Cherries, Bees and Hives...

I went down to Pikes Place Market today to grab some flowers for a teammate recovering from surgery and ran across some cherries.  Lots of cherries.  Washington is just as well known for cherries as it is for apples and serial killers.   I'm not terribly fond of cherries.  When I was a kid I would break out in hives whenever I ate anything cherry - or used cherry shampoo, etc.  I believe it honestly was the artificial red no. 5 or whatever the dye's number was that was banned in the 1980s.  But the damage was done and I stayed away from cherry - in general.  (I do have very few memories of my material grandmother - but one of them was her sitting at the table pitting cherries to make cherry pie.)  And at the Market today - there were tons of them.  I couldn't refuse and bought a small basket of them and a Monster cookie and headed back to work to eat my salad and tackle the rest of the day.  

My body, wanting to dump stress hormones in to my now-missing omentum, broke out into hives earlier this week - they  spread across my belly over where my omentum would be - which I thought it was funny, as I sat there eating my cherries.  (I like cherries alright.  I like blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, apricots, peaches, pineapple and mangoes better but they're not bad.)

Tonight, after gathering some more "stuff" from a co-worker to take to my team's garage sale this weekend, I zipped back to Ballard to join my friend Glitter (Danni) for a crafting class at Venue - a local store that has studios you can rent and sell all local artists' works.  We had signed up to learn how to "needle felt".  I had never heard of it but I loved the little felted animal and characters in the shop - and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to learn how to create these super cute creatures - like BEES!  The instructor was from across the Sound and explained our class very well.  She was really well known for these felt creatures and I LOVED IT.  It was fun and funny and very easy, in my opinion, to learn (though it will take a while to get good at.) I made a bee that looked like a little sushi roll and a ladybug that actually looked like it was suppose to.  I bought the artist's book and a kit to make bluebirds. at the end of the class.  Danni and I parted ways and I headed home -  completely relax, thrilled to have spent some fun times with Glitter and having learned a new craft that I think I'm going to really enjoy.  And I look forward to  a different application "hives" -  one for little felt-y bees.

How quickly it leaves us...

This past weekend I went camping at Kalalock with some friends.  It's one of my favorite camping spots - with tide pools filled with reluctant creatures, camps sites that have gnarled branches and trees resembling something from "middle earth" and like growth marks on a child's door jam, the sun sets on those trees.  It's laying on the glacier flattened stones that are heated from the sun but you still need a sweatshirt because of the constant winds pushing the waves on the sometimes sandy shore littered with bleached, smooth trees, who spent a long time the ocean.   

It's so incredibly relaxing.  And when I camp, I eat like a queen, cooking fish, corn-on-the-cob, squash, baby red potatoes and even shrimp.  My friend gave me an espresso maker for camping and Americanos are the rule in the morning along with Mexican breakfast burritos (both veggie and with sausage.) We manage to avoid talking about work or derby and instead share funny stories, talk about our past, share some hopes and dreams.  And by the time you've been there for one evening, everything is put into perspective.  You feel rather humbled (hanging out by the Pacific Ocean all day will do that to you.)  You're thrilled to have spent so much time in nature and to be cooking "slow food" with friends and drinking wine.  It's really rather perfect.

And then is starts to slip away.  Even if you ignore the cellphone (though you start to get a signal), the harried traffic (while you have to pee), makes you slightly crazy.  You get home finally - only to have to run another errand.  You're exhausted; you smell like campfire (which was fine when you were in the woods); you have to go to work.  And it's Monday.  And there's a budget committee meeting which sets you into a quiet panic.  You are going to have so much more work to do and you're going to take another pay cut and you don't know what else there is.  You have practice, which was great fun, but then there are decisions to be made and arguments to squelch.  

It starts to slip away.  That peace that you felt - like the high tide rolling out ... and it's only Monday.

*sigh*

Gone fishin...

... for reluctant creatures on the Washington coast.  I am so looking forward to getting "off the grid", putting things in to perspective and watching the oldest movie of all time - High Tide Coming in at Night, starring The Earth, The Moon and The Ocean.  Even if Scattered Showers decides to make a guest appearance in an otherwise perfect summer.

*sigh*

States of Confusion...

This past weekend I got the "snot beat out of me" in our bout against the Camaro Harem.  I enjoy playing that team generally as my "derby wife" - Weedy - is on it.  But this weekend there was a trifecta of blockers (Tixxie, Retro & Betty) who cleaned my clock after and thoroughly as I tried to work my way thru the pack to score some points.  My head go knocked around (not on the ground but knocked around just the same) which always scares me into wondering if this is my last game or my last season.   I was frustrated by the half time and happy to be done with it by the end.   My team has some really smart moments and I was particularly proud of us on many levels. I walked away learning a thing or two (like ask your teammates for help) and managed to spend very little time the penalty box.

