It’s been almost 3 weeks since I last posted. I started a new interim position 2 weeks ago, so haven’t had as much time to do extra things like posting. The job is going pretty well. Now that I have taken on a few interim positions I know to expect the firehose of information at the beginning. So I have had relatively quiet weekends since then, hence, not a whole lot to post. It’s really nice to not have to be the one ultimately having to make all the final decisions. While I’m taking over for the business manager, the head of the law firm is the one who makes the final decisions on everything. It’s great not to have that big responsibility. On one of my wanderings I discovered in the other building an arboretum with parakeets.
So, you ask, what have I been up to? I went kayaking in Sausalito with my sister, Lori. That was a ton of fun, especially since the company that we went through, Sea Trek, has a set up where you get in the kayak on the rubber dock and they push you into the water, then when you are done they haul you back up again, there’s none of that challenging getting in and out of the kayak when it’s on the water! It was a beautiful day, we saw seals and checked out houseboats, and Mt Tam.
I’ve had some gorgeous views on my morning walks and drives across the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge, seeing gorgeous sunrises and sunbeams shining through the clouds. I got to visit a goat farm in El Cerrito and tried to milk the goat, but apparently she has a very hard time with new people. She was not into it, but it was fun just being around the goats.
I borrowed a weaving machine from the Mill Valley library’s Library of Things and ended up making almost half a dozen different projects. It was a lot of fun. I’ve been doing a little bit of watercoloring. Mom’s tomatoes are growing well.
I went on a long hike with my friend MeeMee, who recently retired. We commiserated about dealing with aging parents and talked about our upcoming hiking trips. Emmy was a bridesmaid at her friend Sarah’s wedding. It’s a third generation friendship as Sarah’s mom, Rachel and I were best friends when we were young, and Sarah’s grandma and my mom were best friends since their nursing days. It’s very sweet to see them celebrate milestones in each other’s lives, especially since Sarah’s grandma passed away just a few days before her wedding.
I volunteered twice at WPI and now have turned in my membership application since I finished my 3rd volunteer stint. One was helping out at an ice cream social, which was a lot of fun, especially working with 9 year old Ruby who had lots to talk about. I’ve also continued to volunteer at SPARE on Mondays, which is always enjoyable, good people, great music, productive work.
I’ve been looking after Javi for the last week while my sister Christina was doing a half Ironman in Oregon then relaxing in wine country. Javi and I took a walk in Tiburon at Blackie’s Pasture, went past the Audubon Society house, and saw some really cool community-oriented signs. We also went to Muir Beach one Monday morning and were the only ones there for the first ½ hour – very cool. Today when we went for a walk, there were two kids selling lemonade and homemade cookies – I love that – and it was a great excuse to buy cookies! Today is also my dad’s birthday. I miss him so much.
Morning walk poetry collage
Aching feet.
Treading on uneven ground.
Tree Branches being gobbled up loudly by a machine. Bandsaw buzzing.
Bikes, strollers, dogs being walked on the opposite path.
Birds swooping as a group over the trees.
Strong fennel scent. Green arms, yellow tipped, reaching to the sky.
Muddy, stagnant marsh hiding life.
Tussocked yard, inviting for dogs. Moss covered fence posts.
White lab tugging at its leash as its owner loudly discusses her latest job interview.
Ancient pine trees.
Unexpected Buddha contemplating life.
Institutional looking Hospital. Whose idea was it to make such a prison? How is that going to help people get well?
Gray winter’s morning but knowing that in an hour the sun will be out.
An unexpected find at the side of the road – an iridescent blue mancala marble. Memories of childhood, making our own homemade mancala sets with egg cartons and stones, being occupied for hours.
Abundance of flowers outside a back gate. Fennel reclaiming the area. Reminders of a fennel forest at Slide Ranch when I was a kid. The clacking of the dried stems towering above us. Terrifying, yet comforting, in that enclosure. Knowing we could wander and explore, but never get truly lost.
That’s the making of a happy childhood – A place to explore, to learn, to grow. But knowing you are never alone. You were safe. You never had to figure it all out on your own.
Turning around, seeing ducks dashing for their food.
Finding an unexpected seating area. Wow. Who created this beauty? Does it get covered up in the tide?
Wandering back, wondering. What will this last day be like?
Inspired by my fellow classmates, all older than me, some considerably. Seeing that the future has so much potential, so many possibilities.
Excited to have been challenging myself to try something new.
Being open to what comes up.
Where will I sit today? Another new spot. Maybe I’ll wait to come in until the last minute, and just take what’s there. See what chance provides.
Is this a poem? Is this just musings? Where do I go from here?
When I’m busy noticing, I forget my sore feet. I don’t think about what’s next, what has to be done.
Bikers – Why do you need to wear those clothes to ride a bike? They’re not racing, is it to declare they are bikers when they’re not on their bikes?
The mountain top is enshrouded in fog. It’s getting warmer. But the mountaintop is still covered in mystery.
That’s what I love about this place.
How the fog can come in, cover things up, change it, make it feel protected, and safe.
I don’t have to wake up to a hot raging summer.
But if I want, I can drive and find it not far away.
We’re all here walking with these white plugs in our ears.
Some to talk. Some to listen. Occasionally the sounds of birds or construction break through. Walk without this distraction. How different would our world look? If we hadn’t been distracting ourselves for eons.
Is that what happens when you have too much, you need to distract yourself from it? Is that, in itself, its own kind of pain? A different pain from those who don’t have enough. But a pain, nonetheless.
Ugh, it’s a bro and his crocs, his phone on speaker, ’cause everyone wants to listen to his important conversation. Gives a smug smile, leash around his neck, completely ignoring his dog, who has now wandered into the marsh, disrupting the wildlife that lives there.
Men take up too much space. They keep squeezing women to the sidelines. And they don’t even know they’re doing it. They don’t see their domination. Cornell, who always has something to say. He’s the only one who speaks twice when invited to only speak once, always has a comment, a personal story, never seems to notice that no one else takes up time like he does in class. The other 15 of us are respectful, and give everybody an opportunity to participate.
Loud mouths who always feel not only that they have a lot to say, but that everyone wants to hear what they have to say, that they are so clever. Yes. Those are the people I loathe.
Because I am one of the quieter ones. I wait and consider. And sometimes, the moment passes, and I do not contribute, then wish I had.
The importance of silence, something we need more of in poetry class. Not just silence when we’re writing, but silence when we’re speaking. Then those of us who need time to collect our thoughts can contribute. Those who need a few minutes to let things sink in before they respond.
Women aren’t perfect. I am far from it. I think, though, that we have more compassion. More of an ability to look outside of ourselves, because that’s often what we’ve been trained to do. Sometimes we do it too much.
Back to sore feet again, and the end of my walk. So this must be the end of my poem.