Life of Wry

I love Mother’s Day.. as it gives me sort of an open invitation to immerse myself in thoughts of 1) mom and 2) being a mom to Peter. Jim gave me a warm start to the day with a bouquet of flowers from our garden and a card that expressed the realization that our role as parents has really changed, but we’re still here and still loving on our kiddo.

From our garden!

Peter called this afternoon and we talked for 2 hours and 22 minutes. Yep. We covered a lot of great territory, all good, all interesting. I just can’t tell you.

I posted whole bunches of photos on FB, so I won’t do that here. Instead, I’ll post a few from a walk I took myself on… 🙂 All down at the creek… (I think my phone is stuck in some aurora settings from last night.. most of my photos today came out fuzzy, like it couldn’t figure out what to focus on.. but I’m posting them anyway (just take off your glasses and pretend they’re sharp).

The annual Whole Earth Festival opted to move its substantial operation to the IM Field, as the students have set up a pro-Palestinian encampment on the Quad.

My response to this is: what an extraordinarily generous move on the part of WEF. There is no shade on the IM field. The temps are in the 90s this weekend. Thousands of folks are grumpy and overheated. Vendors are suffering under their unshaded pop-ups. It’s a very unpleasant place to listen to music and picnic.

I get it, what are you going to do.. clear them out? I generally support the students in their right to protest. And there they are, plunked on the Quad. But I’m also annoyed. I think a huge part of my annoyance is rank fear that there is building momentum for an unstoppable freight train of discontent that will lead to the loss of the youth vote. Which matters on so many levels. I’m annoyed that the issue has become an oversimplified binary choice.. you’re either pro-Palestinian or pro-Israel. The nuance of history and complexity seems lost. And with that oversimplification comes anger at Biden for a walk on the tightrope that is not satisfying their demands. And their demands are so .. I don’t know.. uninformed? Unhelpful? Uncompromising?

The Quad was quiet this morning as music echoed over on the IM field.

And yeah.. that sign says, “COP WATCH ZONE, WE HATE YOU.”

Drove to Santa Rosa yesterday to have lunch with Judy who was spending a week in the wine country for a change of pace/scenery (with Jon of course, but also with her son/DIL/grandson, who are beyond adorable). It was worth the drive over, even as the normally 90-minute drive turned into a 2-hr drive in one direction and a 3-hr drive on the way home. Hello Friday gridlock.

The advantage of Friday gridlock, however, is lots of time to sit and take pictures out the window… this swath of California is one of my favorites, especially in the Spring.

This is why…

Hwy 37 along the northern edge of the Bay…

Ever-pastoral Lakeville Rd…

Along Hwy 12 through Sonoma Valley…

The morning started when my alarm went off at 5:00am. I then spent two+ hours in the bathroom dealing with this stuff …

I was completing a process that had begun last night. I was to drink a whole gallon of lemon-sweetened, laxative-infused syrupy water (one cup every 15 minutes) over the course of 4 hours — two hours last night, and two this morning. The regimen also included a couple of Rx items (a softener and something to address all the gas).

So.. you do all that, and voila!… you’re as clean as a whistle and ready for a camera to be inserted into the netherworld of your bowels… a camera that will offer up-close (and ever so personal) views of the walls of your colon hoping not to find anything too scary. Kind of a search and destroy mission… looking for polyps and, if found, removing them for lab analysis. I’ll learn in about a week if I have anything to worry about.

It seemed very appropriate that I spent my two hours this morning (tethered to the bathroom) watching the trump-hush-money-to-cover-up-an-affair-with-a-porn-star-so-he-could-win-an-election-fraud trial.

Both disgusting endeavors.

Haven’t had jello since, oh… maybe the last time I had a colonoscopy… maybe 20 years ago. It’s time, don’t you think? (For the jello, not the procedure!)

Our Tower of Jewels fell down this week. Last week, it was regal.. standing tall and proud, towering over the other wildflowers in our front yard.

From the googles:

“The amazing biennial can grow from 5 to 8 feet tall and is coated in the second year with brilliant pink flowers. If sheer size doesn’t impress you, the silvery foliage and prominent anthers give the flowers and foliage a sparkle when sunlight hits them….  Echium tower of jewels starts its first year of life as a grayish to silver rosette set low to the ground. In the second year, it produces a tall, thick flower spire with slightly ragged silver foliage below. The spire bursts with cerise to salmon pink-cupped flowers arranged in rows upon rows. Each of the nearly one hundred blooms have white anthers reaching out from the throat of the flower.”

I’ve read that they die after their second year bloom, but set enough seeds to ensure another in its place the following year.

If ours hadn’t fallen down, it would look like one of these:

Attended such a worthwhile talk tonight! Davis native and international rock climbing legend Beth Rodden (44) (who is also famous for the dramatic story of having been kidnapped in Kyrgyzstan while big-wall climbing with three other young climbers 24 years ago) was interviewed about her new book, “A Light Through the Cracks.” Holly (from Avid Reader) did the interview and asked exceptionally thoughtful questions. Their conversation didn’t dwell on the details of the Kyrgyzstan kidnapping per se, but did address its impact on Beth’s life. They talked about rock climbing, marriage, divorce, parenting.. and especially trauma… and the journey of recovery. All truly fascinating.

Ran into Ann L afterward. She asked, “is your cup full?” Me: “So full.”

I have another book to add to the stack. Can’t wait to read it. (Then I’m going to give it to Peter for his birthday.)

Art. Yet another thing we — as parents — failed to instill in Peter. We didn’t give him siblings, or a dog… or a pool, or a cul-de-sac!

[Hangs head.]

Jim and I each have our creative pursuits and outlets (such as they are), but we didn’t go very far down the road of encouraging Peter’s artistic development. He was never much interested, frankly, but maybe we could have modeled more, or guided him more? Well… I’ll defend myself by saying he had a full childhood with lots of activities and, in my heart of hearts, I don’t believe he suffered. (And I’m sure, if I tried, I’d find lots of examples of us introducing him to art or music (in which he did partake), or other forms of creative expression (does designing his own bedroom count?).

Well… I can see this could be a long blog post, and it’s late, so I’ll just get to the photo I wanted to post.

This is a picture Maya sent to Jim a couple days ago with the lead in, “Peter does art!”

She’s clearly having some very positive influences on our boy. She’s very arty. She makes time for art in her daily life (she’s been taking ceramic classes lately, she loves fashion, she loves building things, she’s an architect after all). And … it looks like some of that is rubbing off on P.

A sweet development.

I mean…

Diana, who’ll be growing into those shoes in no time.

Ten eggs! And separated, to boot! Special flour, special sugar, and ever so fussy! I won’t know until Thursday — Betsy’s birthday — whether it actually came out, but it was quite an undertaking.

Beat until just stiff peaks form….

Made it into the oven.. in our new tube pan. Must NOT use a bundt pan…

And.. it looks pretty good…

Like I said… fussy!