Dirt Lover

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.  
~Margaret Atwood

Two days after Spring arrived, it snowed. We awoke to a light dusting really, maybe a couple of inches. By late afternoon the same day, if just arriving on the scene, you'd never have guessed it had snowed. All evidence erased and with it my hope for Spring. 

Now I sit here, one day later, basking in the warm Spring sun. My body has forgotten how intoxicating it can be to have the warmth of the suns rays penetrate my deprived translucent winter skin. I'm drunk with the sun's kiss, stoned to the soul.  I could fall in to eternal bliss right here.

But there's something about the first bona fide spring day that snaps me to my senses. Dirt. I need to get my hands into the dirt. An hour later, I've dug out a bush that did not survive last summer's heat. And into the newly bare earth, I transplanted another bush that had outgrown it's previous locale. Standing back to admire my work, I dusted the dirt from my hands and smiled lovingly at the soil now caked in between my nails.  Garden gloves are standard protocol but today, I claimed to not recall where I stored my gloves as winter arrived so many months back.

Later, a cool chill drew goose bumps on my skin, I bid the sun goodbye as it retreated behind the clouds rolling in. Tomorrow it will rain, as it will the next day and the day after that, all the way through the rest of the week and on through the following weekend. I'm ok with that. The sun was my wonderful in today. It's brief visit will sustain me for a little longer as I glimpse winter's strength waning, it's presence fading a tiny bit with each day. And tonight I will slumber with the aroma of Spring lulling me into a contented sleep.

Happiness Is My Pillow

In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesn't merely try to train him to be semi human. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog. ~Edward Hoagland

I've often marveled at our dogs abilities to deem the couch and our bed as their preferred places to sleep. They will spend ten minutes building a nest among our covers, destroying the blankets and flinging the couch covers, until a suitable pile has been formed on which they will plop themselves down upon it and be asleep immediately.

One of our dogs has become quite taken with a chair pillow from our garage. If we leave the door to the garage open, he sneaks out there, grabs the pillow, brings it inside and places it wherever he thinks is most comfortable.

Sometimes he prefers the floor

Other times the table will do just fine. 

Usually though the couch works best.

Sometimes posing with the pillow is fun too.

 I've stopped trying to figure this out. He must have his reasons.

Things you should know

Be at peace and see a clear pattern running through your life. Nothing is by chance.


There's some things you should know. I'm all over the place but then again, maybe not. My focus in life is clear. My fervor well anchored and acted upon. Though, on an given day, one of my passions may stand out, my emotional state emphasized. The world will take me by surprise. Disappointment may be an unwelcome guest. Frustration may cross my path. Overwhelming sadness may take up residence, albeit temporary, as it's never allowed to stay long. Uninhibited happiness may rush over me like a rapidly overflowing river whose sandy banks cannot hold back the rush of water. You name it, it has visited. That's what makes my life a crazy pot-marked emotional response to all that goes on around me and in whatever I encounter as I ride the waves of life. I will take a hold of it. Feel it. Turn it around and around and examine it. If it fits, I will put it in my pocket with other life experiences. If it is not my thing, I will let it go. Whether they are treasures, bewildering puzzles or wrotten piles of steaming shit; they each take to me like a sculptor, shaping me like clay, molding me into who I am, who I am becoming, who I will be.

It's true, although I choose with each encounter how I will motivate my self and figure out the conundrums, my response time will vary. It may appear as if I am stuck, suspended in time on a particular issue; or I may revisit it from time to time. Such is my journey in life and one that I have come to take in stride and most of the time embrace.

I was meant to go through the first half of my life conducting it in such a way that one would tend to think of as stumbling onto difficulties and misjudgments. But although it wasn't clear in the beginning, those steps were helping to part the clouds of confusion, assisting me in charting out my life path, whittling away at my vague form. The second half of my life, now, I am emerging with a distinct edge, with an almost qualified inner truth and harmony. I can find my way more quickly back to my center, although I still get lost from time to time in the melodrama and the ever moving pendulum of my moods. I will say this again. This is the second half of my life. The feeling is new, almost honeymoon-like. My stride is not without reserve but I walk with a more confident gait.

