Life of Wry

Hung out today at REI.

Bought some funny mittens, an even funnier hat, and–this was the point of the trip in the first place–exchanged last year’s evil boots for a new pair… a pair of boots I will probably sleep in for the next four weeks to make sure they’re absolutely trek ready.  No, I won’t do that, but I won’t make the mistake I did last summer.. actually, I didn’t make a mistake at all, I just ended up with trusty Merrill boots that should have–but didn’t–fit right and I lost four nails 10 days before the summer’s premier event–something we’d been planning for six months–the ascent of Mount Whitney.  Plus, the boots–my first high ones in about five years–dug into the backs of my legs, exacerbating already-tender tendons, making a bad situation far worse, and I ended up not wearing the damn things at all.  Instead, as readers of this blog will recall (that’s a joke, I never wrote about it in this blog), Jim cut out the backs of my old boots and I wore those–all taped up and pretty awesome looking. Worked for the entire 7 days of Yosemite hiking and totally did the trick on Whitney.

So, anyway, today I returned those nasty high tops and got new, low slung boots. Keens. This excites me no end.

Throwing in a picture of the Davis Food Coop, since that was my next stop, and both are coops.

Which is cool.

Flagpole, Central Park.  That is a blue sky.

Quiet day. A few things made the looking up list:

– it was a beautiful afternoon to watch a baseball practice

– got evacuation insurance squared away

– found a nice little Nepali phrasebook

– Compassion hit the street this weekend; bought my copy this morning

– made a good contribution to Peter’s college fund (ooh that one feels great)

– Colin Firth won the Oscar for best actor

– had sunflower seeds and licorice for dinner

 

 

Well, I know.  Unimaginative.  But Jim said my post from yesterday was so dark that I decided to swing frivolous today.

Shot from the window counter (my favorite) at Crepeville, looking out on a truly gorgeous day.  See?  No place for darkness.  Instead, commentary on lunch orders.  Jim’s is the half Fuji and iced tea (extra ice).  Mine’s the half Garden with a carrot/orange juice (heaven on earth).

Eating like a rabbit hoping to drop the winter weight before going to Nepal next month.  I’m anticipating that a 2-week trek at elevation (and not Sierra-style elevation, either) will be challenge enough.  Trying to do my tendonitis-ravaged legs a favor by eliminating some of the extra poundage.

Lunchtime conversation darkened when the subject of travel technology came up–what digital gizmos will be needed and accommodable (what, not a word? should be) while in remote Himalayan regions, or in route to and from those remote Himalayan regions.  It seems really complicated, and makes me unreasonably agitated: figuring out how or whether to use a cell phone or to take a laptop; how to send, save or upload photos; whether I should load reading and guide books on an e-reader–which would make things so simple–and so on.  How am I going to blog or update Facebook?  Is there one gadget that does it all?  Of course I realize I don’t have to do any of it.  But one can, it’s doable… and I really want to be in touch with Peter along the way.

Anyway.  A Saturday.  Pre-trip ramblings.

Davis today is on its best February behavior.  Note: Magnolia in full bloom and the periwinkle blue sky, dotted with spring-fresh clouds. This is Jim,texting while walking–the modern way–preparing to round the corner at University and 3rd.  It’s pretty out, but note the winter layers… quite cold!

Our world is just too damn devoid of privacy.  It is so full of people, and stuff, and unending clatter.  There is barely anywhere you can go where you’re alone, unseen, untracked.  Everywhere you go, everything you do, all that you write or watch or buy.. someone knows, reads, sees, or whatever.

But you can be alone in your head.  I am so immensely grateful for that.  Completely private, gloriously intimate, totally safe.  No matter what, nobody gets to go there, nobody gets to know what goes on. Your thoughts are the things that’re utterly and absolutely yours.

A funny line from Anne Lamott I came across yesterday:

“I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.”

Not to say that all private thoughts are of the awful variety (though I’ve had some doozies).  Just that it’s so perfect that we have a private place to be.

Headin’ home on a stormy, rainy afternoon after spending a good part of the day at Kaiser.  May I just say, Kaiser’s physical therapy department and its travel clinic?  Both awesome.. great staff, great resources.

We are now at T-minus 33 days… today’s CHECK list:

Make sure achilles tendons are not going to blow on 14-day trek:  CHECK

Get a bunch of shots for a bunch of scary diseases:  CHECK

Get prescriptions for unspeakable physical conditions:  CHECK

Sign on the dotted line:  CHECK

Book flights from San Francisco to Frankfort to Abu Dhabi to Kathmandu, and back:  CHECK

 

This is the messy desk of a person mildly overwhelmed, a lot excited, and more than a little conflicted.  Notes on travel itineraries, immunization requirements, flight schedules, packing lists…

A friend from the way, way back invited me (17 days ago) to join her, and her sister and another really cool gal, on a trek to Nepal.    The email conversation went something like this:

Karen: Did I tell you that I’m going to Nepal in April?!

Me: How, who, what, how long? Eager to hear!

