small hands

It's a holiday.

Nevertheless, we woke up this morning at 7:30AM. A crow is dying in my yard, so it was cawing. Which summoned two more crows who joined in. Creating quite a racket.

The dying crow sat on the ground on the side of the house, not moving even when twice a cat walked past it.

The healthy crows sat on my house or on the wires above the house, cawing.

So my usual 30 to 45 minutes of morning peace before my children wake up, when I make coffee, sew, read the newspaper, start a load of laundry, or check out my plants, was eliminated. My kids got up immediately, my girl to complain to me about the noise.

I called animal control to come and get the dying crow, but it's a holiday, so there was no answer. Not even voicemail.

Later, after we placed chicken in a marinade for grilling this afternoon, we went to Rockridge Long's Drugs and picked up an iron and a small ironing board for my girl, which she needs because she sews, bamboo to make a trellis for a climbing rose outside my study window, twine, a parachute guy for my son, and ice cream.

Then we returned and had lunch. My son lay down on a blanket to watch cartoons and I thought he would nod off, as this would have been his naptime if he were at his preschool. No such luck.



Saturday the weather was absolutely gorgeous.

My boy didn't want to go with his father, then he changed his mind and was happy to go. I was relieved, because I had a therapy appointment and I haven't had a weekend away from my guy for 7 weekends.

I went to my appointment and then went to Andronicos. A nice man at the fish counter, with a gold tooth in front just like my grandfather used to have, retrieved a rainbow trout from the back for me. I also got some Acme bread and some spinach dip.

Then I walked across the street and bought a half a pound of beans from Peets. I got a free cup of House Blend, which I couldn't finish.

I ate the baguette and the spinach dip in the car, on the way to the library to pick up another book on tape. Then I went home and quilted and gardened for the rest of the day.

In the evening I prepared the trout--simmered in salted water with sliced ginger and chives from my herb garden.

I prepared a sauce of vinegar, soy sauce, Chinese wine and ginger, which was excellent. It really woke up my taste buds.

I ate the trout with steamed Japanese rice and sauteed spinach.

I could never have cooked a fish with a head on it in front of my children. The cries of outrage would have been too much.

What an exhausting 24 hours.

I went to my daughter's Open House last night. It was cool, but it's very taxing to have to go to something like that at 7:00 PM after a full day of work.

The kids have done a lot of good work this school year, all on display.

I talked to a mom I'm friendly with, whose soon-to-be-ex I've blogged about before. She told me what a total creep he is and how she had to sell their house and move. Her sweet son is not going to be in my girl's class next year, which is really sad.

I heard praise from my girl's science teacher about her sweet nature. She loves the twice-weekly science class in its own fancy pants science lab. I am glad she has had a happy initiation to science.

I love her school library, too. If I went to the school, I'd probably never leave the library.

The kids' dad brought them to the Open House and as I expected my boy wanted to come home with me. I said that was fine, but we had to get up extra early because I had to be in court at 8:30.

He took my hand and home we went, where I had a late dinner of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and we watched some of this movie. My little guy slept quite well; I slept less well.

In the night it rained and thoroughly soaked the grass and plants. Yay.

We got a late-ish start in the morning and I got to court 10 minutes late. No problem; the judge had a packed docket so my matter wasn't up yet.

I sat next to a colleague I hadn't seen in a while and we visited. After our hearings, we walked through the halls in the courthouse and caught up. She is a very nice woman and I really admire her legal abilities. I wish we could work together.

She encouraged me to seek a promotion in my office. It's complicated. It's not the other promotion that I've blogged about before, but a bigger one, and I think I'll go for it.

I got some coffee between hearings and then went back for the second one.

The second one was wild. The opposing counsel is a lawyer I have absolutely the lowest opinion of out of all the lawyers I've ever dealt with. We got into a shouting match in front of the judge, who then had a private word with me. I apologized to the judge and said that this lawyer drives me crazy. He said he drives everyone crazy.

Then he advised me how to handle the case in a really cool way, asked me what's going on in my office, and gave me a lot of really good advice.

It was a terrific experience.

Then I returned to work, where I had to get a very important brief written and filed by
3:00 PM. My computer had a freaking nervous breakdown and I had to work in D.'s old office to get it done. But I got it done. Whew.

Now I can enjoy the weekend. Quilting, grilling, unbraiding my hair, reading.

Yesterday, as I was picking up my boy, I started talking to another mom, whose daughter had a birthday party a few weeks back that my little guy thoroughly enjoyed.

