Here and There

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

"The Orchids" by Califone

There is a song I've been listening to a lot lately. It is called "The Orchids". I've heard it quite a few times before, and I always knew it was pretty, but having it in my car and listening to it alone, in my morning way, when I drive to work and am thoughtful, was different and I realized how very pretty it is. This song is Pretty. There is no other word to describe it. It is kind of a song about sex, kind of a song about nature, it kind of just slips by and when it's over, I have to listen to it again. I must admit I am that way with songs. (see post about Mates of State and "Punchlines") But this song is lovely and abstract and totally mood enhancing. If you can find this song and listen to it, you should.

A lyric: When all the numbers swim together and all the shadows settle,
When doors forced open shut again
A flytrap and a petal.

"A flytrap and a petal"?! That's good!

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Matsumoto Asters

Matsumoto Asters:

When I was sick with Mononucleosis, Peter brought me bright pink Matsumoto Asters. The first time he ever brought me flowers. They were from the flower stand on A street and he told the man they were for a friend who was sick. I kept them by my bed there at my parents house and they stayed pretty for a long time. They were in a green plastic cup with ridges on the sides. It was a truly ugly cup. I didn’t even trim the flowers- they stuck out and looked about to fall, but when my mom offered to put them in a vase I wouldn’t let her. That day he took me on a drive, I was feeling so sick. I was wearing an orange v-neck t-shirt and I was sweating because I was sick and trying to get better. I was wearing purple and gray pajama pants. I knew I did not match, no energy to match. We drove to my house, I watered some cactus I was trying to grow. We drove around, took a long drive. I let the wind move my hair and smooth my face out. I felt so glad to feel the moving air. He pointed at a cloud that was leading the way for a few others. Showing them something over the next hill. I was tickled by that image and have held it with me. I also had a dream then, when I was sick, of a steep, grassy hillside at twilight. So steep that you could lean against it like a chairback. And some travelers had lit a fire there at the top, and they played music and danced in black outlines against the red sky. I loved that dream. Illness-addled dreams are so real seeming.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Banks Rose

I am excited about Spring coming. Perhaps it is because when it does, I know that I will have a few things growing in the garden. I am planning, and dreaming about the garden. I think that many winter thoughts kind of drift toward the garden, if you are so inclined.

I am excited to plant a certain rose that I like: A Banks Rose. When I lived up at my grandma's house there were two. One climbing the back porch. It always got so out of hand; sending bent fishing pole branches arcing all over the patio and the roof. If you shook it, yellow petals came down like confetti! Then there was one in a falling apart old planter that was easier to control. A Banks rose has a trunk. It really does, it is like an old redwood trunk, fibrous and reddish-brown and thick! But I am going to take this rose, from its old planter and plant it by my fence in the front. It will be preserved and loved.

I am reading a book called "Golden Gate Gardening" and it is all about year-round planting. Mostly vegetables, but there are some flowers in there. I am wondering what I will plant in the beds this summer. A tomato, a cucumber, a zucchini (although Gid doesn't particularly care for summer squash or zucchini) Maybe some beans. We'll see what the book says I have a good chance with in this very distinctive micro-climate.

Thoughts toward flowers and vegetables are pleasant.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Why this will never be a pregnancy blog.

I've been thinking about the things that make me me. I have had very distinct moments in the last few months where I didn't feel like anything but a ball of nerve endings, everything either smelled too much or tasted too much or was simply too much. Too much not me. Too much other.

In one of these moments, I was walking from work to the bakery down the street. I needed more snacks, more food and I wasn't prepared for the day because of my food shortage. I had no groceries, no energy to buy groceries and I just wanted some sort of carbie treat to eat. Multiple carbie treats to eat all morning until I could go home and get under the covers with the cat.

On this walk, it was raining, lightly. I had borrowed somebody's umbrella and I was noticing the sound of rain on the umbrella and the sound of my feet in the water. I saw forget-me-nots in a front yard. They were all stretched out the way they do. Stems fragmenting into new stems, looking kind of angular and structured, but then there are these small blue flowers muddling all that straight-laced stem action. I noticed them in the rain. I noticed geraniums in the rain, which are lovely. They are soft-leaved so they hold water on their little hairy leaves like beads. I noticed all these things in the rain and I thought: "This is who I am. Mother or no, I will notice these things." And then I wasn't sure. Would I notice them anymore? So I prayed that I would and I think that I will.

So on these winter days that sometimes feel like Spring I want to stop and see the colors of the sky and water around me. I want to hear birds. I don't want these things to be lost on me. So I will not write a pregnancy blog, although this was a pregnancy post. Of course I hope for this child to be given the same grace that I have been given. The grace of being able to notice, to watch and be touched. But to be able to pass on this gift, if it is a learned gift, I must preserve it and practice it so I can.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

A gray vacation day.


We've been on vacation, in holiday mode, which for me has been sleeping a lot and generally feeling kind of slow...quiet...lazy.

There are still a few more days of this hazy bliss. So for now, Happy New Year and I'll see you next week, when I'll be humming around, busy and productive , with ideas to post about and new thoughts for a new year.