The weather's been nice here. Upper 50's, sunny. As soon as I can, I go barefoot.
All the floors in my house are hardwood. Except the kitchen which is very cold ceramic tile. Which feels great in the summer and breath-catchingly cold in the winter. The hardwood floors are very old and very, um, rustic (read: neither waxed nor vitrified nor whatever else one does to a hardwood floor). Which means that you can only go barefoot or wear shoes or slippers in my house. Socks = many splinters.
I was upstairs yesterday, working from home, cleaning, doing whatever. I sat down at my desk and crossed my right foot over my left knee. And saw a HUGE splinter dangling from one of my toes. About a half an inch long and about as thick as an acupuncture needle. It didn't hurt, obviously, I hadn't even noticed it, who knows how long I'd walking around with it in my toe.
And isn't that just the way it happens sometimes? You walk around with this thing that you don't even know about.
What have you got that you haven't noticed?
Friday, March 20, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Oddities
Four people told me they thought something strange was going on yesterday. Cosmic energies swirling about.
Julie pointed out to me how strange it was to hear a mother (me) say to her children, "Stop bickering and stop speaking French."
My favorite violet ice cream doesn't taste very good anymore. It tastes like shampoo.
Boy1 had an dental appointment this morning. Not his first. Cavities were involved. He was anxious. While we were in the waiting room I walked him through a couple of visualization exercises. When he opened his eyes he said, "Thank you, Mama. I can do this anytime I need to find my courage."
Julie pointed out to me how strange it was to hear a mother (me) say to her children, "Stop bickering and stop speaking French."
My favorite violet ice cream doesn't taste very good anymore. It tastes like shampoo.
Boy1 had an dental appointment this morning. Not his first. Cavities were involved. He was anxious. While we were in the waiting room I walked him through a couple of visualization exercises. When he opened his eyes he said, "Thank you, Mama. I can do this anytime I need to find my courage."
Monday, March 16, 2009
Spring forward
I spent a couple of hours in a walled garden yesterday, my back to the sun. It was a beautiful day, a promise of spring, blue sky and warm sun.
A few minutes after I sat down, I saw a butterfly. And then I watched the lizards come out of their winter hiding places and sit, like me, backs in the sun.
My winter hiding place? Cafés and wine bars. I'm not sure how that differs much from what I do when winter is over.
We haven't changed the clocks yet. So, for a few weeks, I'm an hour closer to my friends and family in the States. Can you feel it?
A few minutes after I sat down, I saw a butterfly. And then I watched the lizards come out of their winter hiding places and sit, like me, backs in the sun.
My winter hiding place? Cafés and wine bars. I'm not sure how that differs much from what I do when winter is over.
We haven't changed the clocks yet. So, for a few weeks, I'm an hour closer to my friends and family in the States. Can you feel it?
Friday, March 13, 2009
A la carte
A gift has been handed down for generations in my family. I have not had the privilege of meeting most of those who hands held it before mine. But I have known them in my way. I have come to recognize them over time, their quiet visits to my dreams. They never participate, only witness. I feel them there, from time to time, silently guarding the histories I have sought to rewrite.
I do not know who first brought the gift into the family or even why. I could only imagine its originally intended use. Given this heirloom as a child, I did not recognize its value or understand how to make it my own.
So I used it as best I could, held it in my child's hands. Awkward and unsteady with a brave smile to reassure.
Last week, I tripped and stumbled upon the truth of that gift. I suppose I could've seen it before but my childhood vision quickly became habit, then reality, and it never occurred to me to take a second look at something that had always been there.
Despite decades of misuse, unintentional but still there, I believe its essence is still intact. I will hold it up to the light when I've finished polishing off the deposits of time and residue of my misunderstanding.
I do not know who first brought the gift into the family or even why. I could only imagine its originally intended use. Given this heirloom as a child, I did not recognize its value or understand how to make it my own.
So I used it as best I could, held it in my child's hands. Awkward and unsteady with a brave smile to reassure.
Last week, I tripped and stumbled upon the truth of that gift. I suppose I could've seen it before but my childhood vision quickly became habit, then reality, and it never occurred to me to take a second look at something that had always been there.
Despite decades of misuse, unintentional but still there, I believe its essence is still intact. I will hold it up to the light when I've finished polishing off the deposits of time and residue of my misunderstanding.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Take away
Tell me what you will remember, tell me what you will always know.