Preparation is key if you are going along for the ride. Then again, you may follow with wild abandon. The revelations may stun, render you speechless, make the hair on your arms stand up, tug on your heart strings, give you sensations and awarenesses previously mysterious. I could never provide an agenda because that's the thing with life, with my one wild and crazy life, I never know what is around the bend. This time though, I'm a little more prepared, a little more of an expert. This is the chapter where I build my connections to the universe, open the channels to the spirit world and experience the tilt a whirl of life with skilled practice, well almost, but close enough. These are the things you should know.

New beginnings and closing credits

Much has happened in the past 8 months since we last spoke....

To recap, in April, I was heading for the beach. But what I didn't tell you was that I was going to be meeting my son that I gave up for adoption 22 years ago. I haven't yet found my words for the story of that weekend yet but I can tell you this, my heart is light once again and my life has taken on a whole new meaning.

Once summer arrived, my keyhole garden was in full bloom. Cherry red tomatoes took over once I had harvest three rounds of lettuces and kale. Eventually, I harvested my garlic and a few small onions. As the summer progressed, I found myself with a lighter shade of brown hair filled with golden sun bleached highlights and a fabulous tan.

Just before fall settled in, my sugar and i took the dogs to the beach for a week where we took long leisurely strolls on the sand, shopped daily in town for our food, took mid day naps and cooked outrageous dinners.

With the rainy season upon us, we took it in stride that our Blazer season would be in hiatus due to the NBA strike. Instead, we focused on football with our fingers crossed behind our backs. As luck would have it, on christmas day, our season commenced. Christmas this year was extra special. My parents flew into town to enjoy the first christmas with our whole family together in one place in 15 years!

We rang in the new year with family and close friends with glasses of black cherry champagne, homemade cheese dip, and pulled pork sandwiches.

This new year appears to be all about new beginnings and new found wisdoms. Which brings me to my closing credits... It's time to move on. Obviously, I haven't written a thing since April. But of course, that doesn't mean I've forgotten about you. Indeed not. You've been on my mind.

A change of scenery is in order. A new focus. I guess that's what happens to writers sometimes. Some call it writers block. I call it following the course of my life; rolling with the changes, and being ammenable to switching gears. I'm going to be writing you from a different perspective. Me and my words will be making a new appearance on this blog. I hope you will join me. It's sure to be a fun ride as I let it all hang out while exploring the wonders in life. It's truly been real. May this year be full of blessings and may you always honor the divinity within your self and others.
Warmly,
Sass

Packing Transgressions

Everyone has their own special methods to prepare for a trip away from home. It seems that half the fun of going on a trip, is planning that trip. Especially in our family. Especially when it is a family trip.


Back in the deep dark depths of winter, it came upon me one chilly wintry night, that it was time for a family get together. A trip of some sort. So where to go this year and when? Then I got to thinking. I am the proud owner of one of the rare spring birthdays in our family and this year is going to be a big one. The big 4-0. What better way to spend my birthday than with family. Before proposing it to everyone, I had to have not only a date but also a location and lodging details. With our ever burgeoning families, we were going to need some serious space. Unbelievably, I found a giant beach house that would provide not only a bed, but a room for each couple, complete with a kitchen, game room, beach trail, wireless, laundry and all that.

Now that I had all my details in place, it was time to alert the family to see if they were game. Of course they all were. And this is where the fun begins. Since the actual date of our supposed trip is 4 months into the future, we have plenty of time to discuss and prepare. And although we use the phone a bit in our preparations, most of it is done by emails, long email trails consisting of our humorous and outlandish and inspirational ideas for our retreat. Late night calls will no doubt follow as the date of departure draws near, excited whisperings of plots, plans and ideas hatched while envisioning our weekend away.

One of the most important aspects to any of our trips lies along the lines of food. What are we going to eat? We are a family where food revolves around everything we do, especially family gatherings. In our every day lives, most of us are lucky if we eat one full meal a day and snack through the rest. But for retreat planning, we pay special attention to being sure we have a delectable menu item for each of the days required meal times: breakfast, lunch and dinner. Usually we split up our meals between couples, letting snackers and picky eaters fend for themselves.

