Category Archives: Dear Diary

Home again, Home again . . .

What an amazing trip. We got home yesterday afternoon (20+ hours of travel) and started doing the laundry. (I’m proud of us — we came home with one pair of unused socks and that’s it. :-))

I’m sorting through the 100s of photos, I’ll either upload them or burn CDs.

Highlights:
Watching the “PM’s questions” in the House of Commons, the British Musuem, Van Gogh’s work (in the National Gallery), having an authentic moment with a drunk Irishman in a pub (did you know Hoover was the who ordered Kennedy’s assassination?), and seeing Sir Ian McKellan as King Lear, with the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company) _at_ Stratford-Upon-Avon.

Things I’d rather forget: the incredible NOISE of London, the phenomenal amount of DIRT in the air in London, and discovering that bacon is nothing like what we think of here in the US.

Things we missed: Blake’s works (they were not on display because the Tate was prepping them for a new enxhibition), the RSC doing Macbeth, the -interior- of Westminster Abbey, most of the ‘famous houses’ and such landmarks, and the rooks of the Tower of London.

We’ll just have to go back. (But not until we’ve done a few more of the Continent’s cities.)

Crazy Cute

I get a ton of catalogs. I cancel the ones I have absolutely no use for, but the quality (or the targeting algorhythms) are getting better. The one that came today (Uncommon Goods) was lovely (handmade goods, recycled products, VERY clever stuff).

But this just made the covet list:

Garden Sculpture

crazy month

It’s hard to believe its been nearly a month since i last posted, but when I look back, I can see why. J. and I are preparing for our glorious trip to London next week; I am preparing for Ecumenicon just before then; and we’re renovating our ‘workshop’ (inheirited from the former owners) into a workout/guest room.

We’ve learned a lot from this project: Demolition is easy, but thinking through the basic physics of how a piece is constructed is necessary — especially when it is ‘hand built.’ A really good list will save you repeated trips to the big box DIY store. ‘Mudding’ your newly installed wall takes twice as much drying time as you thought (and threes times as long as you hoped). Carpeting the floor before you install said new wall and paint makes cleaning (and keeping clean) really hard.

We put up some pictures, here.

Moving In, Moving Out

I’ve been contemplating my stance in and towards the world. Quite a while ago (in my 20s) I realized that I seem to follow a 7 year cycle of alternating between being introverted and extroverted. As near as I can tell, from birth to about 7 years of age, I was a fierce little tomboy of a girl who ran with the boys (and dominated them, mostly) reached out to make friends all over the place and was quite the little social being. Then I radically turned inward and just stopped doing anything like that until I was about 14. (Yes, life events bracketed both ends of that time period. No, I’m not going to talk about them here.) Then I got interested in being with others, especially boys, once again. I went out. I made friends (some of whom I kept for a more than a decade), I reached out to others and was available in a more visible way.

My 20s were introspective. At the time I was also preparing to manifest one version of the American Dream: picket fence surrounded house, kids, the secruity of being taken care of by a man. (It’s really weird to put that into print, you know? I mean, that person is SO not me now, but then it was very serious business.)

That first Saturn Return did its work. I was picked up, shaken like a rat in a terrier’s mouth and dropped once again into life with a lot more perspetive on what *I* wanted, as opposed to what I’d been told I wanted. Yay Saturn. Moving cross-country propelled me into a strange state of *needing* to reach out to others. I couldn’t do it in my environment very easily, so I found the ‘net and writing, and that led to my first book, and public speaking, and . . .

If you’ve been counting along, you’ll realize that I am in a weird place. I’m craving introversion, solitude, and privacy. But the demands of my vocation require me to create a certain level of public contact. For book promotion, yes. But that is not the prime motivator: reaching out to my community, learning from them and offering my knowledge in return is what I am manifesting. Now that I am in the 2nd half of this part of the cycle, I can see the tension this creates in me.