Just the shadowed outline, the context that confines. The title of each chapter of this work that is pure fiction.
So I can leave it here, to be buried in the ground. I will let time take care of the things I cannot. I will come back years from now and see what the earth has been able to do with it, the work I could not do. Listen to the stories the dirt tells about its petrification. Witness its transformation into the smoothest of river stones.
Just the shadowed outline, the context that confines. The title of each chapter of this work that is pure fiction.
So I can leave it here, to be buried in the ground. I will let time take care of the things I cannot. I will come back years from now and see what the earth has been able to do with it, the work I could not do. Listen to the stories the dirt tells about its petrification. Witness its transformation into the smoothest of river stones.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Lay me down
and tell me a story. A good one, with a queen and knights and rogues and stone tablets with the rules of the kingdom etched by a master carver's hand. Fill it with honor and integrity and universal truths. Make every character an archetype, their private tales told in a breath, resonance in the exhale.
Spin, weave, loom, entwine, curve, twist, and lace it for me.
Whisper to me and tell me to close my eyes so I can't look for the ending.
When the story is over, tell me the difference between the story you've told me and the tale you've told yourself.
Spin, weave, loom, entwine, curve, twist, and lace it for me.
Whisper to me and tell me to close my eyes so I can't look for the ending.
When the story is over, tell me the difference between the story you've told me and the tale you've told yourself.
Friday, March 06, 2009
It felt like home
For a very brief moment.
I was driving to work this morning. I stopped at a red light. I was digging through my bag for my sunglasses and then I looked up. You know I grew up in Illinois, right? So, to my left was a huge truck with bales of hay. To my right was a pick-up truck, one of those really big ones I've only seen in the States. Big and black and shiny, like the man who owns it really takes care of it. I smiled, it was odd to see those things in downtown Laval, France.
People are like that too, aren't they? You hear a voice and it's a sound that makes you feel like you've come home. And it's a sound you'd recognize anywhere, forever, no matter how long it's been since you last heard it.
Or they say something, something only they would say, and it feels so familiar, so them - even if they've never said it before, and so grounding that some part of you sighs in relief. That magnet moment when you are touched by where you are known and who knows you.
I was driving to work this morning. I stopped at a red light. I was digging through my bag for my sunglasses and then I looked up. You know I grew up in Illinois, right? So, to my left was a huge truck with bales of hay. To my right was a pick-up truck, one of those really big ones I've only seen in the States. Big and black and shiny, like the man who owns it really takes care of it. I smiled, it was odd to see those things in downtown Laval, France.
People are like that too, aren't they? You hear a voice and it's a sound that makes you feel like you've come home. And it's a sound you'd recognize anywhere, forever, no matter how long it's been since you last heard it.
Or they say something, something only they would say, and it feels so familiar, so them - even if they've never said it before, and so grounding that some part of you sighs in relief. That magnet moment when you are touched by where you are known and who knows you.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Un coup de cafard
Coup is one of those multipurpose words with many usages and just as many translations. A blow, as in un coup dur - a hard blow. A punch, as in un coup de poing - literally a blow of the fist. A gust, as in un coup de vent - a gust of wind. A kick, as in un coup de pied - of the foot.
A cafard is a cockroach.
A coup de cafard is - well, I don't really know exactly how to translate it. It's less severe than depression but more intense than a bad mood. Maybe like being down in the dumps.
Which is what I've been for the past few weeks. But I don't want to talk about that.
I want to talk about a literal coup de cafard.
It was wednesday a few weeks ago and my favorite café was closed. So I went to a different one. I sat down on a bench. Next to a cockroach. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it so I just got a tissue from my bag and grabbed the roach with it and got up to carry it to the garbage can. Which is when it jumped out of the tissue and into my bag. So, instead of being discreet about throwing a cockroach away, I had to be discreet about finding a cockroach in my bag - which, by the way, I call my Mary Poppins bag because of what it can and does contain.
I did finally find it and discreetly dispose of it.
A cafard is a cockroach.
A coup de cafard is - well, I don't really know exactly how to translate it. It's less severe than depression but more intense than a bad mood. Maybe like being down in the dumps.
Which is what I've been for the past few weeks. But I don't want to talk about that.
