This is a Kinda Grouchy Post Food Poisoning Post

And it starts like this.  

Lobbiest says, as I wait patiently for my Senator to finish talking outside chambers (My honing abilities for locating her in precise moments is really quite good). 

"Smile!"

So, I say:

"It's only female assistants who get told to smile right, not the male lobbiests"

and he says 

"What?"

I genuinely think he could not (chose not to) "hear" me.

"Oh, I said the secretaries can smile but the Senators can be grim right?"

"Oh, Yeah"  he looks at me slightly cross-eyed.

Later I see him again.  "Oh, now you're smiling!"

The smiling thing has been a steadfast way for creepy folks I don't know to act like they know me this session.  It is just because I like my job and am generally happy.  Not because I don't think you're a senseless egomaniac with a fetish for blonds and a cackling laugh.  Might I add terribly misguided in your choice of political persuasion.  

And the toothpick guy?  Come on, they let him vote?

So, that's been educational.

When SK and I talked about Eliot Spitzer I concluded:  You know in politics guys are always trying to get in women's skirts and we are always trying to get them out, and be taken seriously.  It is a strange set of conditionings.

Shifting, shifting.

and someone else:

"Tough work huh?" when he sees me un-collating copies.  (Who would do it if I didn't?  A machine?  No.)

"Yeah, its really testing my intellectual capabilities."

Something does boil.  In my system.  

And the body will manifest stress as disease given the context of power that it is part of, and subjected through.

So, I was poisoned, and tired of smiling, and being kind, and just watching the sharp elbowed game.  I was it for a few moments today.  And I witnessed the three stooges clamber around together, thrilled with inexuberant euphoria, with all they had giveth and taken away.

Yuck.

It's sort of like that.

Don't you think?

Beth.

Remember, those old rooms, the windows.  Chips and Salsa sent all the way from New Mexico.

Your favorite kind.

Beth.

What a few perfect moments, days weeks, a little over a month in my memory.  Lets see, Summer of '95 it was hot in Chicago.  Hangin' by the lake in Evanston.  Breathing the humidity.  Hitting no doze, and running, running, running, every day. Passing out while reading court records, wait, opinions in cases.  How did we end up here, again, together?

You were just pretending to sleep right?  You heard the whole thing, the whole phone conversation with all my confidences poured through the line.  You knew, and didn't say.

Beth.

Sometimes you would just rub my back.  Talk kindly.  Treat me to a picnic with your visiting family.  Let me play "American Girl" over and over and over.

Then.

Beth,

Remember when we saw each other at the Berkeley Tournament? Hailey and I were so proud to be there.  But, I had cut my hair short, and it surprised you.  We clung to each other.  (Did we know we would never see each other again? Saving for the dream of course.)

Dinner, chinese, you were up against a team from Idaho in a round.  I wouldn't give you any pointers except vague references (Siting regional protection).  I didn't think I needed to because you were superb, taught me the meaning of the words "antithetical, antithesis, anethema".

You won.

Then a good-bye I don't recall.  Night time? Rain?

Then, the message, long into my machine.  I never called back, was riding my own crazy disillusionment.  My peering into mortality.

And I went on that backpacking trip.  Into the Cascades.  And you visited in the dream.  You said "Good-Bye."

I heard the world cry, all the way up there in the Pacific Northwest Cascades--I heard all of everything cry at the loss of you.

And when I came out I met the news.  A long sobbing message.  That I returned.

All that passed, and

I still feel you.  Yes to the light, vibration, but also a brush of your hand still in the connectedness. Each day.

Thank you Beth Brown.

COMPOSTING PART 3

(Beware, this layer is a purge.  Some content not suited for grown-ups, or even anyone who can read).

And the mystery continues.  

By way of the bookstore.

Where yesterday it happened that a book and I grabbed each other and I got goosebumps.  It is a book, a work of fiction, about Tesla, and a chambermaid and alternating current and radio and of course the City, which I love.

So it felt good.  Especially because of the weird thing about me and books right now.  The things like:  White Teeth; The Audacity of Hope; The Invisible Man; Lamb; Peace is Every Step: If the Buddha Got Stuck; The Sun Also Rises; Glass Castle; The Hidden Messages in Water; A Thousand Plateaus:  Capitalism and Schizophrenia.

