Emancipation transportation

Amsterdam. April 29, 2017

Susan B. Anthony said that the bicycle did more to emancipate women than any other single thing. The bicycle was linked in the psyches of women at that time as a symbol of practical emancipation. Women could go places, wear their skirts shorter to manage the bicycle, and be independent.  ~ Susan Vreeland

Me asking for help

A few days ago I posted about getting arrested and jailed with the young people in our local Sunrise Movement hub. I took the post down when I realized it might somehow be used against me in court. Today I’m back with a link to our GoFundMe page for legal costs.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/urgent-legal-fees-needed-for-co-youth-activists

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

Please don’t feel obligated to donate, but I thank you in advance if you do throw a few dollars our way. And if you see fit to amplify the message in your social media, I also thank you.

Solidarity!

Heart with song

December 16, 2019

The very idea of a bird is a symbol and a suggestion to the poet. A bird seems to be at the top of the scale, so vehement and intense is his life, large-brained, large-lunged, hot, ecstatic, his frame charged with buoyancy and his heart with song.
~ John Burroughs

Solidarity, old dude!

Wildebeest made this paper mache sculpture in elementary school and it sat in our storage room for years. I finally cleaned out said storage room this summer and took a photo before disposing of the body. I texted the photo to Wildebeest.

Me: Cleaning out storage room. Saying goodbye to your pirate!
Wildebeest: That’s just horrifying.
Me: The pirate? Or saying goodbye?
Wildebeest: The pirate. Get rid of it ASAP.

Now I’m kinda wishing the sad, old pirate was around to commiserate. I think he’d understand.

Blurred masterpiece

I went in search of a quotation, thinking I’d find one about how days can truly feel as if they passed in a blur. Instead, I found something much better. A quote that makes me laugh:

Western Scrub Jay. Dec 8, 2017

Photography is painting with light! The blurs, the spots, those are errors! But the errors are part of it, they give it poetry and turn it into painting. And for that you need as bad a camera as possible! If you want to be famous, you have to do whatever you’re doing worse than anyone else in the whole world. ~ Miroslav Tichy

 

I’m pretty sure I achieved that last line. Well, except for the fame part.

No translation necessary

Adult entertainment store. Uppsala, Sweden. May 4, 2017.

I’m a bit slow on the uptake today. I was thinking this image was perfect for Wordless Wednesday, until I realized the whole point of this photo was the word. That one, silly word. LUSTGARDEN. Say it with me: LUSTGARDEN. Wasn’t that fun?**

Anyway, I’m posting it because it all makes me laugh. Take that, Wednesday! I’m that kinda rebel!

**Oops. I checked a pronunciation site and apparently I’m pronouncing it incorrectly. It isn’t, as I thought and hoped, looostgarden. Darn.

Letting go

Lilies letting go, Amsterdam. April 29, 2017.

I just returned home after my first Trager session in 5+ years. Let’s just say I’m waaaaay relaxed. Good thing I already took care of today’s must-do list because now I’m off to put on my jammie pants and melt onto the couch.

Just breathe

Blue Flax in raised patio bed. May 17, 2018.

Nothing profound, nothing insightful or educational.

Just me posting a blue flax, hoping the image brings a moment of calm in these very rough waters.

Celebrate, honor, and protect

When my friend Laura tipped me off to today’s significance, National Bird Day, I went in search of an appropriate bird photo. Oops. I could look at bird photos for a looong time. So many beauties to choose from. I forced myself to make a decision and settled on this dapper Blue Jay.

Clearwater, Florida. May 3, 2019

Birds are the canaries in the climate change coal-mine. Today and every day, I celebrate their existence. I can’t fathom a world without them. We must make big changes and quickly. #GreenNewDeal

#Caturday: This is a stickup!

Marcel. December 28, 2017

Just to be clear, the only weapons Marcel has in that box are claws, teeth, and a whole lot of tangled ribbon. Your wallets are safe.