I want to talk about a literal coup de cafard.
It was wednesday a few weeks ago and my favorite café was closed. So I went to a different one. I sat down on a bench. Next to a cockroach. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it so I just got a tissue from my bag and grabbed the roach with it and got up to carry it to the garbage can. Which is when it jumped out of the tissue and into my bag. So, instead of being discreet about throwing a cockroach away, I had to be discreet about finding a cockroach in my bag - which, by the way, I call my Mary Poppins bag because of what it can and does contain.
I did finally find it and discreetly dispose of it.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Urban myth revealed to be true
The Ikea in Rennes actually exists.
I went there this weekend.
Of course, I went with a very specific (and short) list of things I wanted (2).
Of course, I spent the double of what I had intended to and came home with items (5) that were not on my list.
On the upside, I'm very pleased with everything I bought.
On the downside, heavy dining room tables are best assembled in good (read: strong) company, not alone. I put it together without much difficulty, although I did realize that I need a new philips screwdriver, but turning it right side up was a huge (read: heavy) pain in the ass.
I went there this weekend.
Of course, I went with a very specific (and short) list of things I wanted (2).
Of course, I spent the double of what I had intended to and came home with items (5) that were not on my list.
On the upside, I'm very pleased with everything I bought.
On the downside, heavy dining room tables are best assembled in good (read: strong) company, not alone. I put it together without much difficulty, although I did realize that I need a new philips screwdriver, but turning it right side up was a huge (read: heavy) pain in the ass.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Under construction
Phase one - We had some roofing issues. I don't know what to say. This is also where we see that prisons aren't always of our own making. Sometimes the strings are being pulled tight and tied from the outside.
Phase two - Who knew that buttercream icing was a food group? Or that chocolate covered almonds could replace shingles?
Believe it or not, they say they're not finished decorating it.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Did anyone else hear this?
The woman who's on the cover of the Sport's Illustrated swimsuit issue said, as a result of doing said cover, that she felt like she was a part of history.
She said that.
"I feel like I'm a part of history."
History? Really?
You know me, I'm all about the rainbows and sandcastles, so I won't go into a rant about economic crisis this or gloom and doom that, but come on, history?
Of course, all the men out there are going to think I'm jealous because I'm not on the cover. And you're right, I am, but only because I could totally pay off my student loans with the paycheck for a cover like that. And I'd have plenty left over to get a new car and make a down payment on a house and go home to the States for a visit.
Anyone out there got anything a little more historical we could talk about today?
She said that.
"I feel like I'm a part of history."
History? Really?
You know me, I'm all about the rainbows and sandcastles, so I won't go into a rant about economic crisis this or gloom and doom that, but come on, history?
Of course, all the men out there are going to think I'm jealous because I'm not on the cover. And you're right, I am, but only because I could totally pay off my student loans with the paycheck for a cover like that. And I'd have plenty left over to get a new car and make a down payment on a house and go home to the States for a visit.
Anyone out there got anything a little more historical we could talk about today?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
And speaking of working on a building
It's school vacation again. The boys don't have school this week or next. They're with me this week - I don't have classes either so we're sleeping late and reading a lot and have finally undertaken to complete (and start) the gingerbread house.
We baked off the four walls and the roof pieces yesterday. Today will be dedicated to assembly and decoration. Think buttercream icing and candies.
And then think about what my house smells like.
Sugar and spice. Exactly that. Molasses and ginger.
Boy2 was concerned that we weren't doing this at the right time of year - Christmas being past. I told him it's still winter and gingerbread houses are a winter thing, not necessarily a Christmas thing. Which he readily accepted as a good rationale. Especially considering that the only other option was to wait until next Christmas. When I offered that as an (unlikely) alternative, he said, "Are you kidding me? No way."
We baked off the four walls and the roof pieces yesterday. Today will be dedicated to assembly and decoration. Think buttercream icing and candies.
And then think about what my house smells like.
Sugar and spice. Exactly that. Molasses and ginger.
Boy2 was concerned that we weren't doing this at the right time of year - Christmas being past. I told him it's still winter and gingerbread houses are a winter thing, not necessarily a Christmas thing. Which he readily accepted as a good rationale. Especially considering that the only other option was to wait until next Christmas. When I offered that as an (unlikely) alternative, he said, "Are you kidding me? No way."