I have tried and failed to read all of these within the last 3 months. (Granted, some were a second read and didn't resonate on this approach).

So.  The encounter in the bookstore was good.  And I hope bears fruit.  Since I need to love this book and it looks like I might.  It reminds me already of The Incantation of Frida K. and I love books with historical figures surmised in the imaginings of time and space.  He is talking to pigeons, actually has a love affair with one.  And she, the chambermaid Louisa , not the pigeon--really loves radio and works in the hotel where Tesla truly lived and she befriends him, and we will see.

 Since my last escapade into Like Water for Elephants nothing has matched.

I remember getting up early in the morning in Jersey.  Just moved self into tall living space in Highland Park.  Newly married, but honeymooning alone because of grad school, alone and pregnant in the winter. I had to get up early to finish reading and writing a presentation for one of my classes.  It was a challenging course with a small group and a very gifted researcher and writer as the professor.

But I was exhausted and behind, and stressed and I got up and cried and read and wrote and presented and it was fine.

This week at work we are printing envelopes.  I know it sounds benign.  But I am certain I will be getting Hypnotherapy related to this experience in the very near future because if you say "printing envelopes" to me I feel sick.

7, 000--and I will not go into all the boring gory details, except this one:

I printed approximately 4,000 envelopes in my whole project before it was pointed out to me that the addresses I had created via a merge template where I set the location of the address looked rather odd.  To me it looked perfect.  To me, the centered one looks strange.  Now, I am able to see their point (everyone chimed in their agreement with the awkwardness of mine).  But before I didn't see that.

This kind of thing  happens all the time to me.  And also when I work really hard I kind of dance through the experience.  I move breathe, focus and try to operate efficiently.  It makes my co-workers nervous and I am not sure if I need to change or the environment and space I work in needs to change.  But I do get the job done this way, just sometimes the work is obviously distinct in style (like the envelopes).

This does frighten me.  Like something is wrong.

And also its fine, I just keep growing and learning and striving for balance and good work.

That was a heavy, and awkward layer.  A bit acidic.  Bit heavy on me it was and now I feel relieved.

I hesitate to write this, but isn't it weird how I just described my writing in a way that sounds like I took a big dump?

COMPOSTING PART 2

This is the next layer.

It is well composed, already sitting heavily, and changing.

There was no River and now there is River.  There was once no Canyon and now there is Canyon. 

There was once no Mesa and THEN there still is no Mesa.

Now.

Sometimes I can't write of the most sacred.  

Like the walk last week to the cross, but really the B with Graffiti.

This eve though I did walk.  Just me.  No dog, no children, no companion but my shadow and the shift of light and dark from the sun splitting my path.

Sacred, sweet, bumbling down the trail fast with my feet in my now favorite weekend shoe.  I can feel the path, no pain but connection.  I saw the tracks of deer and skat, and a larger animal too, right here in these hills, the smell of earth and wet and plant.  That old volcano right there feels special to me.

Flying, jumping, swiveling down and around. Breath.

The next layer will have something to do with

ENVELOPES

COMPOSTING PART 1

This is the compost pile.  The making of it anyways.  The description of the layers.

If you can't deal with the immaterial materialities of my life and the way I think about things, I would recommend reading NO further. 

(So strange to write that since most of the time I believe I am writing to myself as the primary reader of this blog--explaining the parameters I am setting--all part of exploring the comfort and discomfort of this medium of written expression--at once private and public --in the same proximity--)

The first layer is this:

When I was alone, and sometimes very lonely in Jersey for 7 months of pregnancy with River, I would call Kelly (Big Sister).

And she would say 

{to the decrees of my "lonesome {and oh how lonesome was NJ for me?) state"}

"You should try to enjoy being alone, because that is all about to change."

And so I did.

I savored the acorn squash, egg sandwiches with raisin bread, french toast, and tuna sandwiches, sometimes just cereal.  I savored all those meals on my own.  The long baths, the quiet of a day spent in intensive study--all the while growing with the baby (and so not ever alone at all).  Yoga, lots of yoga.  

It did all change.

Now...I am split in many parts after two lovely children, I find trying to re-enter the world of professional progression for the main objective of profit in order to pay the price of living--us, a family--in this city quite problematic.  Even as I enjoy working often.

