Another beautiful day in the neighborhood. I love that declaration used by Mr. Rogers at each and every beginning of his children's show. What a great way to begin each day, especially when you're a child. Both of my boys watched Mr. Rogers Neighborhood and Sesame Street. Jay was strictly a Sesame Street kid - high energy, stimulating content with lot's of emphasis on classical preparatory learning. Eric, on the other hand, was exclusively a Mr. Roger's kinda guy. Mr. Roger's was soft, gentle, and kind. His learning style was laid back and focused on the things that made a person a good human being. I loved to watch the shows with the boys and always marveled at the wonder in their eyes as we watched. It sure beat the shows I watched as a child. Mr. Green Jeans wasn't bad, but Nurse Nancy was dismal, and the cartoons were sometimes more for the adults that the children. I did get a kick out of watching my Dad break out in laughter at scenes from the Road Runner. I think he amused me more than the actual show. My Dad was a great laugher. He had all different styles of laugh depending on the situation. It was almost as though the laugh itself indicated what type of funny was being elicited.

The sun feels so good coming in through the window. I love sitting in front of the windows looking out on the backyard. In the winter months, I can see a lot of the Pinion Hills and the position of the sun's rising is quite dramatic if you follow it over a horizon during the seasons. Even the moon's appearance in the evenings is interesting to follow. We can turn off all the lights in the house and sit at the window and watch it come up behind the leafless winter trees. When our boys were little and we lived out on our acre in Johnson Lane, we would get our lawn chairs and sit in the back of the pick up truck in the driveway and watch the moon rise over Mount Seagle off to the east. Even the dog would join us. We must have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies! Those were the days - I'd do them all over again if I could.

Although today was one of those days, weatherwise, you'd like to see more often, I'm worried that we may not get much precipitation for the next month or so which is so critical to the growing season. More seeds have sprouted in the greenhouse and I'm tempted to sprinkle some lettuce and kale seeds in the wine barrels as both are cold weather crops. If they could get a good start, even if it did snow again, I'd still be able to harvest those crops on an ongoing basis for the rest of the winter, through the spring months. I've been growing a Russian dwarf kale which does very well here in the cool of the spring and the heat of the summer. It's very hardy and doesn't bolt easily. I guess I should give it a try and maybe that will prompt the weather gods to have a good laugh and send another storm our way. I did start some sprouts in the greenhouse as well today. I just put a wet paper towel in a plastic tray, sprinkled some sprouting seeds on the paper towel (I really like broccoli and radish sprouts), and put another wet paper towel right on top of the seeds.

I've got bread in the oven right now and Bob's taking a nap on the couch. I love these quiet days filled with the simplicities of life. The time just moseys by. Cooking is so enjoyable as well. This morning was a one egg omlette with grated zucchini and fresh basil with pan fried potatoes. Lunch was stuffed chard leaves. I went to WinCo last week and I couldn't pass up the huge chard leaves. I had made chana masala and also biryani rice, so I took the leftovers of both, combined them together and stuffed the chard leaves. The leaves were so big I had to cut them in half to make nice small rolls. They almost resembled dolma. A red sauce with rainbow bell peppers and onions covered the top. They were delicious just heated in the microwave with a little grated parmesan. I am committed to making good, wholesome food which includes lots of vegetables and whole grains. We've really cut back on our consumption of animal protein in the last couple of years and I include fresh fish as often as possible. It's interesting because I've noticed that during this time, my kitchen does not get as dirty - no animal protein grease! Op, the buzzer just went off - hot bread in our immediate future.

