2010

bizarre
and crazy that i can remember so many...
here we are AGAIN>>>
(i am sneezing.. so much so ---
happy new year to you & you & you & you & you...

nearly new

its late-
i cant sleep-
but have to rise early..
it's nearly the new year--
2010-CRAZY
- 10 years since the millennium fury,
20 years since i was 13 (which is clear as a bell-),
28 years since prince sang 1999,
and 30 years since i was 3...
to be three...

kismet turns 3 on Monday-
strange- to think though, that this is actually my fourth winter there (at kismet)-- i remember three winters already passing, and can see myself there- looking out of the back door at the snow piling up each time.. and i wonder- am i growing? does me staying here (the longest i have stayed anywhere) mean me growing wiser, or me growing stagnant? (maybe if i stay put i will find out??? our should i lean and reach and stand up walking some place further?)

-
i crave evolution
i want so much more than the face value of all of this...
i want the puzzle to come together.
i want the work, the strive, the hunt and find- and i want to capture all of it- like a flower press, like a water color, like a classic recipe, like a song in three part round harmony, and i want to fit in in in in...

new year.
same me
i'll wait
and see....

arizona

at 3 am on saturday morning, while everyone i knew was asleep somewhere in the world, i woke, and drove myself to the Burlington airport to fly to arizona. At 4 something am I boarded a tiny tiny propeller plane to fly to Philadelphia- only to exit the "aircraft" 30 minutes later because of engine failure on the runway (i had a bad feeling about that plane from the moment i saw it so i was relieved to return to the airport!)- 10 minutes later i was rerouted and put on a larger plane to Washington dc. at 3:30 pm vermont time, i arrived in arizona and was quickly in the entrance way and arms of my grandmother...
i have spent the last three mornings doing yoga in the 60 degree sun and the last 3 afternoons and evenings with my grandmother. she is 80 (but looks 65) and has the energy and spirit of a young woman. I am enamoured by her- and always have been- so to be in her presence, and to be in her home, I am full of both pride and humility. I have always enjoyed her company, since my first visits to see her as a child, as well as in my adult life- our times together have been a treat and each as memorable as the first time i flew across the country at 8 in my yellow dress and sun hat- my grandmother is the closest link i have to my birth father, whom I feel very deeply connected to- and at the same time, I am her closest link to him- on top of all of that, we are naturally very similar in our "ways"-
Being with my grandmother is hard to describe-
i am now and have always been so curious about her- she has fantastic style, amazingly adventurous and mysterious stories of her travels and experiences, and she is the most devoted and clear person I have ever met. She loves clearly, consciously, and deliberately- she is disciplined and determined to enjoy her life the fullest, and does so in a way that makes it seem easy, and somewhat enviously so. And when I am with her, for me, my life feels whole and complete in a way that is impossible to describe in just a few words.
Because I owe many of my "firsts" to experiences I had with my grandmother (and grandfather too), I do think of her often- when cutting into a steak, i think of her showing me how to use a knife and fork properly- i think of her, and everything about that moment- the kitchen, the quoy pond beyond the sliding glass doors, the wedge of melon on my plate, the centerpiece on the table, the neatness of her hair, the light on the canvas hanging on the wall- and trust me-- each time i cut into a piece of food, i think of her. But when I am with her, it seems foolish to recount such little things-- especially, when I know that the reason I have coveted such mundane memories such as these, is because even as a child I felt that i was destined to know this woman. I studied her- i studied the way she decorated her house, the way she set a table, the way she dressed, the sort of things she liked to eat and drink, her posture, everything - how she brushed her teach with baking soda and hydrogen peroxide, how she exercised every day, how she let my grandfather dote on her, how she drank filtered room temperature water, how she spoke of her parents- the war- and how she maintained all of her relationships, even the most, regularly through letters and phone calls.. Some of my most fond memories are of her. I remember when I came to stay with her- each night there would be a gift under my pillow- something small, something simple- like a little candy or a jade stone- but each would be wrapped so perfectly, and so intricately-- i would be in my bed and she would say "how is your pillow?" and I would say "fine grandma"- and she would ask me if it was lumpy at all-- and i would say no- and she would say "look under it, i am sure it looks uncomfortable" and I would, and there the gift would be.... and i remember feeling so happy, so loved, and also so overwhelmed- and there she was looking at me, giggling- even as she does now still- with a look in her eye of complete and absolute love-

