how does it go?

I am sitting here, husband gone to his world of science and validation. I love the space and I love him.

Downside Up

New Zealand. New Zeal.
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Zip and Peal
Careening Caravan.
lego lands
Mermaid Flirtation
and boiled potatoes for dinner.

Life Gardening

Grafting Hope


Grafting something is defined by Webster's online dictionary as:
“Cause to grow together parts from different plants.”
If plants can be grafted and skin is grafted, can other less tangible attributes be established through a sort of spiritual grafting? Can we hunt down what we need externally and plant a little bit of it onto our self and nurture it until it is part of us, alive and helping us further forward?
Some might argue that such a practice is unnatural and thus, should be avoided; One must find what one needs within themselves.
I am, however, considering it can be done.
If a sturdy stock can feed a new desirable branch and fruit, then who's to say we can't graft things we need into our lives, like hope, confidence,and forgiveness. These things can be hard to sprout from seed, particularly when there is a tangled crop of things already growing, competing for our attention and energy.
What a great tool to carry. Just think, if something stirs up envy like someone else's success, gift or attribute, don't get jealous-just take a little cutting! Perhaps write it down so you remember what it is you are growing, have a grafting ritual, if you think it will help- maybe even every day for a while. Good crops take attention.

Another definition is “To implant a portion of (living flesh or akin) in a lesion so as to form an organic union.” (Websters) I like this definition because it talks about putting something specifically on a wound or lesion. Each human has challenges of some sort or another, wounds are part of the show, here on earth. Just as the irritation of a foreign body in the oyster makes a pearl, so can the wound be a place to graft something intentional and beautiful.
So go forth and garden, make your life an interesting and fruitful orchard, there's plenty.
There is Plenty!

Waking up Chocolate funny

I am beginning to feel like writing again. I have had seasons within myself and now I am unzipping a door. I sit here in my dark dining room with the sounds of Gem (the big young terrier- labradoodle) gnawing on something and the wind wrangling the trees outside. Please leave some trees for tomorrow, breathy god. Karekare is so untamed. The sooner I get that in my head, and accept it, the better I am. It's not a tranquil place to spend the spring (or winter or fall) It is vigorous and persist ant. Rain splatters on the windows that face the west, maybe it's salty from the Tasman sea below our house. Maybe it is some sort of seasoning the earth wants me to have.
Let's keep her up with the wind and pelt her with salty rain until she's tender and seasoned. I'm getting there.
I just returned from a trip back to the United States. I sold my delicious car, a pearl shaped and colored Borgward Issabella and a few culinary tools to finance the trip. My mission was to see if San Juan Island still felt like home, to give my home there some much needed attention (it's been rented out for four years)and also, quite importantly, to introduce my children to their extended family. They have spent four years in New Zealand and although we are happy to have had a hand full of guests, including two sets of grandparents, they have been out of the loop on cousins and aunts and uncles. This became apparent when I had to explain the definition of Aunt and Uncle to them at 6 and 7 years old. The trip was a team building one and I found myself intermittently choked up with reverence for the little dears and wondering how to humanely sedate them. Desmond and Lillian have a bond that somehow gives them latitude to be painfully honest, refreshingly allied and fiercely opposed, (all in the space of five minutes, sometimes) I had to pull them apart (and remove claws) after Lillian called Desmond's sweater "girls" or when Desmond started sputtering with clenched fists, not liking the way Lillian was using the flat airport escalator as an exercise treadmill, staying stationary (come to think of it no one on the escalator liked that routine) The moods and charm moved like mercury and I got better at diversion rather than logical conflict resolution. One day, I was in the library using the computer. (An accident with my computer early in the trip had snuffed out my new lap top.) Lillian, playing in the chidren's section, became quite restless. I told her to go pick out some books to check out. I was trying to fully utilize my half hour slot of time online. All was well for a while until I started to hear an argument. I only heard the librarian, not Lil, she was quiet ans resolute that the 40 or so books she had picked out were all necessary and would certainly be acceptable to her mother. I ignored the conversation as long as I could. Lillian started shuttling her selection of books over to me in several lots. We sat next to a pretty tolerant woman, negotiating about the cache of books. The woman finally looked at me and advised me that some expert once told her it can be fruitless (and inadvisable) to reason with your child in some circumstances. Thank You. Reducing the books down to even 20 was a process too loud for my comfort in such a hushy space.

I had some renovations in mind for the house. It needed a new deck in the back and the bathroom needed to be revamped, Jordan (pleasingly) procured some funds and a volunteer to help with the project. Justin, Jordan's stepfather offered to come and help for two weeks. This was an exceptional opportunity for affordable progress and some family connection. I had never spent any time on my own with Justin and it seemed a little nervy at first, but in the end, it turned out to be a great visit (and very productive, too) Justin got put through the test by the kids. One day I had to go to the mainland to get some materials. Justin told me he thought he could get plenty of work done while he watched the kids. Hmmm, I wondered, what will they try and get away with under those circumstances? Lillian, with her bird dog nose for sugar, found her hidden collection of pinata candy as well as a big bag of gummy worms. And let the wild rumpus begin! Justin seemed a little shell shocked when he told me the story. I just patted him on the shoulder and said, "If that's the least of your worries, your doing just fine." I feared they had burst his bubble though. Justin was a wonderful Grandad and gave the kids a chance to do some 'important' jobs to help with the remodel. He was a damn fine father in law, as well. We had plenty of good conversations about our own challenges and delights.