Two weekends ago, Bob and I recovered the greenhouse frame with plastic, tucked in all the edges and taped them secure. We wrapped the outside with rope (a trick I learned from volunteering at the high school greenhouse project), bought some seed trays and a heat mat. I also made a candle powered flower pot heater that I ran across on Youtube. Fun. It's been eight days since I planted a quite large selection of seeds. Low and behold, out I go to water this morning and check on the progress of my potential crop and there they are, two little green leaves forming already! I am so excited. I don't think there's anything more fulfilling than growing things you can eat. It's an amazing thing to think that the earth that gave us life, also gives the means by which to sustain that life. I marvel at the fact that once again, my feet touched the earth this morning and gravity grounds me there. Plants on the other hand, need a system of roots and leaves to sustain themselves, whereas many species are free to roam the earth with only the help of gravity. We depend on these rooted plants to aid in our existence, but we don't give much thought to the forces of physics that keep us firmly rooted on the ground.

Take a moment and think about it. When you rise in the morning and take that first step, imagine the whole of the earth underfoot, the magnitude of what you are standing on and the force that keeps you there. Really feel the earth with each step taken and know that you are just a very small part of it. Be grateful that it's there to offer you support and safety as you make your way through the day. Imagine also, that someday you will become a part of it and return to the place whence you came. It's humbling. It's comforting. It's inevitable. That's why the spirituality of the Native American Indian reveres the ground so powerfully. The desire to return to the place of your creation is the center of that spirituality. Through this, maybe we can all understand why the earth is held so dear to our Indian brothers and sisters.

I feel so tired, of what exactly, I can't articulate. Everyday tasks seem so daunting, unmotivating and robotic. I'm going through the motions of something that is not mine, strictly defined by me, but something I don't want but can't shed. The past five years have been such a search for spirituality, constantly reading, listening and exploring. Maybe the time has come to listen to the mind - this very powerful part of the human creature that somehow, miraculously, is us.

Life is change, constant, unending, almost rhythmic at times, and yet not always discernable. But if you open your mind to change, recognize it's ever present nature and embrace its mystery, it becomes a comforting fact. Some of the changes may not be welcome. Some are an unconscious relief.  Our bodies change everyday. We age, we see the wrinkles, the sagging skin, the aches and pains are more prevalent and sometimes we suffer disease. And yet, our minds can become more fluid, we can discover openmindedness, we learn to forgive easily and the anger subsides. The mind may lose its sharpness, but with its rounding, we can experience a gentleness and acceptance. Some of these changes are necessary to endure the pain that life has brought to us. Some are necessary to understanding of life's journey. Impermanence is the essence of life.

I believe I have moved into a stage of my life where, if I am going to understand my experiences in this lifetime, my world must be quieted. The most joy of reflection I find is to be in my surroundings without distraction. My journey over the last five years has been one of a lot of noise - the noise of seeking and hoping for answers in the noise that comes at me from the outside. This morning, I am sitting in front of my east window and relishing the sun on my face, not thinking of the agenda for the day, but just feeling and listening to the marvelous earth that I place my feet on, because today, my feet are still here and someday they will not be.

I can't change what's happened, although at times wish with all my heart I could. I can only guide what happens to me next, and even that becomes a lesson in futility. I can eat healthily, exercise, still my mind and my tasks, not be so driven to "do" but just "be." I think I have finally come to the realization that it's ok to just be. Now is the time to simplify, make what's left of my journey in this world lighter. There are many things I do and there are times I wish there was just one thing, or even nothing that I could focus on. But I was born with these things in me. I've always felt a need to share and experience the things I can do. They, however, must not consume me and I must give myself time to be still and reflect, to take care of myself both physically and mentally. For, in the end, it is not what we leave behind that is so important, it is how we have connected our mind and body to the earth that has given us life, the ability to love and to accept love. It is recognizing the inner connectedness of all of us that gives us meaning.

It is time to quiet the mind and ponder this experience called life. Prepare the body for the road ahead and ask of it things it can do without burden. Lighten its burden. Understand it has worked hard to get you where you are today. Clean out the pantry of indulgences and gather those things that will be gentle on its tasks. Don't wait until the body tells you it is tired and needs a lessening of the things we ask of it. The same is for the mind. Lessen the chains of direction and let it free. This I plan for the retirement of mind and body.