today my grandmother asked me to look through her things and pick out things i might like to have one day-- this caught me so off guard, and I cried.. she insisted that i really think about it and let her know- because, though she doesn't anticipate it coming soon, EVERYONE has an expiration... I looked around and felt so bizarre-- i don't like the thought of any of it being separated from each other-- for as long as i can remember her home as been as it is-- even before arizona-- i know she has carried many of these same things for such a long time, and they all belong together-- it's like a museum-

Today I brought a digital voice recorder and asked my grandmother to talk with me-- she agreed, but in return, I would have to cook lunch AND dinner!
we sat, and she talked for 3 hours! and, honestly, we could have sat for 300- she is so full of memories and with such clarity she tells these stories in her easy to listen to voice- stories of times i can only imagine- stories of a world that really doesn't exist anymore-

then, I cooked...



VERMONT MEALS TO HEAL THE SUNSOAKED ARIZONIAN

first meal at home:
(my grandmother's close friend, neighbor, and loved admirer has not been well, so i cooked some meals to both heal and entertain.. George could not have any vitamin K so, i left out all green vegetables)
VERMONT WINNER CHICKEN DINNER!
large whole organic chicken
{i cut out the back bone, then roasted it "spread eagle" (as grandma called it)}
i zested rind of fresh picked grapefruit
2 ounces chamomile tea (or sleepytime tea bag, opened and pored out)
1 table spoon course salt
1/4 table spoon course pepper
(i shoved all of the spices under the skin, and sprinkled a few on top and roasted in hot oven for just 30 minutes-- )

assorted root vegetables (parsnip, celeriac, purple potatoes, red potatoes, shallots)
cut and cubed, roasted with olive oil

acorn squash
cut in half, roasted seed side down, then turned over, filled with butter and maple and browned (YUMM)

salad
asian pear
granny smith
radish
fennel bulb
jicama
kolrabi
(above was spiral cut on a benriner)
blackberries
white balsamic
(blackberries and balsamic pureed with an immersion blender, then strained)
candied walnuts (garnish, whole)

lunch:
beyond simple- i brought an avocado, some salad greens and quinoa..

Salad:

quinoa
1/2 avocado
1 cup baby greens
drizzle olive oil
drizzle fresh lemon juice
drizzle tamari
tablespoon sunflower seeds

side of roasted edemame
side of roasted almonds with raisins


dinner-- night #2
(george's request....)
beef wellington.

1.5 lb fillet Mignon -2, 1"steaks, each cut in 1/2 (organic)
1/4 lb assorted mushrooms
3 tbs Madeira wine
6 tbs duck pate
1/8 inch thick puff pastry, 12x 12- (usually freshly made, but if frozen, make sure to thaw in advance)

1 bunch baby carrots with greens
9 baby potatoes
1/4 cup fresh peas

butter (of course)

(as I told my grandmother today, beef wellington is very simple-- it's just very expensive..)
so if you want to spend $20 per person to cook this AT HOME --go for it-- it's really not that hard and can be prepared in just under 1 and 1/2 hours.

(SIMPLE STEPS)

1. season both sides of meat with salt and pepper as well as olive oil-- let it sit out for about 1/2 hour to get to room temp
2. roughly chop mushrooms, then blitz in food processor, add some dried forest mushrooms for depth
3. sear the steak 1 minute each side HIGH HEAT (set aside)
4. put mushroom goo to the hot steak pan, saute for about 5-8 minutes (you will see water coming out, which is good-- water sogs pastry you know-) add wine, saute 3- 4 minutes longer until dry and fragrant, add a little salt- turn off heat.
5. cut puff pastry in large squares (about 2" wider on each side of a fillet)
6. rub with egg wash (scrambled up egg- UNCOOKED)
7. place fillet on center of each pastry square
8. top with about 1 tbs pate
9. top pate with 1/4 of mushroom mixture
10. fold up pastry and seal around meat and mushroom bundle
11. cover in egg wash
12. sprinkle salt
13. sprinkle pepper
14. cook for about 8-10 minutes at 425 ( or until a meat thermometer reads 145 for med rare)-