Sunday there were rumors confirmed of stomach flu spreading like wildfire around the team. I escaped the wrath of it all day - going to a Pride Parade meeting for work, running some errands, getting a costume for our "Keep on Truckin'" themed skate-a-thon.  I threw up my late lunch as I headed to the event was convinced I had sustained a more serious head injury - as opposed to the rational thought that I might actually have the flu.  I stayed for an hour, left in tears (of course in the car) but had chills and fever by the time I got home.  I couldn't tell if I was feeling miserable because of the flu or because of the beating I took at the bout.  The misery stayed with me thru much of Monday though I had been able to keep down meals and most water. Tuesday was just a day of rest - trying to get back to 100% - and I started Wednesday at 92% but left the day at about 64%.  I came home, skipping practice, and tried to take a nap - but the kitties wanted attention too.  I managed somehow slip in an hour.

The last week had been a week of revelations for me.  I so often in life find myself crabby, "bored", feeling restless and I can't put my finger on it - then I do.  And it frustrates me to no end that it's always the same thing - I just need to be creative.  I've given up A LOT of my creative projects at work (so that other people can get the experience and I can manage it.)  This is great for my team but completely frustrating for me.  Because so much of my life is derby and work, I find myself spending so much time doing both and not enough time sewing, writing, reading, painting, crafting, whatever.  And it wears on me.  I become restless.  I get annoyed.  And I sit there and contemplate "what is it that I need to be happy?!" over and over until I realize it - again.  I just need to set up a timer on my Outlook Calendar at work to ask "When was the last time YOU CREATED something new Michelle?"  It really is such a huge part of me.  Why do I forget to feed it?

A part of my lack of creativity comes with the demise of my laptop.  It started crashing at the beginning of the year and went completely dead by March.  I've been using Lara's Mac - which is wonderful and I appreciate it - but it's not the same.  I'm use to a PC - a laptop - that I can put on my lap, on the futon, and write in my blog.  Do work. Do derby work.  The Mac is a different computer with different thingies that become roadblocks - or excuses.  The solution is to buy a new laptop... even if there is something else that needs your money - like your car, your trip home to see your nieces, your 401 K, new skates, etc.  I just need to do it.  Get a new one. And quit make excuses.  Stop the confusion.

*one of my favorite pictures from this past weekend - sneaking by Weedy and Trixxie.. and running like hell - with my tongue out.  he he he.

Summer time,...

The last few weeks have been  incredibly sunny and dry - I find myself taking cat naps after work - not because I'm exhausted and it's dark and miserable but because I want to lounge like Fezzi on the futon in the sunlight.  I try to catch a hike after work and don't mind taking the bus when the sun is out first thing in the morning.  Even Monkey is happy about the sunshine - waking me up at 5:30 a.m. with the Monkey Alarm "meow, meow, meow."  I've actually been able to wear my summer dresses.  All my favorite fruits are starting to show up at the grocery store.  You find yourself wanting to have a beer on a patio at sunset.

The interesting thing is that it's been cold and wet for so long that I almost don't trust it.  I'm trying to believe that summer is actually here.  And that it's planning on staying a while...

New shoes... new skates.

Good times all around.

Beside myself mourning for a courageous feminist...

My morning was ruined when Lara read on our way to work that Dr. George Tiller had been murdered while attending his church on Sunday morning.  The fatigue from the weekend compounded the incredible sense of loss.

 

He was an INCREDIBLY amazing, generous, courageous man.  He had been shot twice before.  His clinic had been bombed.  He is one of only three doctors in the nation willing to perform late term abortions.  Late term abortions.  (Something like 0.3% of all abortions of all late term abortions are late term.  Majority of the fetuses were not viable.)  Most of the women were in bad situations.

When I worked at Planned Parenthood of Greater Cleveland, we sent people to Kansas when they needed Dr. Tiller.  And "needed" was an understatement.

 

He knew what he had gotten himself into.  He knew what he was up again.  He knew his number would come due one day and he would most likely go out violently but he still did his work.  He still advocated on behalf of women and our rights.  He was a feminist in the middle of the stickiest battles.

 

His father performed abortions when it was illegal.

 

He was the end of the line for so many people. He was their last chance.  He was their only hope.  And now he's gone.

 

And I don't know who or how that giant, gaping hole is going to be filled.