Another year has breezed by with such limpid zest and disinterest that I know not how to distinguish one day from the next. I've tried to delve into projects or past motivations that seem to have no impact on my search for distraction. Even words are becoming harder and harder to come by. My thoughts seem to flow ever so mysteriously to worlds that no longer exist - times gone by and people who are no longer living. Now all those desires I worked so hard at squeezing from this life are superimposed on the lives of the people who are gone before me. It's become a constant game of wondering what those people were able to get out of life before their deaths. I think about the plane crash that took the life of my cousin, Jack, when he was 24, and how it affected my aunt and uncles' lives. How did they react? How did my father react when the news of his daughter's death came over the phone one night when I was only 6 years old? I never knew he had been married before, nor that he had other children. There are times when I wish I had of been more exposed to these things so I would know I'm not alone in my sorrow and grief. I still miss Eric so much.

I was able to keep focus on my plans for a trip with several of my girlfriends to Mexico for Dia de Los Muertos this year. It was a great time and I'm so thankful that I was able to share it with friends. We built a beautiful altar and all were reminded of the losses we suffer as human beings - inescapable human truths we believe we cannot bare, but do and go on sometimes very alone.

This last weekend, my oldest son, who is a mere 31 years of age, told me I was getting gray. "Yes," I said, and didn't think much of it at the time. I don't have much - more growing in around the temples, and a patch just above my forehead on the left side, almost like a streak, but I know more is coming. I've never worried about my age or wished I was younger. The past three years however, have aged me quite a bit - in ways I would have never guessed. I hurt all over. My hands, feet and shoulders being the worst. Sometimes I feel like my arms are not quite connected to my body. My face definitely looks older, ravaged by sadness and grief. But, all in all, I know growing old was inevitable and, quite frankly, it doesn't bother me. There hasn't been a time in my life when I felt this comfortable in my own skin, and yet I wonder if it's because I don't really care much about anything anymore. Maybe it's just a symptom of my apathy at life in general. I do know the only things keeping me going are my husband and son. Without them, I would not be here today.

The Joy of Cooking

I've never been a mayonnaise fan. When I was in elementary school the trauma is still raw when I remember opening my lunch box, carefully unwrapping the bologna sandwich and discovering there was mayo on it. It didn't happen often, but when it did, I was devastated. I guess when you have five children to make lunches for everyday school day, sometimes the order wasn't quite right. There are things now I will eat with mayo, but it has to be mixed in. For  instance, tuna (but not on the bread), egg salad, macaroni salad (only my Mom's recipe), potato salad, and a little dip of mayo on each of my artichoke petals. But now, the game has changed a bit. Little did I know how easy it is to make homemade mayo and how absolutely delicious it is. The recipe in the Joy of Cooking will have you saying, "bye bye to Best Foods." My Mom's macaroni salad just hit a new level. I just hope I don't eat it all before our get together tonight here at the house. Yum.

I haven't done much pottery since I finished my Mom's cremation urn. Unconsciously, I may have processed the finished product as an end and then didn't notice any creativity creeping back in. Her urn is beautiful and I know she would have approved. I believe she was with me in spirit while my hands imagined it into reality. In the past couple of weeks, I have been doing a little more and today I stacked a couple of totems in the yard and took pics.  They add a
little color and cheer. I can't use the word "whimsical" as it reminds me so much of the many times Jay and Eric and I watched some home decor or garden show on TV and continuously laughed our heads off as it seemed every other word used by the hosts was "whimsical." It was a constant in our vocabularies after that making fun of all sorts of news articles, people and work situations. We always had fun that way. Due to the overuse of some other words like, "shameful" and "stupid," I still can laugh out loud without a care as to who can hear me! Jay and Eric's voices are constant companions to me.