Once the food is planned, there is of course another important characteristic to our planning. What will we drink? And I'm not talking milk or juice. What I am getting at is we are a family who value our together time by hydrating ourselves with our specialty alcoholic beverages. And of course, we all have our preferences. Vodka with blue cheese olives. Screamers. Chocolate Martinis. Wine. Gluten Free Beer. Locally brewed beer. Holiday beer. Whiskey and coke. And so on. There is much to plan as we all check our liquor cabinet reserves and wine cellars and we make lists to run stock up before the trip.


Laughably, with this particular trip, there is actually a bedroom for all. But then another string of emails begin, calculating very carefully where everyone should sleep. Or should I say, where everyone would prefer to sleep. All without trying to really say where they want to sleep. Those who seem to think they have toilet issues, believe they should have the master suite with the full bath. Those with kids who sleep lightly believe they should have the farthest bedroom from the late night noise guaranteed to occur. Others want the bedroom with the door that goes out to the deck or the bedroom that faces the ocean with the hot tub inside. With all our spoken preferences, nothing will be for sure until we arrive to our rented house. And there will always be many switches and bargaining going on. Pssst, I'll give you my bottle of wine and put your kids to bed for that room with a full bath!


My family will continue the planning until the moment we all actually arrive at the beach house, yet here's where it gets interesting. Or should I say even more intriguing. We all have our funny little quirks about how we individually prepare to pack for the trip. Some of it could be nature, some could be nuture. Either way, we are all a little nuts about it.


We'll start with myself. If I have weeks to plan or months which is even better, I will organize the shit out of my plans. There will be of course first the budget spreadsheets. How much to save each month. Then the reservations come next - rental car, dog sitter, cat sitter. All those go into my newly created trip spreadsheet. On another tab of my spreadsheet is what to pack, then what to buy for food, what to do a week before the trip, two days before, the day of. Then important dates go on my electronic calendar. As the months, weeks and days pass, I will be checking off my list to do, memorizing everything. I believe this may have been inherited from my dad whose spreadsheets and lists littered countertops before every childhood camping trip. And I suppose this is still how he prepares for trips. My mother is one who plans the meals, prepping, cooking, storing, shopping; ensuring there are snacks for the drive, snacks when we arrive, snacks for any time of the day and drinks to go along with all. My husband packs 10 minutes before we walk out the door. Well, I would too if my significant other had everything else organized the way I do. Geeesh!


One sister has a very special ritual for packing. Not much thought is put into packing until the night before the trip, at which time, they buy a bunch of beer and pizza. They get drunk and pack and then go to bed early (or at least they try to). It seems to work for them except for the minor hangover the next day.


Another sister makes mental notes along with paper notes.  She makes numerous lists, checks the weather forecasts obsessively and researches nearby restaurants.  I would too if I had three kids, two of whom have definite allergies to specific foods and no one wants to leave home without items essential to providing young children with enough to do and enough changes of clothes to match the changes in weather, especially this time of year.


My other sister will most likely fly by the seat of her pants due to her busy schedule and never ending motherly duties.  She'll crack open a bottle of wine late in the evening after the kids are in bed.  Then she'll talk on the phone while she throws her listed items into bags, does last minute loads of laundry.  She'll stay up way too late and then scramble in the morning, racking her brain about what it was that she was going to bring.  She'll most likely pull out of the driveway with her coat stuck in the car door, a kid screaming because he was buckled up in the carseat backwards and it will be only luck that every family member will be accounted for.


Somehow we will all make it to our destination.  Somehow we will make do with what we have packed and laugh at what we have forgotten.  We'll get lost in the joy and chaos of all being together and none of our packing transgressions will matter anymore. 