And I want to succeed and I want to get it all right.  And I believe in what I do.

But I am not with my children this weekend.  Because I cannot bring myself to the level of going to the cabin.  I need to work on Sunday on a campaign.  I know the altitude and transitions involved in the cabin are too hard to go up and down.  And they need desperately to go.  All 3 need a final ( and for Canyon a first) day on skis.  The next weekends each of us solo with the kids for individual trips.  And also soccer starts.  I guess I didn't think of that--will I not get to the cabin until the wildflowers are poking through?

Plus, this is the awful truth--I need to assimilate a bit that has transpired so quickly.  Mama of two, working part-time in a garden but mostly being Mama, has a miscarriage, gets a full-impact job, and whirls through a rather weird working environment as the gavel prepares to drop and Sine Die!  You're Through!

So, I need some time to myself to prepare for another transition.

And I wish I could just pull it together.  So many women do.  No big deal.  But I have only spent one short night away from Canyon our whole lives together.  I see them both so little during the week.  I want to jump in that old VW Bus and chug perilously to McCall.  

All of us (4) cuddled in soft sheets.

The van wouldn't make it though.  And I get to sleep in as late as I want.  

1. Garden all day?  
2. Do anything I want for as long as I want at the "Y" ?
3. Sleep all day, Clean all night (including vacuum)?
4. Just read, write, sleep, eat, read, write, eat, sleep.
5. Movie!  With DB!
6. Shopping (with gift certificates)
7. Get hair done.  And then walk aimlessly around wherever I feel like going.
8. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
9. You get the idea.

And ideally the soil to lay the compost in is rich and ready.  Lots of tunnelers to create gardener's gold.  And the area is set, protected, with three bins for churning is nice.  A big pitchfork handy, and lots of carbon (fallen leaves or shredded paper) for layering in between to help with decomposition.

We just have one of those plastic turning bins right now.  Haven't taken the time for building the other.

But any attempt is good.

And in terms of the material immaterials...well...I believe the timing is near perfect for a description and enactment of the layers as they're lain.

Dissonance: I hear a discord and with due diligence will distance myself in these decision developments.

ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

Did I ever mention the weird thing about looking for data?

When you do you discover what no one knows.

or

No one you think, at first, would know.

This is the lesson: When looking for information regarding social trends, first use Google to pull up articles (when looking for statistics regarding budgetary issues call the relevant agency). That will give you your base information in the quickest way possible and the key points you need to substantiate an argument (this is the opposite of how to write a good research paper).

But then

It is good if you can find an organization that is "really doin' it." I found one today while researching domestic violence among pregnant women. It was very cool, because after scouring organizations in the state and finally getting directed to a national organization in The City www.advocatesforpregantwomen.org I was provided with significant information, that I could then give to our in state network: Like the Idaho Women's Network www.idahowomensnetwork.org and The Idaho Department of Health and Welfare.

Even if the bill I was working to oppose sailed through with the first part of the information (the Google part) we had a nicely constructed argument, that although it was delivered in a hurry and unforutnately had to be hastily put together could, nevertheless, be a new way of explaining the problems with proposals that claim to save pregnant women from domestic abuse by making safe and legal abortion more difficult.

Pushed Panic Puritanical Pungent Prickly Persuasive Perturbed Pissed Pressed Punished Pitied Portrayed Problematic Pregnant with Possibilities. (Period) PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

AT THE YMCA: Violence Against (Wo)Men

I knew what I had to write about--Only I had to comfort myself first.

The other night I was at the "Y" on my favorite machine.  

Headphones were on since I like Bravo at the "Y".  And since I got there late for various reasons I was going till 10:00 and until I saw who won and lost "Top Chef."  

Then, at about five till'-- like three guys walk in the backdoor via one of the workers and they exchange bravados and beer.  I am the only one left in the big room with these dudes chilin' out with their beverages.  And my headphones are on, and I am watching the winner and loser of "Top Chef".

I feel like a spectacle.  And so when I get off because it is 10:00 and I know the winner and the loser of "Top Chef" I can use a voice and say...."You guys getta hang out in here tonight?  That's my dream"...."well you can stay in here with us" (spectacle confirmed).  "No, I want to have this place to myself with no one else."  