Karen: [Provides answers to all of the above.]  Join us?

Me: [Stunned, thinks about appropriate response.] I’m going to play like that’s a real inquiry…just for a sec.  [Then asks a slew of logistical questions.]  Seriously, if it’s a toss out comment, I totally understand.  It’s not all that likely.. short notice, family obligations, but it’s not completely impossible.  And, you know, carpe diem, and all.

Karen: [Answers each and every question and uses lots of exclamation points.]  CARPE DIEM FOR SURE!!

A few more emails were exchanged and a tortured decision making process ensued.   After about a week, I responded that, no, I’d decided I would not go.  This was followed by a few more emails, hers very understanding, mine grateful for having had the opportunity to fantasize.

Another week went by.  More conversations were had (thank you Jim and you various friends, your patience is above and beyond).  More information came out about things I might or might not miss while away.

The choice to not go seemed thoughtful enough, but the reasons for it started to feel overwrought.  I felt totally guilty (of course) and projected all kinds of feelings onto others based on that guilt.  I had basically gunked the whole thing up until it had become a no win situation, instead of exactly the opposite.

Classic Peterson decision making.

Long story short, I went back to a place where both choices are fine, and decided the reasons for going were a whole lot more compelling (and exciting and wild and fabulous) than the reasons for not going.  Of course it’s a whole lot more complicated and not perfect, but, what the hell, no decisions are, right?  Just making the choice and feelin’ the love, baby!

Carpe diem for sure.

It’s becoming apparent–more and more so by the day–that we’ve entered a new era in parenting.

Today’s we’re-not-in-Kansas-anymore moment came when I returned from a morning walk to find that Peter had left the building, as it were (exhibit A, above).  He was literally nowhere to be found at 9:30 on a Tuesday morning.  Well, he was nowhere to be found in the house.  He was to be found at Rainbow City, a little sub area of Community Park, where he was meeting a bunch of friends, on this, a Tuesday, in the middle of a new school holiday week (thank you decimated state budget).  And, in fact, he’d texted me with that very information…. if I’d just look at my mobile unit thingie once in a while.

Well, none of that was cause for alarm.  Rather, I was pleased he’d gotten up relatively early, maybe even eaten some breakfast, and was off to spend his furlough day with friends, without my suggesting same.  He’d even cleared his breakfast dishes from the table and locked the front door.  He’d EVEN texted me!  All systems in good working order.

It gets better.

About an hour later, I experienced my next Exciting Parenting Moment.  I hear an impatient handling of front door hardware, followed by herd-like stomping down the hall, and a breathless announcement:

“MomIneed$30soMiaandIcangobowlingbecauseshedoesn’thaveanymoneyand

sheandJackandReedarewaitingokmomisthatok?”

She?

Well, well.  And yes, it was ok, mostly.  I gave him $25, and out the door he went–rather smiley, I couldn’t help but notice.  I hovered in the shadows trying to get a few peeks at the driveway scene, moving from room to room until I’d found the best view. (Yes, pathetic.)

(And there she was.  Definitely a girl.  On our driveway.  With Peter, Jack and Reed.  And there they were, looking, for all the world, like four kind of normal, cute, socially functional, mixed gender teenagers.)

I watched them talk and laugh and put on bike helmets.   I couldn’t quite hear the conversation, but they didn’t seem to be saying anything about how I’d been had, or about what a pushover Peter’s mom was or anything.  And then off they went.

Not to make a big deal out of this, but, you know, wow.  Junior high has ushered in a whole nuther world.. and this felt like a real out with the old moment.

 

Me: Mind if I ride in the passenger seat on the way home?

Him: You don’t want to drive?  [I always drive]

Me: No, I’d rather get a few out-the-window shots.. need something for my photo-a-day thing.

Him: Ok.

 

(Not really the stuff of great fiction, but there ya go..it was an ordinary conversation.)

You know, it’s a ten minute drive from Woodland to Davis.  I feel pretty grateful to be able to have mountains and sky and lots of open space to look at.  Especially on a day like this. Could get used to riding shotgun.

So… these are shot from the passenger seat, through the glass, going 70: Satiety Winery at Road 25A, a barn at Road 29, and a couple of shots of the Vaca hills, looking west toward Winters (and Napa and the Pacific Ocean) with trees, crops… the usual.

There are just so many things to recommend this view.  Please note the blue sky and puffy white clouds.  To our immediate left, just out of view finder range, are the Vaca hills, with a little bit of snow left from this past week of stormy weather and freezing temps. It’s really chilly in this picture, but at least it’s sunny.

Also note that Peter is on the mound… okay… you can’t quite make that out, but he pitched the first three innings of this game against the Barnstormers and did a great job (faced 11 batters in three innings; threw 29 pitches, 20 of which were strikes; struck out 2, walked none, gave up one bloopery hit over the third baseman’s head and gave up no runs… to be exact).  They won this game 6-2.  They won both games yesterday, so are ranked #1 going into tomorrow’s elimination rounds.  This is excellent for their first tournament of the year, after being off for several months.  Way to go boys!