My daughter stood beside me as we talked, creating a Jacob's ladder from string, which she had just learned during after school care from a third grader.*

The other mom asked what work I do and I told her and she said "I'm a lawyer too." She does trusts and estate litigation for a big firm in Oakland. Somehow the conversation worked its way around to her encouraging me to think about working in the private sector again.

What she doesn't realize is that I haven't forgotten how terrible it was. The billable hours, the emphasis on rain making, the racism, the sexism. I haven't forgotten, though it has been over 10 years since I was working at a private firm.

That evening at 9:00 PM, the phone rang and it was my girl's father. He was calling to let her know that he was bringing over materials so that she could complete a model of the Arc de Triomphe due today.

I was very troubled that she was working on a project at the last minute. I had no idea about it in advance. I printed up a picture of it for her and she got started after he dropped the stuff off.

I was doubtful that she would pull it off, but I kept my doubt to myself. This morning I cut some of the material for her and then got everyone dressed and ready to go while she put it together. And she did a fine job.

Thank you for the movie suggestions. I have seen the Three Colors Krzysztof Kieslowski series and loved it, Antonia's Line and Amelie.

I will check out the others.



* A great, exalted, older girl.

I stayed up late last night.

Well, late for me anyway; until 10:00 PM.

After my daughter was born, I could not stay up past 8:30 PM, because I was so depleted from the pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding, and I was working and commuting 40+ hours per week.

It was the same way after my son was born, 4 years later. People would talk about television shows that came on at 10:00 PM, and I couldn't imagine staying up so late--until 11:00 PM? How?

Then again, I've never been a party girl or night owl.

Last night I watched 21 Grams, which I rented from my neighborhood rental store.

As I blogged previously, I'm trying to watch more movies, although it's difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff, there being so much chaff these days.

WARNING: POSSIBLE SPOILERS



While I watched the movie, I questioned repeatedly whether I should, since the death of a child is usually a deal breaker for me. But I figured that I could take it.

I can't say that I liked the movie. I expected a strong performance from Sean Penn, and it's always a pleasure to see Benicio Del Toro (those lips), but the premise was very contrived. And Sean Penn was not that good.

The DVD that I rented had no bonus features, where the filmmakers explain what's going on. I wanted them to explain themselves!

While I watched the movie, I pieced together my next quilt. It is a complex pattern, but the fabric I am using is beautiful and I loved sewing with it.

The DVD was due back at the rental store by 11:00 PM, so I went out to return it around 9:30. I had a Netfl.ix moment as I unlocked my car, where I thought that if I belonged to Netfl.ix I wouldn't have had to go out. But there is no way I consume or could consume $20 worth of movies every month.

Not in the summer, when there's grilling to do, yard work, housekeeping, and going to bed at 9:00 PM.

Yesterday was very good.

I dropped the kids off at school and preschool and went to work. I had a ton of stuff to do and only the morning to do it. I finished the tasks my secretary was breathing down my neck to get done and then I returned home to wait for the dryer repair person.

While I was waiting, I ate some penne carbonara and watched a tape of this week's Sopranos. Oh.My.God.

Then I started foundation piecing my next quilt, mostly to get a sense of how to do foundation piecing. My spatial sense is not very good at all. I have to try very hard to visualize how something will fit with something else, and how to do so in reverse. It was fun, though.

The repair person was the not-obnoxious one from last week's visit, and he worked quickly, without discernable cologne.

I watered the yard, then dropped off the Sopranos tape for my mom on the way to pick up my boy. He was very happy to be picked up early. We got my girl and went to the grocery store on the way home.

Once we got home I lit the grill and barbecued chicken which had been marinating since the night before in a teriyaki marinade that I got from this cookbook. The chicken was superb. The back yard is very clean, which made all my hard work on the weekend worth the effort.

My girl helped me make individual apple galettes from this terrific cookbook, which turned out well, but the recipe could be improved upon. Most apple pie/galette recipes don't call for enough sugar. This one didn't either. And now I know I have to prepare the crust in the morning so that it can be refrigerated and sufficiently chilled. I am looking forward to trying it again. It was still good, as is almost everything with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.

My girl standing beside me slicing apples reminded me of helping my mother cook. And I recognized that the reason I helped my mother cook was so that I could spend time with her separate from my (then-four, later six) other siblings, who were not the least bit interested in cooking.

My girl wants time with me separate from her brother, who is in an obnoxious phase right now, that we're trying to guide him through. So while we prepared the galettes, he ran around with his squirt gun trying to squirt flies.