Memories of Another Way of Being

I have always had a true deep down gut feeling that I chose to be born at this time in history. In addition, I've been told this by several spiritual sources over the years. What escaped me though was why? Why did my starlit soul decide to ride in a human body in this day and age? It's baffled me for years, although it seems I have always known generally why, the specifics always eluded me. They why - I chose to be born so that I would be here for humans transition from clueless wasteful creatures who had forgotten their purpose to humans who have begun to recall their spirituality and connection to all earth's creatures and to the stars beyond their imaginations. Over the years I have seen underground movements form, all seeking wisdom through serving the earth and the great spirit, grow to almost overwhelming masses of people, some scattering the globe. All of whom are working to share the knowledge that was born to them in an effort to turn back the clock and reverse the damage done to the mother earth. But I know my spirit did not come back to earth just to watch, for I could not be satiated with just observing from afar.

I'm am here to experience the end of the world as we know it (isn't that a song?) and in doing so, I can slowly extricate myself from it's long held grip. The fall of complex corporations, money, banks, consumerism, mass sensationalized media, traffic, pollution, chemical agriculture, endless NOISE and so forth; all of these dependent upon the Mother's resources, assumed to be there for the taking. I am here to be with humanity as we learn the old ways again. Those who are healthy, self sufficient in growing food, hunting food and networking for food will survive. Others will lie, cheat and steal and eventually die because the world as they knew it did not require them to think or try to survive.

I suppose for me there is somewhat of a thrill in the will to survive, to rely upon what mother earth can provide. The decaying rope of this current industrialized culture will finally break away and I will be free! I won't have complex yet shallow worries. No mortgage, no owning land (I mean really who really owns land), no having my identity being stolen because a hacker found his way into a multi billion dollar advertising corporation and stole a file. I won't have to ask my sister every year to sit down to a bottle of wine with me and do my taxes. I won't have to worry about a paycheck, what is money worth anyway when the whole system fails, well, it may be good for starting fires to keep warm in the winters..., I won't have to prove myself worthy of insurance, health care or a raise.

So why am I tickled pink at watching the world fall apart? What part of me is so delusional that I must find humor in the tragedy of a grave situation. Well, for one, initially survival after the fall of the world, will be brutal in many ways. Finding good food and clean water will prove to be difficult, especially if the collapse is due to nuclear fallout. Protecting ourselves from those who go crazy and can't handle the forced change will become a way of life. Keeping warm, treating injuries and sickness in the ways of a healer. And so on. I supposed it's because I've known all along that this way of life will not sustain the earth or her creatures. I've been ready all my life for it to go awry. Industrialization has always had a dark looming final chapter that has yet to be read. But many of us still hold memories of another way of being, maybe not in this life, but some of us know that we have lost our connection and that we must re-establish that lost bond if the human society is to survive.

This new emergent society would value Community and I see that it may become more of way of life than just a word. Humans will come together to help each other survive. As years, decades and centuries go by, a new generation of humans will emerge from the destruction. Sort of like the legend of the great flood goes, only a handful of humanity will survive in hopes that the lesson has finally been learned and mistakes of the distant and not so distant past will not be remade. It could be a human fatal flaw though. No matter how many times the earth is destroyed for us or we destroy the earth, we may not learn. Of course, I won't be around to see that part, where humans are once again living as once again in harmony, as the mother earth prefers. But I will be here, at least I hope to be, to assist my fellow human compadres to get through the initial dramatic and dark changes to come, reassuring that there is hope for us. So then that must it, I am here to be a part of the great awakening and the great change, while at the same time knowing with out a doubt that I will soon celebrate my long awaited freedom from the rat race that was not meant for us.

Forces of Nature

Winter was cruel son of a bitch this year.  He knocked Fall from here to kingdom come and took over with brutal force, ravaging us with winds, rains, floods, hail, snow, ice and bitter, bitter cold.  He's having a helluva time trying to continue his nefarious rule over the seasons, but Spring is resisting and steadily gaining control.   For even though Winter's cold is still evident, Spring has managed to poke it's head out just enough to encourage the sleeping trees and dormant bulbs to stir, setting in motion that miraculous thing we call life. Winter may imagine himself to be the more daunting force of nature but Spring is resilient and set in her ways.  She will toss him from the dominion, his tail tucked between his ass cheeks, and a harsh sentence in hand mandating that he stay far, far away until the other seasons have had their analogous time on the throne.  And so it goes, in the kingdom of seasons.