Last weekend I went out into the public and the result has been a desperate need for privacy since my return. Blessed J. for understanding and making space without even needing to be told. (A good thing, since its taken this week for me to understand the subtle depths of what’s been going through my back brain.) I’m supposed to be lining up speaking engagements and book signings and all that stuff. Instead, I’m reading books I’ve read a dozen times before (fantasy — the ultimate escape) and noodling about how to remodel the garage.

I’m not sure how to balance the tension, or harness it. I’m not sure I have to.

Traveling

I made it to Toronto yesterday — but my luggage apparent’y remained behind in Chicago. It was a tight connection to the last plane out, and I knew it was a 50/50 chance . . . and I lost.

The bad news is that they ‘can’t find’ my luggage, and in one hour I’m going to be presenting here at the Toronto Pagan Conference. My key talk, Magickal Group Dynamics, the one with a ton of handouts and detailed notes for me to follow so I get as much information as possible into a single hour. In my luggage are those handouts, business cards, and — most importantly — copies of my book. I was going to give one to Deo and another to Judy Harrow. Now, I have nothing.

Not even a toothbrush (which is mightily disgusting, let me tell you). I’m ignoring the ratty hair (thank goodness it isn’t long enough to mat, yet) and the slightly droopy clothes. This is because I was smart enough to wash my socks and ‘dainties’ in the sink last night and draped them over the heater. So, underneath, I am actually clean and comfy.

Sadly, I am running a fever and the head cold has not abated. I’d deal if my luggage were here, but its too much and I just want to go home.

Enough self-pity. I’ll post a real commentary about TPC after my talks.

It’s Here!

My author’s copies of Magickal Connections arrived today — what a sweet surprise! Truly perfect timing, too, since I can take them with me to Toronto this weekend!

It really looks good — and J. likes the Dedication. 🙂

Secrets Revealed

J. turns 35 in May, and that is a milestone birthday (in my view). So I decided to give him his dream vacation. Unbeknownst to him, in early December I purchased airplane tickets, a hotel room, and center-theatre 8th row seats for Mary Poppins . . . in London.

Since then I’ve been a mistress of mis-direction and outright lies.

Oh, I laid a clever path. In January I “confessed” that I was going to take him on a trip for his birthday — to DC. That covered the need for a week’s worth of packing, taking time from work, and prevented him from making any other plans during that time.  I’ve held simultaneous conversations with his parents, in one email telling them how nice it would be if they joined us in DC; in another, telling them the true plans for the trip. We talked about seeing the symphony and going out of town to visit various Civil War sites.

I was a clever girl.

But I can’t keep a secret. Lying is intrinsically foreign to my nature. Last night over dinner, I broke. I just couldn’t keep it in, and he spotted the glow. He guessed I was keeping a secret, and he even let me off the hook to tell him what it was. But the words just popped out before I could dissemble or prevaricate.

“Would you mind if we didn’t go to DC for your birthday?”

“Of course not. We’d have to tell my parents.”

“They already know. Because you’ll be spending that week in London. I hope that is ok?”

He just looked at me. For a long moment I almost started to worry that I’d done this wrong. That somehow I had really misunderstood. “I’ve gone too far” I thought.

His smile was what I needed to see right then, and I got it. He was, he told me later, really sorry he’d made me worry, but I’d just given him his dream and he couldn’t quite believe it.

It was a good thing we were finished with dinner because he wanted to get right home (our other plans were no longer interesting). He had planning to do!

And I am downright smug. Oh, I wish I could have held to my plan to keep it a secret for another 2 months, until we got to the airport to pick up the rental car and instead went to the international terminal. That would have been a perfect surprise, and a fantastic story.

But this way he gets to plan and dream and revel in the happiness for a few extra months.

I win. 🙂

Why I am lucky in my friends. . .

It began with a pun about Tattoo that led to an involved discussion of Fantasy Island, mostly for the benefit of a friend from South Africa who’d never heard of the show.

