you’ve always been there for me,” this from a twin who was often disappointed in my Faith’s beliefs, my political views, my inclusive view of life. But still we managed. Last night I had a dream, because she died about 3-4 years ago, that we are okay between one another, and I like that. The first and second year she was sick; she’d cry out at 5.30 in the morning for help, and i’d jump through the ceiling in a dash to her room.

Tomorrow, I get my hair cut. Had it so short this summer, most people liked it except for a dear Persian lady in my community who said, “I hate it,” and I laughed. I wait for months and months, and then some random day I take whatever scissor are near me, and hack at my hair over a small bathroom sink, and then sashay out to people’s comments, “Looks good.” then comes the dread day when my head, look and hair take on an attacked by the North Wind, the West Wind, East and south, War of the Winds, and my poor hair which is with me while my body gets older, just has a hissy and stands up, lays down, and in a way doesn’t play well with the rest of me.

So tomorrow i shall be shorn. Saturday a friend and I are witnesses at a Baha’i wedding, and all involved are excited.

That’s about it for now, move the muscles, drink water, and stay wonderful.

My fabulous coat with its arms around Vera in Germany

I sit in my long Jones of New York, dark camel colored coat which comes to my ankles, and type like an eager French Poodle, whose toes (my fingers) click across the floor (keyboard) in anticipation of something.

Well that’s it, anticipation, can’t sing it, but experience it. I anticipate a time this week when my hair will no longer look like it’s trying to figure out all traffic lights at once, whether to go north, south, east or west. I anticipate a cooked breakfast by myself in a few minutes, and a slug at the unwahsed dishes which rest casually in our miniscule sink. The weather flickers sun, and then clouds, and cold is still present, which is good because I need to hoof down a long hill, up a few slow trails of sidewalks, I’m urbanized after all, and throw a week’s worth of holidays, colds, no moving muscles into an invisible trash bin which I might dub Goodbye 2010.

Went to grocery store, so cold, I left, and went to Fresh and Easy. I find I crave fresh fruit and veggies. This is almost a miracle, and I hear my own personal oratorio burst through light filtered skies singing in praise of my insatient soul which wants to cast off her insatiate wants, trills, frills and needs, and be basic and moderate and healthy.

Last year got me in that direction, and yesterday I bought several sizes smaller slacks/trousers/pants; whaddya call those things these day.

I am still a computer nudnick but working on it; a writing class starts, Courage to Write next week in the basement of Ten Thousand Villages, an I’m just finishing up on it, and will garner eclectic objects that make noise, are visual, or just say, “Hi I’m an object d’art or d’ump or d’utility,” and “Would you care to write of me in tripplingly on the tongue prose.”

I’ll probably wear my Africa earrings, my Soviet Army Belt (real) and who knows what else. i love teaching, and i am not filled with myself, as I find I go into some zone and stuff flows out.

Okay, that’s today, and i’ve only had a banana; this will not do. Ta ta for now, and glorious days filled with spiritual meaning, and wishes for all of us to get through grunge and grudge alike, and see our interconnectedness.

One more thing: gratitude of the highest order for my wonderful family and for all friends old and many new whom I can gave upon with wonder.




Friday, March 27, 2009 – Bill and I took a vakashun day; saw SlumDogMillionaire at local theatre ($2.00) a ticket for matinees, grabbed a sandwich at Corner Bakery, walked. beautiful.

Attaching some pictures of Chico in March, and we’ll go back up April 1st, Wed for 3 weeks and then hopefully down for a while. way to look thin: stand pressed against huge tree; it’s bigger than me; whaddya know.


We leave Chico Wednesday, but daily we have walked Bidwell Park, where today a young deer ran by us, in front of us, beautiful. Hopefully I can post some images.

Taking a course through Wilmette Institute. I was hesitant, but it’s great as they encourage comments re imagry in the Writings. Reading Tablets of the Divine Plan, and various letters from the Universal House of Justice. Bill has hepatitis, we think caused by a bad sandwich, obtained unbelievably from a hospital cafeteria where he went to grab a bite as Sue and Ralph and I sat upstairs in an emergency room to get Sue admitted and also people had square plastic buckets to urp in and it was unbelievable; but we are relieved, it is not a blood disease.

Just finished Wake-Up Call Kirstren Breitweiser, one of the 9/11 widows. she had been Republican and the book details the journey and struggle a small group of 911 widows incurred. The writing is intelligent, honest, and very good. It was quite insightful.