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
On my purple ipod - Cowboys
Lorraine posted this tag and I liked it, mainly for the same reasons she did, using that swirly thing is very nice. So you put your ipod or whatever on shuffle and then you push the next button for the answer to each question.
1. What do your friends think of you?
Le monde, Thievery Corporation
2. If someone says, "Is this ok?" you say?
Working on a building, Cowboy Junkies
3. How would you describe yourself?
Starfish, Sister Hazel
4. What do you like in a guy?
Statesboro blues, The Allman Brothers Band
5. What's your life's purpose?
Three, Massive Attack
6. What's your motto?
End theme, Morcheeba
7. What do you think about very often?
American baby, Dave Matthews Band
8. What is 2+2?
All the way to Reno, REM
9. What do you think of your best friend?
3 doors down, Citizen Solider
10. What is your life story?
A beautiful mess, Jason Mraz. (No joke.)
11. What do you think of when you see the person you love?
Shimmer, Fuel
12. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Open your eyes, Snow Patrol
13. What will they play at your funeral?
Shake it, Metro Station
14. What's your hobby/interest?
Take it to the limit, The Eagles
15. What's your biggest fear?
I'm not waiting, Chris Isaak
16. What's your biggest secret?
'Round Midnight, Ella Fitzgerald
17. What do you think of your friends?
All the right friends, REM
18. Title of this post?
Cowboys, Portishead
1. What do your friends think of you?
Le monde, Thievery Corporation
2. If someone says, "Is this ok?" you say?
Working on a building, Cowboy Junkies
3. How would you describe yourself?
Starfish, Sister Hazel
4. What do you like in a guy?
Statesboro blues, The Allman Brothers Band
5. What's your life's purpose?
Three, Massive Attack
6. What's your motto?
End theme, Morcheeba
7. What do you think about very often?
American baby, Dave Matthews Band
8. What is 2+2?
All the way to Reno, REM
9. What do you think of your best friend?
3 doors down, Citizen Solider
10. What is your life story?
A beautiful mess, Jason Mraz. (No joke.)
11. What do you think of when you see the person you love?
Shimmer, Fuel
12. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Open your eyes, Snow Patrol
13. What will they play at your funeral?
Shake it, Metro Station
14. What's your hobby/interest?
Take it to the limit, The Eagles
15. What's your biggest fear?
I'm not waiting, Chris Isaak
16. What's your biggest secret?
'Round Midnight, Ella Fitzgerald
17. What do you think of your friends?
All the right friends, REM
18. Title of this post?
Cowboys, Portishead
Monday, February 09, 2009
On that one random shelf in the closet
After the shiny promises you've made yourself, filed neatly next to the nevers carved in perfect polished stone you've given yourself, facing the truths you've spared yourself, you run into what is, shaking your head as you do so, because how could you have missed it? It is so big, what is, so genuine. You think it might be heartbreaking but you hold your breath for a second when you instantly know that what is more heartbreaking is the elaborate tale you told yourself and the energy wasted looking for what is real somewhere other than on that shelf, the one lined with flowered contact paper, where you put it so long ago.
What's the craziest thing you've got in your closet?
What's the craziest thing you've got in your closet?
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
On not knowing how the story ends
It snowed here today. For quite a while. Big, fat, fluffy flakes from maybe 10 until maybe noon or so. It was dark and snowy and swirly and windy.
And now, at 5:22 pm, it's sunny and quiet and there's not a trace, literally, of what happened this morning.
How often does that happen? How often is the only trace left behind the one you see in your mind's eye?
And now, at 5:22 pm, it's sunny and quiet and there's not a trace, literally, of what happened this morning.
How often does that happen? How often is the only trace left behind the one you see in your mind's eye?
Monday, February 02, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Enough
No more run away weeks, because those just turn into run away months and then half the year's gone by and you wonder how that happened without your consent.
I had a lovely weekend. The boys and I went out for apéritif on Friday evening. I took them to a little restaurant/bar not far from our house and I drank red wine and ate olives and saucisson sec while they drank water and ate chicken wings and saucisson sec. We sat on a lovely couch and talked about our day. And no one told me I couldn't sit that close to the bar because I was with the kids and it's non-smoking here now so no one called child protection services on me either. I love that about this country.
