Bean stew

Soak local kidney beans in fresh spring water. Go to bed.

Good morning! Bring the beans to a boil, then turn off. Leave pot of beans on the stove.

Do errands. Fetch more fresh spring water. Go to the Farmer's Market for tomatoes, garlic, leeks, and beets. Have brunch with a friend. Catch up, laugh, cry a little. Order truffle scrambled eggs and rye toast, because it sounds so good. Take that first bite and remember that you don't like the taste of truffle. Chocolate ones, well yeah. But truffle salt, truffle oil, hmmm, don't care for it.

Talk and laugh with friend. A bus drops off about a hundred leaf peepers and they want your table. Wander around downtown, admire the Mt St Helens emerald obsidianite: a sparkly green synthetic glass stone.

Go home and stir the beans. Turn on the heat and simmer for an hour. Go out back to the garden and pick a bunch of kale. Plant some garlic. Back inside, add fresh tomatoes, the ones that have to be eaten right away. Add two cloves of minced garlic, a handful of chopped kale, dried hot pepper, and two pinches of dried herbs. Turn off the heat and let sit another hour. There's supper, and some lunches for the week. 

eating disorder

I taught nutrition yesterday. We watched videos about anorexia and bulimia.

It's Fluffy. I realized that she has an eating disorder.

The alarm went off this morning at 0630 and I poked my toes out of bed. Fluff chose that moment to vomit on the floor. The 2 year old hardwood hickory floor. Really? When I'm letting you out in like one minute? Yah: really. Buh-jork, heave, upchuck on the floor. Dang. Let her out, cleaned it up. Mostly grass: hmmm..

She binges on grass, then purges. My dog has bulimia.




*my apologies to those people and families who truly live with this insidious condition. I do not mean to mock or minimalize your experience. I am attempting humor, my coping strategy for a challenging life. Be well. Live long and prosper.

Reiki share

Just got home from the most wonderful Reiki share. What made it so great? The hearts, gratitude, and beauty.

I've been working at this cancer center for 3 1/2 years. The center kept growing, and this week they moved to a new space. They opened today, and this evening we had a Reiki share.

The new space? It's the top floor of an old factory. The original wooden beams in the high ceilings were covered with tar. Workmen blasted them with walnut hulls and today they gleamed smooth gold. Stone and walnut floors. The walls curve in shades of green.

The windows are enormous and the views, oh the views. We can see all over our city and our sister city. The copper onion domes of the Kora Temple shrine, the sand drip spires of the basilica, the hospital, the river, hotels, office buildings, and the trees beyond.

The Reiki practitioners at the share were beautiful people. We ranged in age from 20 to 70, multicultural, multinational, and multicontinental. Hearts were open wide, energy flowed, and laughter burbled.

I kept thinking, "Look at these wonderful people in this beautiful space. How did I get here? I am so lucky and so grateful." I kept checking in with my guides and ancestors. I tried to ground myself- but the space is so airy, so expansive, I kept floating away.

There were 13 of us. We introduced ourselves and talked about Reiki. We toured the new space, admiring the architecture and views. We discussed the techniques for sending distance Reiki. M offered a blessing. We meditated and did self-Reiki. We went around the circle and said the names of people to whom we wished to send distance Reiki.

We broke into 3 groups and went to the brand new Integrative Medicine rooms and shared Reiki. After feeling chilled I suddenly burned with heat. My hands throbbed with the energy.

We met again and said goodbye. N brought vegies from his garden and we all took some. Where are mine? They didn't make it home with me. Somewhere there are small bags of cherry tomatoes, a hot pepper, and some tart concord grapes.

I feel so lucky. How did I get here?
oh yeah, I remember.....

election ads

I hear you're tired of those election ads.

No TV: haven't seen a single one.

Am sadly lacking in the language and experience of popular culture.

the land of Oz

Got to play with a $60,000 manikin today. So fun!

Theme: The Wizard of Oz. Nursing students and a patient with right-sided weakness.
Dorothy was the nurse.
Patient's spouse was the Scarecrow.
The Wizard sat behind the curtain and controlled the manikin/patient.
Tin Man and Cowardly Lion were unruly children.

Goal: Dorothy needed to gel in, ID patient, communicate therapeutically with family, and assess patient.
The students demonstrated an unexpected talent for acting and a commitment to compassionate care.
It was a great day. 

moving

Our cancer center is moving.

What once seemed spacious is now cramped and crammed full of wigs, blankets, books, pamphlets, and desks.

The new space is on the 5th floor of an old factory. The ceilings are way up there, the windows are enormous, and the views spectacular. The gold onion domes of the Kora temple shrine: right there! The sandy spires of the basilica, the hospital, the river, and the woods beyond: all laid out in stunning detail. I walked around the exterior of the space, admiring the views. The interior is gorgeous too. Giant disc lights in the main lobby. Stone and walnut floors. Stretches of soothing green walls curve towards offices, kitchens, gardens, and massage rooms. A Reiki room too, of course.