  • Ricardo Montalban was identified as Khan from Star trek 2 (“Khan!!!!!”)
  • What exactly is Corinthian leather, and what makes it fine? (In retrospect, I’m impressed none of made a Sandman connection.)
  • Was Mr. Rourke an angel, or an incarnation of God?
  • Roddy McDowall made a fine ‘devil.’
  • Fantasy Island is a lot like Love Boat, but the point wasn’t coupling, so much as realizing one’s true desires and manifesting them.

We went to a description of the hilarious SNL skit with Patrick Stewart as the Captain (Star Trek: The Love Boat) but resisted actually watching it. (Please understand, theoretically we were playing a game and so had tasks to accomplish. Theoretically.) From there we had to watch the hilarious but really seriously awful ‘Kitty Bath‘ sequence. JC nearly wept with laughter and couldn’t breathe for a few minutes.

Somehow we ended up with JG telling us about the guy who got sued for selling Dragon Meat sausages “because they don’t have real dragon meat in them,”and ended with DM sharing his one up: The used car salesman who had commercials showing the ‘used car factory’ and was sued by an angry customer.

I love my friends.

Portland Joys

J. and I returned last night from a quick trip to Portland, OR; a belated birthday present for me. As usual, we had a great time.

First off, despite a ‘late’ leaving from work (and may I say: I really hate it when other people’s inability to budget their time means I’m working after they get to leave the office) we headed home to pack and reassure the furkids that all was well. (The early dinner distracted them, I’m sure). We hit the road about 6:50pm and despite the late hour traveled in fairly heavy traffic all the way through Olympia. I can’t imagine what the daily commute must be like for someone who lives south of us, but works up in Seattle. Dreadful, trully appalling.

Nonetheless, we pulled into the driveway of the Brittania at Terwilliger Vista BnB (http://www.terwilligervista.com/) at precisely 9:50pm — our usual 3-hour journey. J. booked the Garden Retreat because of the soaking tub and fireplace, and it was very romantic. No frillies! (Tangent One: why does romantic seem to equal plastic lace and over-ornamented frou-frous? ick). The late hour and long drive meant an early night for us and into bed we tumbled. (Tangent Two: bless the people of the world who believe that a good night’s sleep means a firm yet yielding mattress. And several pillows, thick and thin for those who sleep on their back, sides, and tummies.)

Breakfast started at 8:30 with juice, several kinds of bread, cereal, fresh fruit and Eggs Benedict if we desired. I passed, but J, tried them and liked them. Carl was the cook while Karen chatted with us. (Turns out we have a California past in common and we amiably shared Bay area commentary over coffee.) Then it was hippity-hop to the Portland Art Museum (http://www.portlandartmuseum.org/) to see the The Quest for Immortality exhibit. This is a lovely collection of art from various tombs (of course) including the highlight: a reproduction of the burial chamber with its walls painted with the literal instructions for the sun to go through its nighttime journey. The audio tour was even worth listening to (narrated by Jeremy Irons). We spent more than two hours wandering through, and could have spent longer if it weren’t for aching old abcks and knees!

For lunch, we asked one of the docents for a recommendation, and he directed us to SouthPark (http://southpark.citysearch.com/), a seafood restaurant with a lovely lunch menu. So lovely, in fact, that we wished we didn’t already have dinner plans. Local suppliers, incredibly fresh fish, and a superb wine list made this a restaurant we will be returning to in the future.