(of course the baby potatoes were roasting this whole time you were preparing the wellington --so they roasted about 30 minutes at 425

and for the carrots ?

peal, then steam for only about 4 minutes-

drain all water, add peas, a smidgen of butter, and let it do it's thing until ready to serve..

and now...

vanilla ice cream with just made preserved grapefruit!

just made preserve grapefruit:

fresh picked kitchen window grapefruit

2 star anise

1/4 cupe sugar

2 cups water

boil water, sugar, anise for about 15 minutes

add thinnly sliced pink grapefruit

add 1 tbs vanilla (or even better, 1 pod vanill bean, cut in 1/2)

reduce heat to med,

simmer 10 minutes,

pour in mason jar and can or refridgerate

makes yummy tarts and also good under chicken....

brusselsprout and sausage soup

i made brussel sprout and sausage soup last night- layered the potatoes, onions, garlic and sauasage then tossed on the whole brussel sprouts in the crock pot.. i put it inmy fridge and this morning woke, took a showere, and put the whole bundle in the crockpot contraption, added water, set it on high and left for my full wednesday (monday my world)..
work was busy-
no news
went to therapy and talked about god and spirit and gurus and india
went to pick up fela from day care then talked to sara--
big sobs
chloe was hit by a car and was dead..
chloe is our wee dog-
we got her as a gift from my sister for moses's tenth birthday and have all been acclimating and falling in love with her since..
i picked up fela, and sat both kids in the car and told them....
the rest of the night was sad
sad and full and real

i dished up the soup i had made and we all sat there trying to eat, but not being able to.
the soup was aweful anyway..
i dont even know what could have tasted good then
we were all just sitting there in our own loss-
fela wanted to make everyone feel better but also kept saying "i feel sad for chloe" just like he had three weeks ago when raina passsed-- we ate dinner and he kept saying "i feel sad for raina"....
this has been a hard month.. and winter is still on her way..

i will not make brusselsprout soup again
ever.

order out pizza

it's been a long year- but fast and full and intense-
monumentis
Michael Jackson died
and Raina
and my parents were divorced
and so so so much more
weddings
events
divorces
separations
and aging..

i have been roasting chickens to ground myself
making soup with roasted bones and teaching the kids how to make mashed potatoes and gravy..
but carrying around dreams all the while of other pleasures-- like room service
and vacations
and stability.
today i receive pizza delivery
mushroom and cheese
and play scrabble with moses (he doesn't want my help and still scores only 30 points less than me without me cutting him a break).
it's Saturday in this part of the world- but i am living in a Thursday bubble--- it has been three years and i am still trying to figure out how to best manage my work week.

went to the black door while moses and i were waiting for our laundry to dry-
i ordered fries and seltzer for moses and Mathew delivered us a plate of hand cut Montpelier frites and his salad special of the evening. I sat amidst a group of 50 something montpelierites and ate this beautiful (but hard to describe in an appetizing way) salad-- with my hands.. the bar tender (soon to be my property manager, i hope) neglected to deliver silverware and so i at the watermelon radish/walnut/winter green/ bacon/cheddar salad dressed in rosemary infused pink grapefruit juice piece by piece... and was thankful that i knew to enjoy it without the fork... i think it probably tastes batter that way anyway-- just like pizza quickly delivered and eaten on the comfort of my living room floor...

one day

and now

it's november

cold wet dark and... just so november

there's this eerie-ness about it- this silent sort of waiting- like everyone is secretly loving and internally celebrating how "warm" it still is, we are silent in it-- not too comfortable with it- just loving it silently- it's kind of like a slow peaceful death-- we know it is meant to be, we anticipate it coming, but we are quietly singing inside for each ray of warm sunlight.

