October 14, 2014

The sheet had dislocated from the foot of the bed and so I was constantly entangled myself in it as I slept.  This drives me mad, but as long as the sky outside is painted black and the hum of Life is at a silent whisper, I’m ok with a little madness.  Up again at my usual 5:13 for yoga…still so sore..calves the focal point of pain today.  As stretching ended and the poses began, I realized how beneficial these were and I should have done them yesterday….  Shoulda shoulda.  I should all over myself a lot.  I’m slowing down…the nights come earlier, my body stops.  It’s ok.  Happens every fall, and for nights when I have class, there’s a coffee for that.

Class had an easy feel to it today..nice and smooth, just as I like them.  Was in touch with my Maggie, who spent the day at home for illness, day 2.  She said she felt better after she threw up.  There ya go, girl.  I am proud of my kids.  They can take care themselves and I allow them that gift.  Working at Madrone for my Montessori degree, I was able to realize the true capabilities of children and HOW much we take away from them by teaching them (so often) helplessness and dependency.  Mags later texted that she wanted to cook a full dinner…by all means, girlie!  Steph and I listened to Game 3 of the NLCS – thrilled the Giants were ahead by 4 in the first inning, not thrilled that the Cards were up by 3 before class let out.  Soon, it was tied.  Awhellnoooo.

Picked up Ethan and his friend and headed home.   Wispy clouds began making their way towards the foothills; forecast predicts rain tomorrow, but I can only dream.  I miss  stormy days.  Mags was asleep when we arrived, so I cozied up in bed and listened to the last of the game as Steph and I texted about work.  Finally, a walk-off run won the game, so we are up by two.  These Giants and their stressors.  Gawddd.  My throats hurts again. 

Best thing in a long time:  I got in touch with someone from long, long ago in Switzerland..a very special Italian gentlemen who  has always had a place in my heart.  Glad to be in touch again.xx

*I really wanted to delete this next part and write about something else, because this becomes SO mundane for me…I am the broken record player.  I really AM so tired of this, but more so, I am tired and thus it stays.

Warning: Self-reflection/analytical section:  I’ve been searching…well, everyone knows that, but this time it is specific - for the moment.  I bought a signed Ferlinghetti book about a year ago at City Lights,  in a desperate attempt to hold onto the San Francisco I never knew, but know, in my soul, that I’m a part of (in some disjointed, magical-thinking way).  I looked everywhere, because I knew that I purchased it, I remember talking with the sales clerk. I knew it was there.


**I did delete it.  Sometimes I pour too much of my heart out.

Pictures:  An inscription in one of my old books...this is the romantic world my head lives in; Ferlinghetti's John Hancock; A poetry bookshelf; My religion/spiritual bookshelf