 I love walking at Riverview Park - so does Meggie, note the flapping tongue. Each season finds the trees, sky and general appearance of the landscape displaying the most beautiful of it's attributes as if in a competition. I'm not sure I could say I favor one season over the other. Each is so uniquely lovely.

Yesterday, I was able to snag a wooden pallet I had been eyeing for sometime now. With it loaded into the Suburban, I felt a bit triumphant considering it involves a project I haven't discussed with my hubby as of yet. I keep hinting that I want chickens but his eye rolling has been a barrier to the forward movement of the project - until yesterday! I was able to get a box pallet which is basically a pallet crate. It's measures 4x4 and if I turn it over, will serve as the base for the hen house. My old greenhouse will serve as the skeleton for the hen yard. The only obstacle for me is getting all the materials together in one place so I can put it together. That's where the hubby comes in, so I have to keep working on selling the idea.

I tried so hard to settle myself down before my head hit the pillow last night. Once I actually got into bed, I really believed I would be able to nod off right away, but alas, that didn't happen. Last time I caught a glimpse of the clock, I had been "settling" for an hour. Better than usual, but still not optimal. I was a bit more refreshed this morning, leaving the comfort of a quiet room and soft bed at about 7am. I sat and watched the birds while I sipped my tea and then took Meggie out to Riverview Park for a nice walk. With camera in tow, I was able to click away and enjoy a beautiful Spring day in Carson City. Meggie was so happy. I have lots to do today to get ready for Eric's birthday gathering on Sunday. It's a great time to reconnect with the friends Eric loved so well and who loved him in return. It's amazing how their lives have developed and how they have grown into those lives they have been building for themselves. I just wish Eric had of been able to continue on the journey with them.

It's almost beyond my ability to comprehend the fact that I have not posted anything to this blog for the past two years. Has it really been that long? But then when I think about it, what have I actually been doing? I should know the answer, but I still don't recognize the changes in my life as truly being permanent. I can compare this time in my life to the process of molting like a bird - but most of the old feathers are clinging on, hiding the new ones trying to grow through. Even when the new feathers do grow, pushing out the old, the bird still resembles what it was before it lost it's feathers. Nothing in my life feels familiar and the restlessness I carried around with me for so long is gone. In the past, reinventing myself was a way for me to cope with my restlessness, but it seems I have totally forgotten how to do that. Of course, restlessness is easier to manage than sadness and grief which still cling to so much of what defines me. It has seeped into every pore in my body and my body reminds me of it constantly. I feel old.

Just one victory a day would be helpful. No matter how small or large, being able to have some satisfaction might be what my body needs to help me feel alive again. The physical pain stops me in my tracks and discovering a way to diminish it's affects would be most welcome at this point. The sleep deprivation I've experienced is contributing to the physical deterioration. I'm sleepy in the evenings but as soon as my head hits the pillow, my mind won't stop. I toss and turn trying to get comfortable and end up a frustrated, tired mess. My best sleep is in the morning when I used to be up and around, ready for the day. It's a sleep shift I don't want to succumb to. It might just be time to take back my schedule and force myself to get up as early as I used to, take the dog for a walk, and try to start my day on a fresh note.

So, day one tomorrow....

It's been so very difficult for me to even think about writing. I keep thinking I should be figuring out how to bring him back, trying to figure out exactly what to do that will prevent this from becoming a reality. I still keep feeling there is something out there I can do to turn back the hands of time and that I must find it.   The idea that this is reality has not crept into my vocabulary yet. I've not yet let go of the idea I will wake up from this nightmare. Each day that goes by blurs into yesterday - tomorrow is the same as today and today is just as painful as yesterday. I can hardly believe it's been almost a year of Eric's absence because I'm still expecting him to walk in the back door.

Each day that goes by isn't immune to the longing for the same day last year. "When Eric was still alive," I've kept saying to myself as each day presents itself and I remember what we were doing last year at this time - when Eric was still alive. I dread the day when I can no longer say to myself, "last year at this time."And the day is looming as my anxiety grows.