i have been in an odd place-

somewhere between here and there

somewhere between happy and sad

a place i can only compare to a watchtower.. i am watching- watching my life span on-unfolding-children growing- white hairs forming- butt sagging- and yet, stillness... my financial situation is recovering v e r y s l o w l y

and my evolution feels minor,

and my reality feels skewed

i have been going in and out of each day and each day's little dramas, and all the while determining time marked by raina-s passing.

i remember what we had for dinner the night she died

i remember the first hour after she passed

i remember the hours of the next day

days

and these last two weeks.

i remember even yesterday as if it is a memory blended in

going to her house

going through her clothes

picking things

sitting with her mother

wanting to tell her that i didn't really want just STUFF, i wanted the freedom to remember her and know her however i wanted... i wanted to reach my hands in and scoop out the essential essence of her and make something beautiful out of it..

i wonder if i am numb

if i am trying too hard to translate this metaphor

but she keeps coming to me

and it all makes so much sense-

and everything else seems to be put into perspective..

what is this??

where is my tribe?

what am i doing besides coping?

what do i do now?

wake up

feel skin on muscle on bone

operate this heavy machine

yield

and move with grace.

and keep on trying

each day as if it were new

and keep on pushing

this body and mind

to have a breakthrough.

because i am lonely

and will always be

but still i am connected

to the sacred geometry

of

you

of you and her and him and that and this

story...

what if i stop and ask myself what i am doing?

and the answer is "i don't know?"

what if i stop and ask myself what i am feeling

and the answer is "i want to go"

what if i stop and wait for what i need

would the light burn through the fog to

shine on this seed?

until then

i will cope with dire straits

by maintaining my limited faith and

preening my self esteem and

remembering clearly all that brought me to this place.

my muscles will be strong

and i will lye down in the fear i know, knowing that i will know more

one day.

she's gone

it's been dark, cold and rainy for more than a week- but today the sun came out, it was almost 60 and it felt like spring- and then, as if she was waiting for a break in the clouds, she slipped out of the cells of her own body and floated away..
safe travels raina star..
i love you

transition

moving into winter--reluctantly- hesitantly- but resolved.

days spent thinking of Raina- in her hospital bed in h er room at home- her mother there tending to her as her new born.. her family and friends all busy being there-- and then me trying to be helpful and present, gathering memories for teo and mike and for them all. I am riddled with grief- and anxiety- nervous that i may make things worse- worried that i could do something MORE but am oblivious to what it is.
my friend is dying- and though she could look at me and look like she has important things to tell me, i am still unsure about what she wants.. and it is winter i feel coming- silence- peace of snow on branches- but we are actually still here in transition.
dont really know, have no idea..

RAINA

its so hard to get on-

and BE in the moment-

MY head is heavy with thoughts--

raina

raina

QUEEN

MATEO

prince

MICHAEL ANGELO

BETH

WENDY & JOHN

it's like a story

deep sigh-

i am filled with it;

riddled.

my heart is broken

my heart is broken
I've been crying for days
i try to think of other things
but the thoughts return-the grief remains
my heart is broken
when i look at her
-broken
brain muddled, split apart, shattered, sewn shut
i see her trapped inside
i want to touch her
but she is too far away

everyone knows now
what i feared two years ago when she was diagnosed with brain cancer-
that this is forever
that this is really deep
and dark
and not like the light Raina being we knew

my heart is broken
because my fears have become true
she is here
but not able to join us
and no one really knows what
will happen next

doesn't look good
but we
believe
in
miracles..,
we believe
in love
and the queen.