When I leave I ask about the "guys"..."They're carpet layers" the two tell me."  O.K. ..."Just thought I'd ask, it felt uncomfortable."

Where is the violence?  

My uncomfortability had a place...and maybe they were laying carpet, and I was there and they had beer.  O.k. , fine.  

But there was a strangeness, a history, a vulnerability and several cultural, sexual, saturations at play.

At the YMCA.

A Belief, A hope, a Dream --An Idea

I lived in Philly.  Mostly to escape Jersey, but also because it is a great East Coast "BIG" little city.  

The city sits between two rivers:  The Deleware and the Schuylkill.  The streets can be broad and cold, amidst the tall steel and mirrored skyscrapers.  But it is also old.  As old as this conception of the nation we have implicit allegiance to.  The idea of the American "Nation" was born in Philadelphia--or at least was manifested there.

So the streets can be tiny, with old homes and brick roadways.  Who once walked these paths? For what purpose? Were they running or walking?

Today a city littered in art.  Murals and Mosaics, glittering of glass on a main walk, down a tiny corner.  See your face in the wall as the mirror looks back at you--now transformed into a flower amidst pink and green.

I mean, Pennsylvania will go to Obama.

I know this of this city.  I ran its streets with a big dog and a baby in a jogger--all of us strapped to John Kerry signs in '04.  That was a different choice, but just as obvious.  

I drove half-way cross that state with that same baby --took 3 hours both ways, and got real close to Kerry-and he was simply an alternative.  Real Big balloon didn't fit in the car, had to say bye-bye and cried the whole way home.

The city went dark when we lost in '04, a deep malaise.  I know, have a belief, a hope, a dream--this idea--

Philly will got to Barack

PA will go for Obama

 

Japhy Part 3

So it is pouring out now.  And the story continues by way of the next escape.  So much happened in between,  the entry into denial, and desperation, and depression.  But the trying to be true, Mexico.  Then, the living all of us together and grieving and the sewage in the basement and the falling into sadness and isolation.

So I went to Costa Rica.  

This is a beautiful story.

In the hills of Costa Rica.  Which is a country of this unique quality:  You can wake up and have breakfast on the Pacific, have lunch in the lush green mountains, and be to the Carribean in time for dinner.  Yes it is narrow, but long enough that my exodus to the lush green middle, in the lower regions near Panama, felt worlds away from anything.  Hiking into this farm.  Meeting these unusually centered folks.  Finding my strength.

And so, to call Grandma on her 80th birthday, I walked the 6 miles down to the village on a narrow path, littered with fresh mangoes and the sounds of life amidst greenery.  I hitched in at the road, made my call and started back up.  

These mangoes are the small variety, they are so ripe they either fall or can be easily picked for consumption.  Use the knife to peal back the skin, suck in the juices. 

Then, the earth moved.  And there was no traditional frame of reference.  No houses, no furniture--only trees and rocks, and earth.  Which shook.

Japhy Part 2

Japhy and I didn't end up jogging too much together.  But when we did it was because the connection loop had come full circle, intertwined.  He and Charlie and Colin.  The boys with frisbees and sparkles in their eyes.

So we would run, sometimes out Mill Creek.  Japhy liked how we would give it everything the last 200 yards or so, just kick and laugh.

One time, when Charlie was out of town at a ski race, I had a ceramics project and I wanted to do shoulder blades.  So, I asked Japhy if I could feel his back.  He had such defined bones.  It was extraordinary.  

Then, there was the time in Reepacheep.  Can't remember what inputs were adding to the fairytale like quality of the night (although I have suspicions it is not safe to disclose).  But I felt Japhy's shin bone, "What is in the water in Deadwood anyways Japhy?"  I said.  His bones were dense and strong, unlike others.

I would trail those bouncing movements like a mother hen.  "Look both ways!"  "Stop, there's a car!"  "Japhy, that's too high, what if you fall."  It irritated him, I know, but it was an impulse, he felt like he was always over the edge, always tilting on the precipice.  That's where he liked to be.

So, I guess it wasn't a "surprise" in the traditional sense, when I called Charlie from Italy and he started crying..."What is it?"  I begged.

And nearly 10 years later, I can't write what he said exactly because it is too much.  An accident, and its not o.k.  I am pulling at my hair.  Colors are too bright.  The trees are crying.  Parts of me, of all of us, are breaking.