John called from Haifa; he said a prayer for Bill at Bahji; had coffee with Amelia and then violetta joined us; i went home to check on bill. I walked two miles today; hooray; violetta came by; now have to stop nd study and hopefully get a netflix dvd to view in an hour or so. Soccer game of Jessica’s tomorrow; Nick came by with Border’s card gift and a card for Bill on his birthday; wow, so sweet!
He will pick me up at 8.15 so I can go see Jessica play soccer! hooray

… Thus shall a sorry gnat become an eagle in the fulness of his strength, and a feeble sparrow change to a royal falcon in …

I fell in love with that quote years ago, and in fact, I laughed out loud when I read it, and said to myself, “That’s it! I’m a sorry gnat,” and today I can say I am the happiest Sorry Gnat. email from David re Melanie who is on second part of presenting modules of her curriculum in Africa, and then she goes to Haifa for a brief visit. It turns out Johnnie will be leaving for Haifa next Wednesday and I gave Dave his information to tell Melanie and will tell Johnnie also. Two of my soul friends will meet. Hooray!

We walked second day in a row along the paths of Bidwell Park. Some days you see deer, not today, tho Bill said he saw 2 vultures. Some trees knocked down, huge ones, and there’s a feathery lack of care over the whole scene so we can appreciate it in its blowsy nature look, not like the clipped manicured paths and surroundings in urban areas. It fills us, me and Bill, and we have to get back in shape. Walking with very low blood pressure mine (so as not to stress my aortic valve) feels somewhat like moving a truck up hill slowly, but i am sure things will get better. we are with sue and ralph, our dear dear friends, frail and into the final frontier of agedom, and valient; a good example. We will toot downtown and go to one of the best used bookstores around! If i find any good images, I’ll put em up.

A week of intensity. A writing group member experiences loss, someone dear or more than someone dear struggles. It seemed as if 90% of my hang-out-love-em-to-pieces was experiencing struggles of the push-a-rock-up-the-mountain kind last week. Sunday, today, air clear, we are off to see Jan from New York, with whom we rendezvous once a year in some coffee house and motor mouth about life. Then we go to a reptile place in Huntington Beach for Jessica, our granddaughter’s birthday,” oh be still my heart. My heart skips rope at the thought of doing so.

Friday night, we went to Kathy’s house, and she deals with conflict resolution and arbitration in her work world at the Western Justice Center. She hosted a Devotional for Racial Unity, and her oak floored apartment, was lit with small candles; two gemoetric clear vases filled with flowers sat like bookends on the coffee table, and across the back of her white couch were stewn tiny little red petals of Chrysanthenums, and there was more. We had a great group, all younger than Bill and I. Konjit is from Ethiopia, Kathy from Trinidad, Violetta from the Congo, and recently from Paris, Laura, also from Western Justice, Latino, said a prayer in Spanish, David, from China, me from Boston, Bill from western New York. Did I miss anyone, yes, John, born here, first generation Persian-American. Laughter and intense conversations vaulted the walls, and I thought, “If we all held race unity devotionals around the city, wouldn’t it be a different city, a beginning, a tilling of the hard earth of hurt and misinformation.” Oops; news from Cardiologist; heart valve good for another 25 years on Earth’s great big track; I have to adjust to new meds which keep my blood pressure slightly above lying still moth, barely breathing, but that’s nothin!

Kathy and Laura are friends of the Faith, and I was so touched by Kathy’s offering. We have begun walking together and as soon as I can really hoof 3 miles, will be back on soon.

Saw a friend in the hospital; older, soo beautiful, the way her white hair swept off her face, a tiny little thing, needs someone to stay with her at home, day and night, but she’ll recover!

Piece de resistance, Jim took Bill, myself out to dinner to join John at Parkside Grill, and I had a wonderful fish, as did Bill, topped with flowers, and felt, if i were to have a last meal, “I’d choose this.”

The theme of Children of the Half Light played out a lot this week, and it first came up when we were fortunate to hang out with Rod, and we really are on the crust of change. “The world’s equilibrium” has been “upset” by the emergence of this new order, and I think, “you bet your sweet bippy it has,” and I am also on the theme of our tests, personal, perhaps collective (if it works on one level…) are divine calibrated, not from a punitive God. I have found that whatever darkness i have to face and go through, there is some light or blessing, or insight at the end, and I emerge, deeper, more carved out; a barnacle or two off my soul, and so it is i suspect for a lot of us.

okay enough for now; did I mention that Kathy has mud pie and i ate a hefty piece?
oh dear….tomorrow is another day!