We had dinner at the dining room table, lighting candles to lure my boy to the table.

After dinner I cleaned up the kitchen and hung out with the kids.

Being able to start dinner an hour earlier really opens up the evening and I can enjoy it without being so tired from a full day's work.

My mother called me to discuss the Sopranos, but my son didn't let me stay on the phone very long. We both agreed: Wow.

I'm eating penne carbonara for lunch, with a very big glass of cranberry juice and selzer to drink.

I've worked in the yard for two days with my kids interfering, bickering and helping, and then calling for me to assist them back in the house.

It's finally completed, all the weeding and fertilizing, mowing, pruning and sweeping, and cleaning bird crap and a winter's worth of dust off my patio furniture.

The pleasure was outweighed by the toil this time. Oh well.

The wind has died down, which is great. Even though it's cloudy, at least it's not blowing so much.

Yesterday I took my girl to a birthday party at a house near the Cal stadium. An incredible house, three stories, brown shingled. Someone next door was grilling and it smelled wonderful.

My boy is having a whining Mardi Gras this weekend. Help me Lord.

Well the computer network at my job is all jacked up, so I can surf the internet and blog, but I can't get any work done. Woe.Is.Me.

I've noticed for a while that my cooking drive (like one's sex drive) is down. I'm just not excited about cooking. And dovetailing* into that is that I've been getting into various food ruts--like a bagel for dinner when I don't have kids, or biscotti and coffee for breakfast every single morning for days on end. Ruts kinda kill one's cooking drive.

So I'm trying to get out of it. Because I notice that my palate is a bit dull too. When I go to a nice (really nice) restaurant, the food is good, but it's not orgasmic. Unless it's got crumbled blue cheese on it. The other day, I was having lunch with my bud R. and I had a small salad (very basic: iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and thousand island dressing) and I had a burger on a baguette with blue cheese on top. Now that was an excellent lunch. You know how different parts of the tongue taste different flavors? Well, there was something for every part of my tongue.

Though, if I went back the next day and had the same thing, and the day after that, and the day after that, it wouldn't be so special.

Anyway, I'm forcing myself to open my recipe binders, and if nothing strikes my fancy, I just close my eyes and pick something, take it out of the binder, buy the ingredients and make it any damn way.

Because one thing about cooking drive is, when you don't feel like it, if you do it anyway, part of the way through it gets to be fun. And the payoff is pretty groovy if you put in a bit of attention and effort.

Wish me luck.

The weather around here is windy and overcast. And after last weekend, I am so over wind.

This weekend I have my sweet children and we're going to vegetate, shop for fabric, go to a birthday party, go to a play, and vegetate some more.

Remember the motion the writing of which made me think I had broken my brain? Granted. Case dismissed. I rock. My clients think I rock. No trial in July. Wa hoo.

The hearing for the motion was pretty wild because the judge told me he wasn't going to grant the motion. But I started talking, and he leaned forward and listened to me and asked very good questions, and the attorney on the other side made a fatal admission, and I walked out of the courtroom feeling pretty good. Such a big brain on that judge.

Remember the promotion I asked for? Well, I looked at the salary chart and guess how much more I would be paid per year. Go ahead, guess. Eighty bucks. Let's see...how much dry cleaning is that? How many bridge tolls?

*Have I ever mentioned that I've taken three woodworking classes at adult school and built actual pieces of furniture? It was before I had children and could go to a class for 8 Saturdays in a row. Dovetailing is a woodworking term.

Penne with vodka tomato cream sauce

Medium onion
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 14 oz can of sliced tomatoes (drained)
1/4 cup of vodka
1 cup of heavy whipping cream
Red pepper flakes
8 ounces of penne

Place penne in boiling, salted water with a splash of oil. Cook until al dente or to your taste.

In a medium sized sauce pan over medium heat, heat butter and olive oil. Chop onion and saute in oil and butter, until translucent, approximately 6 minutes. Add drained tomatoes and saute until the liquid has mostly evaporated, approximately 15 minutes. Stir in vodka, heavy cream and red pepper flakes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Reduce for approximately 6 minutes, until sauce has thickened. Add penne to the sauce and mix together. Serve.

Yesterday I got out of a mediation earlier than I expected, so I went home and changed clothes, cut my front lawn, weeded, and planted some sweet pea seedlings. Then I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things and then retrieved my kids from school.

My girl mentioned on the way home that my chicken hasn't been as flavorful as she would like and could she help me cook dinner. Of course my first thought was how it's funny how love works, when your child can say something to which you don't react negatively, that any other person would get a beat down for. Talking about my cooking, shoot.