Grandma-
your last message came in mid july-
i have written a couple of times, but have heard nothing.. I hope that you are ok, and that your george is recovering.
My life is overwhelmingly busy and especially so at the moment- i am ending my partnership with my business partner, expanding the restaurant, and both boys have begun school (fela is in kindergarten!!). I am doing WAY too much for one person, but at this point, really see no other way, there is really no one else but me..
I hope to have a break in november, and am looking at tickets then (not to get your hopes up, as i know i have been trying to visit for a while), but it has been TOO long, and i am ready to just figure out a way.
I wish there were words for how much i miss you. I am missing you all of the time. all of the time. i love vermont, and i love you, i wish i could have both.

i want to know everything-- EVERYTHING
have you been writing? i know at one time charles cohn was encouraging you to write your memoirs-- and i too, have been waiting for your words and all of the details for some time.. what can you tell me?

it is cooling off here now- and fall is approaching, and winter on it's way. I am not ready, and honestly, if fela's dad wasnt so committed to being here, i would move somewhere else-- somewhere warmer--- thinking of mexico.. but i do feel kind of stuck and committed here for at least the next 9 years.. seems like such a long time, but looking at moses (and even my own reflection) i know that that will fly by. At the same time, as i get older, I am seeing that time is there kind of singing--
As i wrote previously, my very close friend raina has been suffering from brain cancer for the last two years, and (in my "spare time") i have been visiting her. It is overwhelming, and intense- as you know. Last night i went to visit her, and she was speechless. It was so hard and sad to see her this way, as i felt like there was so much she wanted to tell me, and so much i wanted to know, but couldnt ask--and all day i have been thinking about her. We are only a week apart in age, her son and my moses think of each other as brothers (you met MIKE- my boyfriend years ago- he and raina birthed teo together, and i was there with them through the pregnancy and birth and these years that have passed have kept us very close). Being with raina brings so much up for me- so often i feel so tender after being with her, and unable to communicate myself, as well.
But today, i had to try again to connect with you- because i feel you with me all of the time (and my dad, victor too), and lately, really, more than ever. maybe it's the time of year, maybe it's the years-- but i am longing, really deeply longing, to sit with you and see your smile..

with tears in my eyes, and 3000 miles between us-
i am sending you love like a river flowing from my heart to yours.

i need you in my life
crystal

its kind of embarrassing how many different foods i cooked today.. it;s harvest time in vermont, it's wedding time too-- we've got all sorts of odds & ends crammed in our fridge-- but- something is missing...
can you guess it?
alanna.. where are you?

hello...where are you???

i trust that no-one reads this blog by now. except you, and a couple (literally 2) other's i give this address to... so-- why have you not written?
i am almost desperate now.
dont ignore me.
i am fading
with exhaustion
from this tiring silence.
write something .

something
is better than nothing
at all.


dad-
come on- i'm missing you.

dad

dad

this is my dad-..
my birth father died when i was 3months old (when he was in his mid-late 20's) and my mom brought Terence to meet us when i was in kindergarten.. I loved him immediately- he laughed sincerely and was tall and lean and available in ways i had never know a grown man to be. he made fun of us- but in ways that we deserved- and when he and my mom got serious (after three months or so) he told her they would have to get married if they were going to stay to gather-- because (as he told me) he was getting attached to us kids and wanted us all to feel safe to be attached together-- i remember when they told us they would marry- we were staying in a winter cabin near Bradford VT and went for a hike in the winter woods.. we were a bit lost so Terence climbed a tree to look out over the snow.. it was when he came down (in my memory) that they told us they would marry. the next day we went looking for houses in they area because they had decided to marry and move to Vermont....
i was ecstatic (it took my sister some years and much convincing)- and all through the wedding planning/dress buying/packing/ and arranging, i was openly happy. SO much so that on the wedding day (after throwing daisies at all the fashionable late 70's hippy guests), i drank champagne and passed out-- the next day (still happy) searched for Easter eggs and watched the uhaul being packed in the front driveway on moss street..
over the years, as i grew and life became more complex and i began to contemplate the depths of my own story, i watched from a sort of adolescent distance as my father (as he had become) and i grew closer through music, literature, poetry, and love. I respected him - and was the only man for years that i truly thought i knew.


having children has definitely changed my relationships to my parents-- my mother whom i tortured and was tortured by became an object of admiration; and my father whom i trusted and depended on became distant and unreliable.. Over the last ten years, i have had a few conflicts with each and them together, and watched as they naturally and finally took their leave from each other. I have watched them each now for the last year as they both struggle to redefine themselves, and have suffered from their pains as they heal from the years spent unhappily together.. despite my compassion- i have sat in a sort of silence unknown to us-- i have not spoken to my "dad" in almost 2 months- he has been sick but has not talked to me about it. He has not answered my emails with any sort of clarity about promised he made to moses or to me-- the summer is nearly over and i feel shaken and sad- because for the last two months i have been mourning the loss of my dad-- again.