On the other hand, he does drool. A lot. So to be on the safe/dry side, you might want to back away slowly . . .

Hoopy New Year!

It’s the last day of 2019 and the final day of the decade, which feels like an awful lot of pressure. What exactly have I accomplished in that time?

I quickly realized that contemplating this past year and the previous nine years was not morale-boosting if I only focused on my quest for traditional publication of my novels. So. I shifted my gaze to another aspect of my life.

Self-portrait, December 31, 2019.

I just went through my calendar and added up all my 2019 hoop-dancing sessions. And you know what? I hooped for 1,162 minutes this year (and there’s still time to add more today)! All those minutes translate to just over 19 hours of hoop-dancing this year. Nineteen hours of me dancing, whether I felt like it or not, knowing I always, always feel better after a hoop session. I didn’t sell the novel about my beloved character Poppy Valentine this year, but I danced myself through that disappointment (and the overall fog of hard-times-on-the-planet) and drafted another book.

Hoop-dancing and drafting? Not too shabby. Turns out I did accomplish a few things in 2019.

Happy New Year to everyone! May we all keep dancing in 2020!

Wildebeest walks the walk

Victory!

Last Friday,  Wildebeest took his final official stroll at Fort Lewis College. In addition to my pride and excitement on his behalf, the whole thing really was a fun experience. The ceremony was held in the campus gymnasium, and people in the chairs and bleachers were fired up! Being surrounded by so many happy-happy people was nice.

Way to go, son o’ mine!

 

Gratitude x 3 = Celebration

Yesterday at 5:45 pm I realized I hadn’t seen my indoor cat, Marcel, in hours. Zippy, Zebu, and I spent the next several hours in the cold and dark, calling to Marcel who goes silent when afraid. We eventually quit and went to bed to toss and turn, trying in vain to forget how cold it was outside. At 6:30 this morning, Zippy (again) checked the garage we’d left open four inches. This time, Marcel was curled up in the cat bed Zebu had put on top of the recyling bin. SO GRATEFUL.

Five minutes ago, I finished writing the first draft of my new middle-grade novel. It clocks in at 42,793 words and is a whole lot of talking heads and not a whole lot of description, which means it’s kinda skeletal. But I’d hoped to finish by the end of today and, despite my lack of sleep (see Above), I did it! Will I cringe when I read the draft in a couple weeks? Possibly. But there’s no revision without a first draft, baby. Again, I AM SO GRATEFUL.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Tomorrow morning Zippy, Zebu, Wildebeest’s childhood friend (Kyle C), and I are driving to Durango, CO, where Wildebeest lives. His graduation ceremony is on Friday and we’ll be there to witness that incredible milestone. Wildebeest was an avid student until he hit middle school and then had some bad “learning” experiences that completely turned him off school. His was an on-again-off-again college journey and he laments being such an “old graduate,” but I was also 26 when I graduated college (and look how well I turned out!) I’m proud of my tenacious son and GRATEFUL we’ll be there to witness his accomplishment.

Agile dining

December 16, 2019

In dreams, anything can be anything, and everybody can do. We can fly, we can turn upside down, we can transform into anything.      ~ Twyla Tharp

I’ll take a pass on transforming into this squirrel. One, she hangs upside to eat and, two, she eats suet which is made with all sorts of stuff I avoid except on behalf of birds.

That’s right…birds. Not squirrels. Can someone please let her know the squirrel food’s on the back fence?

Sunday Confessional: a toast to comfort food

Photo by Buenosia Carol from Pexels

I’ve been leaning on comfort food more than usual these days. And I guess it’s time to admit that my dalliances with sourdough toast and strawberry jam have become a daily thing. There might be a day here or there in which I don’t toast my bread and eat it too, but more often than not, I indulge in that crunchy, sweet comfort food.

The best part? I’m completely at peace with my newly acquired discipline.