So I made the following recipe, with great care and attention ('cause my cooking cred was on the line), and she ate three plates of it. My boy just picked at it and when I asked him if he didn't like it, he said "I did like it, but I ate a lot of food at my preschool today, so I'm not hungry." That was cool with me.

Chicken and Rice with Ginger, Soy Sauce and Scallions

1 chicken (3 to 3-1/2 pounds), rinsed, patted dry, and cut into 8 pieces
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh gingerroot
1-1/2 cups long grain or medium grain white rice or basmati rice
1 cup chopped canned tomatoes, plus 1/2 cup packing liquid
1/2 cup white wine
2 tablespoons soy sauce*
1/4 cup chopped scallions

1. Season the chicken liberally with salt and pepper.** Heat the oil in a heavy Dutch oven over medium high heat. When the oil is hot, add the chicken parts, skin side down, and brown, turning several times, until very dark, about 12 minutes. Remove the chicken to a bowl and pour off all but 2 tablespoons of the fat from the pot.

2. Lower the heat to medium. Add the onion and cook, stirring frequently, until softened, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the garlic and ginger and continue to cook for 1 minute. Stir in the rice and cook, stirring, for an additional minute. Add the tomatoes and their liquid, the wine, and 2 cups of water. Scrape the bottom of the pot with a wooden spoon to loosen any browned bits.

3. Add back the chicken thighs and legs (the breasts will be added later), and bring to a boil. Cover the pot and simmer gently for 15 minutes. Add the chicken breasts, stir ingredients gently so that the rice is thoroughly mixed, cover, and continue to cook for 10 to 15 minutes, or until the rice is done. Stir in the soy sauce and scallions and set aside, covered, for 5 minutes. Serve immediately.

* I used 4 tablespoons.

**This is important. I used salt and pepper and I sprinkled a fair amount on both sides of each piece of meat.

While I was cooking, my son played with water balloons in the back yard and my girl did her homework. No, she didn't help me cook.

now if you are a novice to this camping thing, you sure did fool me.

I'm actually not a novice, thanks to my mother. After my parents divorced, my mother decided to go and do as much as possible with no money. So we went on camping trips, because they're pretty inexpensive. We spent a lot of time in Yosemite, and in the Sierra foothills, and one memorable summer desert camping around the Grand Canyon and Lake Havasu.

Camping has come a long way since I was a kid--better tents, better gear--and is much more comfortable these days.

As long as you are not too close to loud people, big motor homes, or unpleasant smells, it's manageable.

And coastal camping means no mosquitoes. It's way too windy and cold.

I am so impressed with how much face time with your ex you put up with for your kids.

Thanks for the props. It's not easy, but the good thing is that I don't have to listen to his b.s. and can walk away from him if I need to. And I get to leave when I want to, instead of having to check with him and negotiate it.

We politely ignore each other, which we did in the last part of our marriage. But this time, there's no one looking askance at our lack of interaction.

* * *

Friday I took a deposition in a wrongful death case. A completely bogus wrongful death case.

I was sitting at the conference table before we got started, beside the co-defense attorney who was going to be taking the lead. We were talking about surnames and it came up that the other attorney is divorced and went back to using her maiden name. I said that I am divorced too, but I kept my hyphenated last name because my children want me to have the same last name as they have.

It was a little strange, divulging such personal information in that setting, but I didn't feel the same degree of reticence that I usually feel in saying that I'm divorced.

Later on the same attorney and I had lunch together, mostly so we could hoot about the deposition testimony we got, and she asked me if I wanted to remarry. I said that I didn't. She said that she did want to remarry, but she wanted to marry a rich man, and not another alcoholic doctor, which she said she had a talent for attracting. I thought it was a little strange, the desire for a rich man, since she's probably got plenty of money of her own. But it's good to know what you want, I guess. And what you don't want.

In the afternoon, the person giving the testimony described a domestic life that I found nightmarish. That kind of stuff gets into my psyche and it takes me days to get it processed back out.

Yesterday my boy's preschool was closed, so I went to a court appearance while he chilled in my office with my secretary, and then we hung out at home the rest of the day. It was too windy to plant my sweet pea seedlings, but maybe tonight, now that the wind has died down.

Part of the time we waited for the dryer repair person to show up. He finally arrived and brought a lot of bad (egotistical, overbearing, nasty cologne) energy into my house. I had to open the windows and cook a good meal to get rid of it.