what happens- when the children become parents and the parents become children?

ive been sitting at my computer for nearly 4 hours-- the odd thing is (to me too) is that i have been looking forward to this time all day.. it is only 7:45 and i am so done though-- i want it to be sunny again, like it was, three hours ago--
my back hurts, my eyes burn and i am beat.
i miss yoga

i am sitting here stranded though doing my best to deny it..

yet
there is nothing, really nothing to turn off...






RETURN
to me.

i love you--but

it has been over a month since i spoke with my parents-

i live across the country from them and have been pretty self sufficient since i was 15.. but this silence bothers me.

i have given both my parents my blog address- nearly 2 years ago- thinking that if i wrote here, freely, it would give them (and everyone else who wanted to know) an opportunity to read and comment.. but there is still silence.



there may have been a time that silence was comforting- a bit of a relief, maybe- but with this year going as it has been, i feel a bit isolated and abandoned in this silence..



here we are..

each

alone

ofcourse we have no way of knowing how connected we really are unless we completely embody connection--

and do i?



still asking--- who is my dad?

who is my mom?

who is this guy who was my dad?

who am I?

what is this?

when will i know?

when is it too late?







my children are growing

i am their family-



i'm scared sometimes

because

i know

i'm just not enough---



dad..

mom..

where are you?

mom dad,

the days are moving quickly now-- and then, it will be another new year..
beside me in the photo is Raina-cute and sweet and silly- and there is me--skinny, tinny and suddenly aging-
but alas- this photo was from LAST YEAR, and more has passed..
i work all of the time (i am writing this blog at 2 am, after having woken at 6 am -yesterday?) it's kind of like driving cross country non-stop (which we do from time to time in our youth) only i don't feel like i really got anywhere..
ok.
crystal.
make it come together.
heal

get close

ground

summer in vermont in 2009 is kind of like having to pretend that we live somewhere else (while still living here)- like Seattle--or,,-----------washington oregon- or------------------ even in another hemisphere (it's like winter in new zealand right now..!)--
what will happen next?

click here

click here...

sei la vei

and then there is this..
32

12:15 am on Sunday night--
door slams and after everything-- this is it. this day--comes to THIS--
ahhhhh- but what is THIS?

mama says: do your best-- mama says "don't get sucked in to fear"

but this mama
this mama
is so scared...
she who walks out first.... wins?
looses?

32
mystery opening.
naked girls at the bar drinking tea (or coffee?)...
man who wants to fly

i am that man---
i am those girls-

naked,
crazy
exposed
open
and invisible--


and where are you???


my grandmother-
my father--
my partner--
my mother--
my SELF




ok
lets end open
happy
free

lets be us
like children
totally blank canvas
pink on green

i am yours to imagine..
but too i am scooping poop out of cracks-
such is life...

its been too long- too much to say

love

vermont spring

love

silent dawn

"it's ok" i tell myself, to wake up this early0 and I wake-

alive and aware

and raw still from the day before

and then,

after watching it from my window, and breathing it all in (from my open window),

i go back to sleep- content and full

as iff

i just ate thanksgiving dinner-

and then

i oversleep my alarm..

poop

i throw clothes on

i open the door

and

YES

spring is waiting.

this is why california, mississippi, new zealand, australia, massachusettes and arizona couldnt keep me--