I just love my spot behind the plate.. perfect for scorekeeping.  I’m not left handed, but can’t shoot the camera with my left hand either so–horrors–staged this.  Totally a fake action shot.

Last night, we were also witness to one of the more spectacular full moon rises I’ve even seen.  A gaspingly huge, deep orange ball that took up a sizeable portion of the horizon.. perfectly placed behind a leafless tree.  Just took your breath away.  This gorgeous sight, besides our two wins yesterday, was a real highlight.  Not a highlight was the 30-something-degree temperature.  Hilarious, however, were the parents in layers of fleece and down, wrapped in blankets, immobilized and numb.  All that made today’s sunshine so very welcome!

It’s baseball season!!  So excited.  Go Crush!

Continuing with the wet flower theme… why not?… it’s another wettish day in February–the schizophrenic transition season in Davis that is tantalizingly springy, and yet still Winter on the books.   Today, a wet and pretty calendula from the front yard.  Thought we could all use a happy flower.

At least I can.

I’m working at staying in a happy place… as the news this morning–bits of this and that posted by friends on Facebook–would threaten an otherwise pleasant Saturday morning.  Damn the news.

Started by watching California congresswoman Jackie Speier respond to a republican colleague who’d made an insulting and ignorant comment about a medical procedure he knew nothing about but doesn’t care because all he wants to do is re-illegalize any form of abortion because that’s what this republican congress is intent on doing, and they have this vendetta against Planned Parenthood so won’t rest until it’s completely defunded…  and anyway, Jackie Speier delivers this measured but very emotional 3-minute response because she couldn’t sit in the chamber and listen to that BS another second.  She was collected and respectful, though palpably charged.  Her comments were moving and her point absolutely dead on and compelling, but I also had this sick feeling that it’s futile to expect anyone to listen.  Doesn’t matter the truth.  Reason and sanity have no place here anymore.  It was a reminder about how utterly nasty and mean-spirited and politically, not humanly, motivated the legislative process is.  I know.  Duh.  But still, it’s just profoundly defeating.

Our republican buds and the Tea Party fringe also want to eliminate funding for public media, god forbid we get news from a source other than corporate, Koch brothers supported FOX.  Another battle we have no business losing.  The people have no business losing.  This is insanity.

The steady undermining and unraveling of all that is good, at least all that was fair-and-squarely agreed upon at some point, is a disgrace.  It’s dishonorable.

I want to care, I want to stand up for what’s right.  I mean, I DO care.  And, I understand it’s a game, politics are part of our grand process.  Our leaders rally the troops, the troops respond, the scores are tallied.

But nobody plays fair.  And I’m losing the stomach for politics, for the game.  That’s bad.

These people seem evermore mean-spirited, irresponsible and dangerous. And mean. And they lie.  And they’re mean.

Reminds me of a time long ago when Jim and I were talking about … actually, I don’t remember what we were talking about, but I suggested that we just ship all the nasties to their own island where they can live the way they want to live, and just leave the rest of us the eff alone.  Even better: just allow Texas to secede from the union. Why the hell not?  Everybody would be happy; they could fund their society and programs (if any) exactly the way they want to, and take care of their people (or not) exactly the way they want to.. have exactly the life they want.   With the people they want.. all homogenousy.  Comfy cozy.  We wouldn’t even have to have the conversation about who’s right, wrong, sane and not, even though that’s, well, obvious.  Just leave us to live in peace and harmony and goodwill and decency, and they can have whatever the hell they want down there.  Jim said something about the constitution, how that’s not the way it works, and I didn’t care, and said why the eff not, and we had a big argument.  One of our better ones.

That’s the way Jim is: he’s far to the left of me and can articulate it a thousand times better, and yet, he’s so reasoned and so civil and so respectful.. he actually thinks democracy works and everyone’s entitled to their own ideas.  Not me: I want to ship the crazies out.

I’m sure, if I felt like it, I could also write about the elegance of political and philosophical differences and the clever intelligence of politics well played.  Of course it’s sophisticated and fascinating and part of the human experience.

I’m not entirely naive.  Just colossally frustrated.

I listened to Mr. Obama’s budget press conference a few days ago.  Our president.   Reasoned, mature.  I remember back in the ’07s and ’08s when his fan base was all a-gaga and dazzled by his incredible articulateness, and I was like, well, yeah he can talk, he’s smart, informed, has good politics, I’m with ya, I’m for him, but I found his speech a bit halting and formulaic. I see him differently now.  I’m pretty awed.  Press conferences, unlike speeches and even debates, are better tests of one’s mastery over subjects, and show the breadth and depth of knowledge and sheer intelligence.  Obama’s responsiveness, the thoroughness of his answers, his deference and civility…  I almost cried I felt so grateful.

I am SO lining up behind him.  And Jon Stewart.  Jim Frame, too.  Intelligence, sanity, humanity.

Mmmwah.  All the way.  My people.  They keep me in my happy place.