The dryer is half-way fixed and usable, but he has to return next Monday to finish the job.

* * *

If you read this transcript you will see that being raised by a perfectionist makes you crazy.

We're just back from a second grade camping trip to the coast.

We were at Salt Point State Park, past Guernville and Fort Ross, above Bodega Bay.

We left Friday afternoon, after a daylong deposition which can only be described as psychadelic.

The drive was challenging once we got to Highway 1, because it's coastal, twisting and turning, and my girl got carsick. We pulled over to the shoulder and I gave her a chewable Drammamine. That made her feel better. Though we left the Bay Area at 4:00, we didn't get to the campground until 7:45.

We rolled in and got out of the car and the wind was amazing. Shocking. Unexpected. Unrelenting. Neverthless, we got the tent I borrowed from D. set up, talked to some parents who were huddled around fires, and then went to bed relatively early. My girl was very drowsy from the Drammamine, otherwise she would have wanted to run around with her friends.

It blew all night. The air mattress--also borrowed from D.--deflated during the night and I woke up with sore hips. My girl had to pee, so we trekked to the restrooms, then my boy wet the bed sleeping bag, so I had to get him a change of clothes from the car and change him. But we cuddled together and did fine.

The next day we got up and hiked down to the beach to look at tide pools. I was in a party with a dad who is like me, a worrier/hectorer who kept a close eye on my sweet boy. The tide was coming in, so we hiked back after a while. We reconnoitered at the camp site, then went to Stump Beach, where we spent the next five hours hiking and looking at wild flowers, looking at tide pools, playing baseball, sitting around and eating.

My children's father arrived and we played baseball with my son, my boy at bat, his father pitching, me catching.



It was a nice day at the beach, windy as hell. I wore a snowboarding jacket and a hat the whole day.

Talking to the parents was okay, though there were a couple of (or fifteen) moments which gave me pause. It was interesting to hear their perspectives on how the school year has gone.

There was one dad who is one of the most cheerful people I've ever met. He always has a smile and a good word and he was fun to hang out with.

My girl beach combed to her heart's delight, and then went with her friends and their parents on a two mile hike back to the campsite. Before she did, she had to pee, so I took her to the outhouse. She came out with the most icked out look on her face, and wanted to describe the experience. I said no and used her expression, taken from Shrek: "Let's talk about cake. Everybody loves cake."

When we got back to the campsite, after five hours on the beach, my girl was there in fine spirits after her hike. She and my boy took another hike down to the beach, because the tide was out and it was time to look at tide pools.

They came back delighted with seeing starfish and anemones, seals and whales.

We had a potluck dinner which was great in that people put a lot of effort into things like fruit salad with strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, nectarines, raspberries and kiwis, and grilled lamb chops with rosemary. And tons of the other food.

The parents got pretty toasted on cosmopolitans and martinis and one divorcing dad thought he would try to put the moves on me. It was pretty revolting for a host of reasons, not the least of which being that I like his soon-to-be former wife and she has let me know in no uncertain terms what a jerk he is. Plus, he gave the vibe of being a rapacious womanizer.

We sang songs around the campfire and then my kids wanted to sleep in their father's super-deluxe tent. Fine with me. I kissed my boy goodnight and climbed into my borrowed tent. It provided wonderful shelter from the wind. I slept under two sleeping bags and only woke up a few times. One of those times was when my boy was walked back to my tent because he wanted to spend the rest of the night with his mom. So we cuddled and he fell back to sleep.

In the morning, I woke up and dressed and, hobbling around stiffly, started packing up the car.

I had spoken to two other parents the day before, two folks whom I've always liked and with whom I've joked about some of the elitist bullshit that goes on at the school, about how they were enjoying the camping trip. They let me know they thought it sucked and the wind was kicking their ass. But we agreed that we were suffering so our kids could enjoy themselves. The mom praised me for being so amicable with my children's father, "putting the kids first."

It was nice to be around couples where they got along and related well to each other, but it didn't make me want to be married again; not even a little bit.

I let them know that at the crack of dawn on Sunday morning, I was packing up the car and getting the hell out of dodge.

My boy slept soundly while I put the car in order. Repacking is a big job.

Finally my boy woke up and went to check on his father's tent. Quick as a flash I struck the tent, rolled up the sleeping bags, pulled up the stakes, and packed everything into the car. Then I made a bit more happy talk, posed for a group picture, gave my girl a Drammamine, and drove back down Highway 1.