Back to the room for a quiet afternoon of tubs and naps. The we gussied up and headed out for dinner at BlueHour (http://www.bluehouronline.com/). If you haven’t had the pleasure of having a meal here, please make the time. You’ll thank me. We hadn’t been here in about a year (give or take a few weeks) and were laughing to be seated at the same table. Then our waiter came to say hello and started off by saying, “have you been here before?” just as we were recognizing him as our same waiter. We were given an amuse bouche of cauliflower mousse in grougere, and while I recognized the excellence of it, anythign caluiflower is wasted on me (brussell sprouts, too). I accompanied my Pinot Gris (Oregon ’04) with the 20 Greens salad. Crisp greens, very few bitter, and a delicious sherry mustard vinaigrette combined excellently. J. had the Roasted Potato soup with smoked bacons and chives –just a few sprinkled on top added a smoky depth to the thick, rich soup. Just the right amount of time after that, our main courses were served — and this time, J. won, hands down. He had the Roast Chicken and Dumplings, a dish utterly unlike anything you’ve had at home. The chicken was roasted tenderly, and thoroughly so that it was completely cooked but not dry. The ‘dumplings’ were more like slices of dense apple-pecan bread and the combination was orgasmic. My own Double Cut Pork Chop with onion marmalade was superb, but the chicken was better. We happily devoured every bit, sharing back and forth generously. Dessert was (as it was the last time) a tad tricky. BlueHour has the usual flavors for dessert (chocolate, seasonal fruit, cream, and citrus) but presents them in unusual combinations. We ended up choosing the Peppermint Ice Cream Profiteroles with Hot Fudge Sauce and the Apple Tarte Tartin with Creme Fraiche Ice Cream. WOW. The peppermint ice cream was like licking a frozen candy cane — very intense flavor. The tarte was perfectly warmed and also delicious (but J. had won again ).

Although we stayed awake long enough to digest, our dinner took us about two hours, so we weren’t overly full to begin with. And we again slept very well.

Breakfast was yummy french toast and this time we had company — two other couples from WA. We chatted and shared stories and recommendations and then packed up our belongings. After settling the bill, J. and I headed to the absolute must-do in Portland: Powell’s City of Books. We’re old hands by now, so we decided on a meet point (wherever I ended up) and time (one hour) and split up. I’d been inspired by the PAM exhibit, so I made a point of going through the history section and picked up a book on Alexander the Great, and another on Courtesans. A fiction piece set in Ancient China looed interesting, so I picked that up as well. From there I wandered over to science, and found an interesting book on the evolution of our understanding of DNA. By now, J. had found me, we’d agreed on a new time to meet, and we split once again. So I headed over to the area that takes the most time, even though I go through it the quickest: Sci-Fi/Fantasy. C.S. Friedman has a new book out, but I held out since its Book 1 of 3, and I have no desire to torture myself for the next four years. A few missing Lackey books (once owned but lost over the years), some Eddings, and a few totally new authors all went into the basket. By now we’d been at Powell’s for more than three hours; it was time to get on the road.

Just as we crossed the river, we realized we were hungry, so we pulled over at a place called The Broad Street Brewery & Grill. We were just in time for the last quarter of the playoffs (sad Seahawks!) served up with a really yummy Pulled Pork sandwich (me) and Halibut and Chips (J). Their Winter Ale is pretty good as well.

Finally, we really hit the road and made it home in 2.5 hours. A busy weekend, full of fun culture, and realy good food. A perfect birthday present.

Bringing in the New

We all stand on the brink of the new year, the cusp between times.
 

No wonder it seems like a good time to shed the old and welcome the new. Resolutions are made now, drawing on the power of this change time to manifest them. Or that’s the hope.
 

But I urge you to consider this: you cannot make change until you have made room for those changes in your life. It is much harder to quit smoking when you don’t have something else to do with your hands (or lips) instead. Or lose weight, if you don’t make other changes that support your loss.
 

I believe we all – as witches – have THREE ‘new years’ each and every year:
 
          1. Our birthing-day. This is the most powerful one for me. I take time before the date itself to chronicle the past year. I look at my achievements and record them, honoring myself for having done so much. I especially am proud of those things I did that I did not plan to do. For me, those were opportunities that I took, rather than putting off, or ignoring because they weren’t ‘in the plan.’
 