THIS is the reason to be alive-

children are happier here-

music is free-er here

food tastes better here (ofcourse)

and this-

to me

is home

skin my knee, skinny me

its windy outside, and it's been way too long since ive written here... roast chicken and potatoes (again), but yearning for avocado salad and ... elementary school(?)..
wow-- the wind reminds me of the sea- i want to travel, i want for things to change, and be like how i thought they would be .. i know where the keys are, i know the flavors of spring, i remember my youth, and yet.. ultimately, I am HERE feeding roasted chicken to my children (me--- a mom?) AGAIN as we all yearn and wish and wait for it to come..
so much change in my life though, outside of what you might see looking in my window- so much that it is terrifying.. I am overwhelmed and still here, waiting for something within me to evolve. I keep reading and keep watching, and keep seeing myself re-act.. i am a slave to my ego-- it's crazy. i'm a slave to my children-- and i am an only part-way conscious being... i want more

more
more time to see raina- and teo
more time to make love and bask in this love that i have finally created
more money
money for mexico
money for ideas
money to get three or four pairs of shoes for my children
money to change the world for someone who has no money-
and i want joy..............
joy like the knowing (without doubt)
joy like the being (without fear)
joy like the making (without attachment).
i want the joy around me like the sun in the morning on my face-- though i squint and duck-
joy like today on the sidewalk on elm st.-- like it is in the summer.
i want more.


but i have this.
my love
my want
my fear
my hope
my perspective.


i have roast chicken leftovers in the fridge downstairs (soup tomorrow)
i have books to read (one day)
i have work to do.

i have me.

______________________________________________

ROAST CHICKEN FOR MARCH 11 (but feels like February 2)

• finish work at 3:30
• grab whole free range chicken ($12.00) from fridge and rinse clean
• prepare chicken in the roasting pan (drizzle with oil, lemon juice, left-over home-made enchilada sauce or what-ever, dust evenly with salt and pepper)
• dice 3 large local potatoes and throw in the pan around the chicken (drizzle with oil)
• put in oven (uncovered) on 280 degrees and leave
• drive to therapy (watch as it unfolds)
• drive to pick up youngest child (watch at it unfolds!)
• make errands
• get home, help eldest with homework
• 6:00-- turn chicken up to 350 degrees for 15 minutes to crisp skin
• turn off oven- listen to children fight, but guide them gently towards the bathroom to wash their hands for dinner
• 6:20 carve chicken (youngest likes the leg--adults get the breast in our house)
• let cool on plate 10 min. while making sure hands are clean
• drizzle meat and potatoes with pan sauce
• add steamed cualiflowers and kale to plates (or something green)

thats it....

winter feels endless... i cooked chicken again- fela will eat it joyfully, and moses will do his best- and its windy- 25degrees and there is 3 feet of snow in our yard..- the picture above was actually taken three months ago-- when winter was fresh and new- and here we are, one month from "spring" and we have more snow than you can imagine... in the above photo there is only 1 and 1/2 feet-- we now have twice that...

but, in our own world's bubble, it is the end of february, which means, that INEVITABLEY<>

took sara to the traint oday so she could head to nyc.. the tracks were covered with snow, the train broke down, but still she left-- good for her, it's hard to get away... and in her abscence., i realize that mystic that i know to be travel- and how distant she is to me... sara has made it to nyc, despite the weather, and i am here, recovering from my own journey.

this last week, i left the restaurant for connecticut..

My grandmother (ne-ne) died on sunday and so on thursday am i left in a snow storm for stonington/westerly/pawcatuck.. in many ways the event was a miricle. I have not been to her home in 6 years, and I have not left vermont since july- and in fact, i have not traveled on my own (without accompaniment) since 2008-- since before moses (he will be ten this year)- so just getting in the car on my own was a big deal.. I brought water, vermont ginseng, and npr-- and talked with friends i havent spoken with in a long time.. i was anxious when i left- raina had had brain surgery on sunday too, and i hadnt heard from her family since then--so i left vermont wondering what i would come back to-

the trip was intense- a typical protestant funeral with all of the fixings- and the first funeral i have been to since my grandfathers when i was 14. I loved seeing my family again- loved seeing my sister in this element, loved reconnecting with members that i have held in the memory section of my brain (fixed and steady-but kind of fictionary)- and i loved being away-- but at the same time, it was so intense-- intense to see parts of the family that have changed-- as well as those that have not-- i am rambling now- and not really saying what i mean.