I returned D.'s equipment to her and promised to pay for the air mattress. We visited for a minute, gossiped about work, then we drove the rest of the way home.

The house had not been broken into. I worried. You know I worried.

It is good to get away from one's life. To think and regroup. I wish I had a week off now. But I don't.

I'm watching Pieces of April. I like it. I've gotten out of the habit of watching movies, in part because there's so much shite out there. But I think it's a habit I'll pick up again.

You know what?

Some people need to have mercy and update, because a sistah is missing their words.

'kay? Thanks.

I was out of the office yesterday, serving on an interview panel for a municipal law office on the edge of the central valley.

It was fun. The women who interviewed for the position were very intelligent and interesting, two in particular. It was clear they had a breadth of experience and one applicant had what I can only describe as the most elegant analytical ability I’ve seen in a long time. They were applying for a senior legal assistant position.

I had flashbacks of serving on an interview panel when I first met D. Within 10 seconds of her sitting down I knew I wanted to work with her, especially when she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table to answer the questions.

There was a question about teamwork and it made me realize how absent it is in my work environment. (For example, I have two trials set for the same day in July. One in federal court and one 45 miles away in state court. What will I do? These guys won’t/can’t help me.)

I had an delicious lunch–mixed green salad with grilled chicken breast, crumbled blue cheese and seasoned walnuts.

After the interviews were over and we gave our feedback and recommendations I headed home. I weeded and replanted in the front yard, watered in both yards, and deadheaded the rose bushes. I was tired from the night before, when both my boy and I had trouble sleeping–for two hours between 3 and 5AM.

I left the kitchen in an embarrassing state of disarray until the morning–then I got up early and cleaned out the refrigerator, washed dishes, and put things away.

Confession: Then I went upstairs and watched about 15 minutes of SportCenter. I like it. It cracks me up. I like watching the baseball highlights. I like listening to the commentary.

Today I had a meeting where I had to apologize. Where my ideas were re-stated by someone I dislike as if they were her own.

But no matter. A beautiful woman sent me a beautiful gift and it was waiting for me when I got to work. Wa-hoo.



I will post pictures of my girl's creations, but some of them are sheer, and she's a girl, and this is the Internet.

I had a really good weekend and a wonderful Mother’s Day.

Saturday, my children came home nice and early. A good start. My son was delighted with his new bookcase and organized toys. I thought we were going to have to go to the mega-toystore for a birthday present, but I re-read the invitation and it requested, in lieu of a present, a gift wrapped book for a book exchange. Yay, no mega-toystore.

My girl wanted to go the fabric store, so we did. She found two different purple fabrics, one floral the other gauzy and see through to put on top of the floral, and planned to make a skirt. I found some batik which I can use for a quilt. After buying the fabric, I stopped off at the bank to deposit my paycheck and get some cash.

We stopped off at home to get the invitation and directions to the party, then we went to Rockridge Kids, to get a book and a knight get up for my little dude. The theme of the party was knights and princesses. We found exactly what we needed and bought this book and had it gift wrapped.

Then, because it took a much shorter time than I had anticipated, we strolled down to Market Hall and I picked up some organic lettuce and some half and half. (The Fair Trade blend I bought from Peets is delicious, but very potent.)

We drove to the party and I was anxious–not wanting to stand around and make happy talk with the pre-school parents, but wanting instead to deposit my son and leave. I stayed and I am glad I did. The parents are very nice people, the happy talk didn’t kill me, and I got to know the kids and the parents better. They had sandwiches from Genova deli, which makes the best, best, best sandwiches in the area.

My son was ecstatic about the party and his friends. My girl was very popular with the littler kids, because she tickled them and chased them and was nice and gentle. Plus, when you’re 4, an 8 year old is a deity. My girl used to worship big girls, and still does to some extent.

Finally we got to leave the party, taking a book with us, and returned home. My girl started on her sewing project, after drawing the design and discussing the measurements with me, I watered plants and visited with my boy. He helped me cook dinner later–mashed potatoes with a little sour cream mixed into them, chicken, and green beans sauteed with tomatoes and onions.

Sunday morning I got up first (at around 7:00) and made some coffee. Then my boy woke up and we retrieved the newspapers from the front of the house together. Then they presented my Mother’s Day presents to me. My boy made a frame with a picture of him inside, with a magnet on the back if I want to hang it on the refrigerator. I was so touched. My girl also made me a picture frame, which she had painted and decorated. She also made me some neck pillows on her sewing machine. My son made me two pieces of jewelry with his sister’s help and they made me MD cards out of construction paper.