Everywhere you look: interesting textures, sunlight, old brick, and impressive views. 

storm

Puffy pinky-gray clouds are sliding rapidly across the sky. They flash with silent lightning. Black holes open up in the clouds, but no stars are visible. The wind is hot and wet.

It's eerily quiet, except for the flapping of my deck canopy. It's being shredded by the wind. There are long rips, hanging threads, and big holes. Every few seconds the wind grabs it and it billows up and down, flaps in and out.

Through the holes in the canopy I look again at the holes in the clouds. No stars, just silent intermittent illumination. The clouds slide in a flat plane below the black bowl of sky. 

it's Friday

I'm slowing down and it feels good.

just for today

do not anger

I've been thinking about this Reiki principle recently. When I drive down Lisbon St in the afternoon, on my way home from work, other drivers weave in and out between cars, cut me off, and go through red lights. I get angry.

I don't even want to drive on that street because I feel so angry. I would take Sabattus St, but: the construction.

So it's Lisbon St and anger and I'm not supposed to get angry because I'm a highly evolved supremely spiritual Reiki practitioner. heh. I get angry.

Now what? Step back, look at it, and change the pattern. Find the opportunity. OK, how about if I realize that I can't control other drivers. Good start. What if I slow down. Maybe the aggressive driving I see in others is actually a trait of mine that I would like to change. What if I tell myself that if I slow down and chill that I am banking good karma. Ok, yeah, I could try that. Sounds like a bargain and I'm all about the bargain.

Just for today, no- wait- today is too big. Let's try the moment. Just for this moment, I will not anger. I will slow down.

Green beans

are growing faster than I can eat them, almost.

I pick them all week. Weekends I snip and steam a big pot. Maybe add some early carrots. I scoop out the hot vegies and dump them into lunch containers, containers to which I've added, in various combinations: balsamic vinegar, apple cider vinegar, Italian seasoning, hummus, hot peppers, slivers of garlic or ginger, and/or pinches of turmeric. Chill.

Lunch. I add seeds: sesame, chia, flax, and sunflower.

Meanwhile, I planted peas last month. Am waiting to see if I'll get a second crop. And there are armloads of kale out there. 

hummingbird

in my garden yesterday and today. When I first spied it, thought it was a dragonfly. Then it lit onto a lilac branch, still for two minutes. Never before saw one sit that long.

The hummingbird liked the morning glories, hibiscus, and echinacea.

sun coming through the clouds

When you open your heart to Reiki it's like the clouds parting to admit sunshine.

After a cold night and cloudy morning, the sun's rays are warmly welcomed.

he flies through the air

One of my sons told me yesterday about his new favorite sport: kite-sailing, also called kitesurfing and kiteboarding. He holds on to a bar which is attached to a kite. His feet are on a wakeboard, or surfboard. When it's windy, the kite picks him up into the air. He flies.

He told me that he intends to do it this winter, from his snowboard.

And actually, it's not new. He's been interested in this sport for several years, and had beginner equipment. He recently invested in sturdier equipment, and intends to fly higher. With the greatest of ease, oh yeah, he's daring. 

fall

Outside I can see my breath. I smell woodsmoke. Someone has a cheery fire going. The dark sky is full of stars, planets, and one blinking airplane. I sit on the deck as Fluffy snuffles around the back yard. She's going to be awhile, so I step back inside.

Change in the weather. I unplug the air conditioners. I think about switching from dehumidifiers, fans, and air conditioners to heat. I check the oil tank, 3/4 full. I remind myself of the process for filling the tank - - and the cost: potentially $1200.

I go back out to check on Fluff. I'm wearing a wool sweater over my nightgown, and socks. Haven't worn socks and sweaters for 3 months, so they feel strange, but warm and comforting. Winter in Maine is six months long: summer exquisitely short. Fluff comes huffing up the steps. I take one more breath of the cold woodsmoke and head inside.

best compliment

Perhaps a compliment from an adult child is the best kind. Why isn't there a word for "adult child?" It sounds so funny to call one's offspring a child, when they could be any age from 20 to 80. Mine are in their 20s.

I talked to my son today. He told me about a troubled friend. This son is sensitive, compassionate, and kind. Well, they both are. Anyway, this son has many troubled friends, and tries to help them.

I said to him, "You are so kind."

He said, "I learned that from you and Dad."

garden vegetables

are the best food. Just plain, just fresh from the garden. Garden tomatoes don't taste like store tomatoes. Garden tomatoes taste like... a multiplicity of deliciousness. Same with cucumbers. Cut them up, mix together, and add maybe a little salt. Maybe a little good vinegar, that's all.

Corn fresh from the garden. Green beans. It's like you never tasted this stuff before. We eat store food all winter. Summer, ahhh. Real food.

New recipe: sauteed kale with garlic, walnuts, pasta, and parmesan cheese.

I tried to give up parmesan. *sigh* Did cut way back.

Anyway, garden vegies. Yum.

Sometime I'll write about fresh spring water v chlorinated city tap water. 

bald eagle

saw one today. It was soaring over some tall pines. I wondered first if it were a seagull, the wingspan. It came closer and I saw the dark wings, white head, and white tail. Bald eagle.