And I am coming home now, flying through time zones, crying all the way from Florence to Oregon.  Leaving bits of my Soul scattered across the North Pole.

Japhy Part 1

I guess I've been wanting to write about Japhy for a long time now.  That sweet boy, with the red bandanna jumping down the stairs of Sherwood Gym after chatting with me.  We had just completed our first "Jogging Class" of college.  I remember thinking he seemed to bounce when he moved.

He's gone now of course, but not really gone, just dispersed, floating, moved, into the stars the ocean, the light when it rains.

And what has transpired since then, both the thens-- the meeting and the departing-- and the pain and struggle and grieving that came in its wake.  

How did this become us?  All of us that are part of this spiral, mobius strip, web, network, constellation?  What choices did we make or not make because of it?  And we hold to eachother, tightly, longingly, and we continue to live.  

 

HAPPY EQUINOX!!!!!!!!

HAPPY EQUINOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

om shanti om

om shanti om

om shanti om namo

namo shanti om

om shanti om namo

namo shanti om

om shanti om

om shanti om

om shanti om namo 

namo shanti om

om shanti om namo 

namo shanti

ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

TOO MANY TWO TRUE STORIES

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

These stories are true.  This is not a work of fiction, no matter how absurd the characters may seem.

Part I:  The Hearing

I am in the basement of the Idaho Supreme Court.  I am watching the House Health and Welfare Committee.  We are here because of expected volume--But I am waiting to hear the Attorney General's opinion which was the knife in the back to the mid-wives bill.  

But they are saying they need an AG's opinion on another bill and the Deputy AG in the room is hiding--literally from the committee...so that hearing was postponed. 

Then--this is when it gets crazy, absurd, laughable, and by consequence atrocious given the distribution of power in decision making relinquished to these folks sitting at these tables.

The naturopath bill first came 3 sessions ago--license us--licensed--fighting, corruption--general mis-actions--this session license only for this certification--3 days of hearings--senate passes--house committee passes--goes to amending order--governor says he has amendments--AT RE-HEARING NO GOVERNOR, NO AMENDMENTS--committee puts motion on the table to hold (this is the death knoll) the bill.

Really?  You are going to pass a bill out of committee, its gonna get sent back ( I think the governor part was orchestrated--call me paranoid) then--without those affected by the bill present you are gonna sneak in holding it in committee?  

Chairwoman wigs out big time, has to  call the Speaker of the House down from cross the street just to ask if the committee holds the bill will the current law change?

Well, course it won't change!  If you hold it it will not pass and it will not affect the law.

People are guffawing now...chair put motion on the table on her own--not allowed--then claimed it was someone else.

A few protest the absurdity...we will see this again next year ---yep, 3 days of committee testimony...

Some argue for...some against...those who voted for the motion to hold were among those who argued against holding--that part makes me crazy.  8-4 a bill that passed out, was artificially put back in and got killed.

Tonight I poured a drink for a member of that committee...he told me it may be resuscitated in another committee...I'm not holding my breath.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Part II THE BETRAYAL

Another too true story.

44 states have benefits for their retirees that have at least two options (makes sense, since if one fails you have the other).  Idaho's Senate voted today to cut state employee retiree benefits  and put them on a non-state administered medicare affiliated plan (Medicare Advantage, True Blue).  The federal funding of this plan is in jeopardy.  Idaho will remove state administration (this is the result of Gwartney at the DOA--such irony--dare I say corruption and cronyism at play here) and fund retirees for one plan AND ONE PLAN ONLY.  So many states have multiple (more than 4) options for retirees.  9 pay for all coverage.  Idaho will be one of 4 states that has strapped their seniors out and washed their hands of nearly all care, compensation, and responsibility.  

What does this bill say of us?  An economic emergency.  BS.  No, if there is an economic crisis then lets cut funding for new developments.  These folks whose benefits are at stake--they are our elders.  We owe them respect. 

Two Senators proposed amendments that would ask for a year waiting period to investigate further and communicate with state retirees (this is what the numerous former state employees repeatedly asked for in hearings).  These were defeated down party lines and then it was argued that the minority party was whining without solution giving...lets see...I know it was yesterday...but...DID YOU FORGET THE AMENDMENTS!  Whats more, they did not meet the burden of proof on the "emergency"  They lost this argument.  There is 80% more of one party and they lost the argument.  The really sad part--They passed the bill.  Three of the majority were brave enough to do the right thing.  