After I read the newspapers and had coffee, my son wanted to play soccer, so we got dressed and went to the back yard to play.

Later we went to my younger sister’s house for a MD brunch. It was terrific. Such a spread of food, from fried chicken and macaroni and cheese, to bacon, sausage, eggs and hash browns, spice cakes, strawberries and whipped cream, champagne and orange juice for mimosas. We ate, and ate and ate.

My mother brought a box of pictures, 30 years worth, which she had intended to discard. Since she’s retired and at home all day, she really into purging. She had actually placed the pictures in the recycling bin, but they were retrieved by my stepfather.

We looked through them and laughed and remembered and took the ones we want for our collections. While we were looking at pictures, my daughter and niece gave a fashion show of the clothes she has made so far. It was very impressive. She had finished the purple skirt, though it had morphed into a dress. She also made a blouse from the fabric, five other blouses from earlier projects and a dress for her cousin. She is very inspired by sewing and I would like to find a class for her to learn the basics beyond what I know.

I told my family that I’m planning on a trip to celebrate turning 40 and I was thinking that I would take the kids to Kenya. As I expected, my younger brother was very excited and supportive of the idea. My mother says that she has a friend who has a guest house in Zanzibar and she thinks we should all go there. So a plan is starting to take shape.

On the subject of traveling, it looks like my children’s father is going to be taking my girl to Europe for three weeks at the end of June. My first thought was Oh hell no, you’re not taking my baby so far away for so long. Then I recognized that I would be a fool (selfish and ridiculous) to deny her the experience. Then I asked her what she thought of it, and it turns out that she’s completely psyched about going, that she’s been corresponding with her cousins in Germany and they are looking forward to her arrival.

My boy will stay home with me, which will make him very happy.

We will see if it comes to fruition. I will be very angry if he gets my girl all hyped and then doesn’t come through. Very.

After the brunch, we stopped off at the hardware store. Don’t you hate it when someone talks you out of a part that you are pretty sure that you need? That happened to me, when I should have listened to my instincts; now I have to take a second trip to the store. Bugger.

The kids and their cousin played in the sprinkler and I worked on a quilt.

My sister and BIL came to pick up my niece after having seen Supersize Me. They declared the end of their family's fast food consumption.

Later, I barbecued chicken and made potato salad, along with leftover green beans, and garlic bread. We ate dinner at the patio table and talked about what a good weekend it had been.

Thank you all for the words of encouragement and wisdom. You're all awesome.

A while ago, I read this post, and it was so heartbreakingly full of grace and courage, that it planted something in me which I have been able to reach down and use through this time.

* * *

Today was an unusual day. I woke up at 5AM and could not go back to sleep. So I watched some of this on DVD. I expected to fall back to sleep, but I never did.

I got up at around 7:15 AM and started cleaning up the packaging from two bookcases that I bought from IKEA last night.

I went on an organizing tear, so to speak, in an effort to get my study and my son's toys in his room under control. I bought baskets from this store and this store and other storage containers from IKEA.

I got all of my son's toys put away in a very orderly fashion. He was, of course, absent. I also got some of the insanity in my study under control, which makes me feel better.

After I dealt with the packaging and recycled all the cardboard (!), I showered and dressed and cut the front lawn. I had time this morning because I had a 10:30 meeting and didn't go into work until after that.

The lawn was quick, with the edging and cleaning up, and I infinitely prefer a mown lawn.

Then I went to Peets on Fourth Street in Berkeley and got some Fair Trade blend. My palate is tired (tired, tired) of the coffee I usually drink at home.

Then I went to my meeting. Then I went to work. My boss is out of the office, so we're all relaxed and hanging loose.

Where is FIRE?

Well, in the early part of March, he broke up with me.

Broke up with me....that sounds so un-empowered. We are no longer seeing each other. I guess that sounds like it's more mutual. But it wasn't. It was his decision.

And I've been far, far too traumatized to blog about it.

Heartbroken.
Angry.
Full of recrimination.
Deeply sad.
Confused.
Ego bruised.

We did not stop loving each other. Which would have made it easier, I guess.

The decision had some logic to it. I suppose I should be comforted by that. I'm not.

What comforts me is the fact that I didn't foresake the rest of my life in the name of our relationship. I made sure to embrace and enhance and enjoy the rest of my life, especially during times when he and I experienced discontent while we were together.

So I had a soft landing in that way.

Of course, the whole work interface will make things sightly more complicated. Though we don't work at the same location or at the same times.

It has thrown me for a loop.