          2. Samhain. The witch’s new year. This day represents the ‘pause’ point after the heavy work of the triple harvest (grain, fruit, and meat). Our ancestors worked long hours for many months to get it all done before the first freeze made it impossible to do much more. Samhain is a good time to reflect on your achievements, honor your ancestors and relax into the (relative) quiet of winter’s coming.
 

          3. New Year (calendar). For all that some call the calendar a meaningless invention, there is a whole lot of free-floating energy to be found in hordes of people recognizing that this in an opportunity for change. The energy is neutral, good, or negative, depending on your perception. For years I discounted it, believing that resolutions made now were grandiose and without true thought. Desperate resolutions, made out of need, not desire or because of the weight of society’s expectations, rather than true choice.
 

          And they can still be that. But we can make choices that arise from our contemplations at Samhain. We can use this time to make ‘course corrections’ so that we are closer to our true desires and clearer about what we want to manifest in the coming year. The desire to write a novel felt _right_ at Samhain, but you haven’t had the time to write more than an outline since then. Perhaps re-focusing to complete a chapter, a section, or a specific word count is the better resolution to make.  Instead of berating ourselves for not having lost any of the 50 lbs we wanted to lose, we can renew our commitment to lose weight in a slow, steady manner. We can re-set our goal to something more like ‘one pound a week’ or even ‘I will eat one piece of fruit every day and walk for ½ hour three times a week.’ (For some of us, it can be a major achievement to just stop drinking soda, or eating pretzels.)
 

As eager as we might be for a fresh start we are mindful that the old never goes out with a whimper. Changing habits can be as difficult as quitting drinking for an alcoholic or heroin for an addict. Its not just about willpower, although having the fortitude to deny one’s self that which once caused us pleasure has a lot to do with willpower.  It seems that creating new habits to replace the old ones is the most successful strategy for making permanent change.
 

For example: if you smoke indoors, and want to quit, the first thing to do might be to start smoking outside only. When it’s cold outside, smoking isn’t quite as much of a pleasure. Oh, and you’ll have to stop what you are doing to get dressed and go outside, so you’ll probably do it less often. You house will smell better and be cleaner, making three positives for one small change.
 

I’ve found that it is tempting to make sweeping changes and get really focused on doing it all at once. But it is almost guaranteed that you won’t be able to sustain the energy for all those changes and so you slip a little here, a little there. . . until you realize you haven’t made any progress at all, and despair sets in.
 

My greatest successes came from making changes in small increments. Last year, for example, I committed to eating less processed food and making sure that most of my meals came from organic/all-natural raw products. White flour and processed products were replaced by whole grains (brown rice for white, etc.). As a result, the quality of my food improved, and my flavor profile increased dramatically. This year, I intend to make sure my meals are more balanced, with less starch and meat and more fruits, vegetables and lean protein. NEXT year (yes, 2008) I’ll focus on portion control, if I need to. What this means is that in 2006 my weight did not fluctuate very much, even though I essentially did no exercise, and my health was better overall. In 2007, I will continue to enjoy as much food as I want, but it will be of such high quality that I am going to feel great. I will likely lose weight because my overall portions will be balanced and the need for ‘fillers’ (sweets and snacks) will be less. (This is true for me, not for everyone.) If I _still_ feel like I need to lose weight (or something) I’ll start watching the portions – that is the closest I will come to a diet.
 

Small changes feel harder, and don’t give us as big a result as fast as we want it. But they tend to be the changes that we keep up with. And so the longer-term result is much bigger and easier to maintain. Science tells us that if we want to make something a habit we have to do it for 30 consecutive days. The month of January is conveniently just right for that. Personally, I think that if we miss a day and get back to it, the habit can still ‘stick,’ but I’m an optimist.
 

So, I urge you to make your resolutions, make room for the new habits, change the old ones, and start small for long term success.
 

Happy New Year!