i loved seeing my cousins-- i realize now that cousins are like extended siblings- i love them like siblings, but have more autonomy with them-- and the same for uncles and aunts-- they are like parents (they were like that when i was a kid), and yet like strangers too..

i came back to vermont with a car full of fish, and a desire to cary the experiance full circle, and i returned to the restaurant with a sort of tender open longing to know what to do-- and still doing what i know-- i served eggs bene ontop of ne-ne's favorite stuffed scallops, and finnan haddie omelettes- and i talked about her all weekend long-- and then i looked around and wondered-- what is this space? where am I? what is this life?-- maybe standing next to an open cascket will do that to a person- or maybe it was seeing the house i grew up in (where i first ever made mac n cheee on my own at age 7-- and where my parents got married and i saw my mom turn a watermellon into a swan-- and where i first ever drank too much champagne---) the house i walked to when i broke my collar bone- the first door i ever unlocked; the place where many of my first memories come from--

yes- i grew up on a street of white houses-- yet mine was golden stucko---so it is..

i want so badly to have the words to describe

the longing

to fit in

my desire

to ease gracefully

into a sort of success i imagined

there.

i want to know how to

tell

about how i have missed

those days

learning how to be

free-

when i was taught how to swim on the beach in stonnington,

to tie the knots for the lobster traps in the tv room,

when I grew up and you all watched-

i am here now remembering

and longing

to express

my thanks and appreciation-
can my work be enough?

its february-

in vermont

and if you dont know what that means..

let me describe it=(its the opposite of this picture.)

dodgy weather

cold, white. fearful people

ice mounds and icicles. and ice blocks, and frost heaves..

but also it is a time for

buying seeds, planning gardens.

starting the network for new projects, and taking good care of ourselves...

just amidst the february frost and depletion of sunlight and money....

alright- if you live in vermont you probubley expect to get through february by existing in a certain state of denial-- i appreciate that-- but i also believe in collective conciousness= so= while the rest of the country (world) is bracing itself for economic and energetic negativity, we in vermont IN FEBRUARY already KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS>.. and we DO IT EVERY YEAR! we base our business on it- we organize around it, we try to make peace with it, we try to deny it, and we eventually, we GET THROUGH IT...

i was ready to do what needed to be done this winter.. i moved into a warm and spacious apartment with my best friend and lovey and put my nose down to focus on spring-- i mean, it happens too quickly anyway- so i thought, i will focus on spring all winter and be in winter, but be focusing on spring and i will SURVIVE and be ready when it happens (because, if you live in vermont, hardly ANYONE is ready for spring when it happens--- it just sort of sneaks up and grabs you and starts dripping like a cold, but WAYYYY BETTER)-- but what has Actually happening, is that i have been consumed by the waiting-- i have taken too much on for summer, and already my summer is booked! i am so excited for spring yet now- the only way i am really present in winter is be being exhausted... i pass out each night and awake feeling sleepless, i am edgy, but kind of stodgy, and i am quick to jump but slow to move....

wow..

what will happen when spring does come? will i come too? will the early morning frighten or excite me? i wanted to emerge like a flowing river, like a dove from a cage, like a dandelion from the soil--but maybe i will actually explode like a flood.... or a volcano..or....... a jackpot roll on the king slots in Vegas?????

who knows..

what we do know is that i have been edgy... and jumpy and then suddenly silent.. like the sap that slightly moves in the maple tree veins... (we all need it to flow, but cant make it happen... just have to wait and appreciate...)

i am like a song that wants to be written..

a hunk of tough meat wanting to be braised..

i question that wants to be answered..

a mistake that wants to be fixed..

i am like a bird feeder without the birds...waiting

i am like a memory within a memory within a poem

i am like you

and you

and you

and i am as if i am

lost

but knowing

making it up as i go

tasting like a hound dog

the grounds before i enter..

but i am also like the souffle that doesn't rise-

disappointed and confused

let down

but still hopeful... (i am only eggs).

And then

i am again

like i was that night in Montreal

thinking of my grandmother

my fathers

my mother

and her lobsters

my lovers

my children

my dreams

and .........

here.

like

a fight that wants to end in a kiss