I am still getting my bearings.

The pain is getting better, very slowly.

How to cure a broken heart? I don't know. Is there a way? What helps is: my children, my friends, my family, yoga, gardening, good food, breathing in and out, drinking water, talking to my therapist, reading my journals (so I don't get an unrealistically rosy view about how it actually was).

I would never write blog anything negative about him. I only vented my anger and despair to my closest girlfriend and my therapist.

So there it is. Now you know.

The plumbers drove up just as we pulled into the driveway.

They were nice. They gave me the spiel. It goes like this: we can snake the pipe, which will cost you $125, but if sludge is the problem, then no amount of snaking is going to help. Then we will have to do a high pressure washing of the pipes, and that's going to cost you $350.

Uh huh. Go ahead. <---that was me.


I was really thinking Just fix it. Fix it. Fix it. Fu.cking-A, I can't live one more minute like this. My kitchen is derailed by this clogged sink. I can't cook. Fix it. Fix it.

It turned out to be a solid blockage, rather than sludge. And they said the pipes were in good shape. And they opined that a garbage disposal (which I don't have) is not that great of a contraption. Cool. I didn't want one any damn way.

It's like tithing: you pay when you own a house, one way or another. There are a million ways to part you from your money. Two million.

On a different topic:

Yuck!

Two days ago, spyware of some sort downloaded itself on my home computer. It would look at the page I was reading and make links to commercial sites it thought were relevant.

And then there was an explosion of popup ads. Ewwww.

Finally, I went to the Windows site and downloaded some free spyware killer software. Hopefully, that will be the end of that.

It should be illegal, this spyware. It's an outrageous invasion of privacy.

My boy surprises me. He doesn’t like vegetables, he says. Although I’m confident that he eats them at preschool. On the other hand, he loves fruit. If there is an apple around anywhere, he wants it. And we were heading to the fabric store yesterday and he walked up with a banana, which he had peeled by himself. I saw that it was bruised and a little mushy on the top and I got all wound up to cajole him to eat that part, or ready to cut if off, the way my mother used to have to for me, when he popped it into his mouth without a second thought. He ate the whole thing, quite happily and I am so relieved I didn’t accidently impose my food bias on him. (With bananas, I like them just ripe. When they are ripe or very ripe, I don’t want them. And bruised and mushy is out of the question.)

My boy fell asleep at 7:00 last night, before his sister got home from her father’s house. My son
refused to go to his father’s house. I sat on the couch with him and spoke to him very gently and attentively about it. He just didn’t want to go. Really didn’t, in a lie down on the floor and writhe kind of way.

So I didn’t make him go. I had no plans, other than to chill and rest my brain.

He was very insistent that I do what he wanted to do: watch movies with him, play baseball, watch him draw on the sidewalk with his chalk, play with water guns, play with water balloons, eat my spaghetti, take a bath with me. And that was fine some of the time, but I was also grappling with the fu.cki.ng kitchen sink which is clogged, clogged, clogged. [A plumber is coming to the house this evening, when I get off work. To the folks who say Oh you can just get a snake and put it down there...I say –Oh hell no. This sistah does not mess with plumbing.] And I wanted to do laundry, and start quilting my girl’s quilt. And clean up the house. And cut the grass. And weed the rose bed. So we compromised, but mostly I did what he wanted.

At one point I sat on the chaise longue in back yard reading Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto while my boy ran around not trying very hard not to hit me with water from the squirt gun. And I felt really relaxed, despite my having to repeatedly tell him not to squirt his mother. It felt like we were at the beach.

My girl is crazy about her new sewing machine and I am so pleased. I understand that it is empowering for her. I want to nurture her enthusiasm and creativity, without getting sucked in so that I am unable to do anything else while she’s sewing because I have to answer her questions. So far, after giving her some basic instructions and advice, she was ready to sew. And she had such a look of concentration on her face.

My mother came over on Friday to drop off some shrimp spring rolls. I pulled her into the house to see my girl’s new sewing machine, which she thought was adorable. My mom is the seamstress of the family, using the same avocado green Singer sewing machine that she has used my entire life. Now that she’s retired, she is expanding into upholstery. And I gave her an enormous bouquet of roses before she left, in part to thank her for the spring rolls.

So when my girl got home last night, she wanted to sleep in my bed again. But I didn’t want her to wake up her brother, so I sat on her bed and talked to her instead. She told me that she went swimming four times during the weekend and she looked so tanned and grown up when she came home.

How the hell is it Mother’s Day this Sunday? Eh?