Saturday we spent the night with friends and Sunday was lazy all the way around. Nothing run away about it.
This morning, as I was getting all my school stuff out of the back of my car, I noticed a plastic bag full of something. Fearing the worst (forgotten groceries or something horrible like that), I carefully opened it. 12 bags of chocolate covered hazelnut toffee that I had made at Christmas and forgotten to give away. I tasted it, it's still good, so I'm giving a bag of toffee to everyone who crosses my path today.
I had a lovely weekend. The boys and I went out for apéritif on Friday evening. I took them to a little restaurant/bar not far from our house and I drank red wine and ate olives and saucisson sec while they drank water and ate chicken wings and saucisson sec. We sat on a lovely couch and talked about our day. And no one told me I couldn't sit that close to the bar because I was with the kids and it's non-smoking here now so no one called child protection services on me either. I love that about this country.
Saturday we spent the night with friends and Sunday was lazy all the way around. Nothing run away about it.
This morning, as I was getting all my school stuff out of the back of my car, I noticed a plastic bag full of something. Fearing the worst (forgotten groceries or something horrible like that), I carefully opened it. 12 bags of chocolate covered hazelnut toffee that I had made at Christmas and forgotten to give away. I tasted it, it's still good, so I'm giving a bag of toffee to everyone who crosses my path today.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The run-away week
This week has totally gotten away from me. Boy2 got the flu on Sunday so I had to cancel all my classes Monday. And I didn't have any classes Tuesday and I don't work on Wednesdays since the boys don't have school. I had big, fancy plans for all of those days. Said big, fancy plans didn't really manifest in the way I was hoping.
So when I walked into work on Thursday morning, I asked everyone how their weekend was. Common responses included:
- That was a while ago.
- I'm already planning this weekend, I hardly remember last weekend.
- Huh?
In other work related news, the heater at work is broken. It's very cold. Not quite as my house was when my heater broke, but close. I really need a new coat.
So when I walked into work on Thursday morning, I asked everyone how their weekend was. Common responses included:
- That was a while ago.
- I'm already planning this weekend, I hardly remember last weekend.
- Huh?
In other work related news, the heater at work is broken. It's very cold. Not quite as my house was when my heater broke, but close. I really need a new coat.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Let's talk about the weather
It has been really cold here. I mean really cold. Much colder than it usually gets and certainly much colder than it usually stays. -6°C? That's like 20°F or something like that. That's colder than I've had to deal with since I moved away from Illinois. Which was a long time ago.
You'd think though, having grown up in the midwest, that I'd be all cold proof. Not so. Even less so when things like heaters break. You kind of get used to not having to deal with lasting cold. I won't say I've missed it. But I won't say I hate it either. It just takes a while to get used to it.
Better equipment would help. Double paned windows. Warmer shoes. Coats that are meant only to keep you warm, not to be pretty. I wore a very warm (read: not pretty) coat to school the other day. My students - the guys - all made remarks. Along the lines of, "Well, at least you're warm." Nice.
The freezing walk across the river to the café is nice though. Parts of it are frozen, unexpected and beautiful.
You'd think though, having grown up in the midwest, that I'd be all cold proof. Not so. Even less so when things like heaters break. You kind of get used to not having to deal with lasting cold. I won't say I've missed it. But I won't say I hate it either. It just takes a while to get used to it.
Better equipment would help. Double paned windows. Warmer shoes. Coats that are meant only to keep you warm, not to be pretty. I wore a very warm (read: not pretty) coat to school the other day. My students - the guys - all made remarks. Along the lines of, "Well, at least you're warm." Nice.
The freezing walk across the river to the café is nice though. Parts of it are frozen, unexpected and beautiful.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Breathless
From interviewing 40 students over the past two days - part of their midterms.
From the horrible bronchitis my petri dish children gave me.
From running around this week trying to get the house back in order after the out of orderliness brought about my the no-heat for four days thing while taking care of very sick children and very sick self and interviewing those 40 students.
Yes, I know, deep breathing would help. But every time I take a deep breath I cough.
From the horrible bronchitis my petri dish children gave me.
From running around this week trying to get the house back in order after the out of orderliness brought about my the no-heat for four days thing while taking care of very sick children and very sick self and interviewing those 40 students.
Yes, I know, deep breathing would help. But every time I take a deep breath I cough.
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