I seethed outside that door looking in at the smugness--next to one of the Governor's hinchmen.  "We'll see how they do in the next election" I said and stared back at him.  The rain fell harder outside, the wind blowing bits of fury.

the moon cannot be seen through the clouds

there--the moon is through the clouds

Why?

I am watching an episode of "The West Wing"  I haven't been this happy in a long time.  

Today I listened to the Majority argue for removing state health coverage from retired state employees and not agree to wait for a year at the pleading of the retirees and the Minority.  They won't wait.

Why?

River and Canyon--My Favorite Things

River was telling me a "few of his favorite things" the other day...I made his picks:  cats, hail, soccer into a song roughly similar to the famous ditty in the "Sound of Music"  he was not terribly entertained (given the quality of my singing voice) but it was fun for a sec.

Saturday I started a list in my head of my favorite things about my boys:

Canyon

The way his tiny limbs drape over my body in the night

The way he says "Want to hold you Mama" and tries to wrap his arms around me and "hold me" tight

The way he believes a "yellow horse lives under your bed" and the "horse is thirsty" so we have to "get it water"

How cute he is about every darn thing

River

How he has started getting up, picking out his favorite clothes and getting dressed

The way he will eat three bowls of salad if I add agave to the dressing

When he teaches me how to kick the soccer ball or flip the skateboard

When he helps his bro get something or understand something better

All the things he knows about all kinds of animals

The way my boys look playing in the light, running ahead with lovely friends (Qi and Tane) making games, swinging from bars, jumping and sculpting in the sand.

They woke up ravenous this morning (both emotionally and physically).  Canyon started early eating, apple-sauce, pancakes, strawberries, toast with jam and finishing, hours later, with tea before they seemed satisfied.  

__________________________________________________________________

River watched lots of t.v. this morning--my attempt to make up for the fact that I skipped over "Jack Hanna" (his favorite) when I saw "Meet the Press" (my favorite).  Oh, well a healthy dose of explanations of the dynamics of race and gender in the presidential primaries and a discussion of the implications of war couldn't hurt him.  He knows--he listens to franti--"bomb bomb"..."you might come back with one less leg but this one will surely keep a bullet from your chest"  he hears it, sings it, he knows, he knows the war is not o.k....he knows how important it is that it ends...Bob Schieffer talked about that today 1/3 of Americans are following the presidential race closely...not as many as follow some reality shows, only 6% of americans follow-the war closely--but it is not going to let us forget...I told river, when Panetta suggested the possibility of the nomination occurring in a "battle" at the convention, that I would go and fight there, he looked scared.  "No baby, with my words, not my body."  Not sure if that makes sense or is really that different.  

Sometimes I am buried by this--arms flailing, keeping my head above the water as the River pours me through the Canyon as I reach for roots to be grounded.  Sink my weight, become a rock in this formation, let it pass over me...flow by, wear me down and shape my contours.  

2 Believe In

Two bills gained momentum in the Idaho Legislature that are worthy of note this week.

Sb1392 passed the House and is on its way to the governor (The bill morphed into Sb 1431a after heading to the amending order out of committee).  This bill provides protections to homeowners subject to foreclosures.  It requires that when a notice of foreclosure is served--a filing at the first stage of foreclosure--It must give information pertaining to foreclosure rescue schemes and this must be done in the language that the original agreement was negotiated in.

In addition, the bill requires that if a jeopardized home-owner enters into agreements with a "foreclosure rescue service provider" that they have a five-day right of recision .  Wise legislation.  The legislation was pounded in Senate committee, and saw an interesting exchange on the floor.  At first it had an easy time in House committee,  but then the other dems (of all things) almost held the bill and considered sending it to the amending order.  Thankfully, that didn't happen.  The Department of Finance and the AG's office were instrumental in helping with information and testimony in favour of the bill.

Sb1443 relating  to allowances for the self-administration of life-saving medications by auto-injector  in public schools.  This legislation seemed to be a no brainer--and it turned out it was.  Sometimes though, rationality does not prevail, so we were very prepared with nursing association representatives and an emergency physician.  The legislation breezed through committee and it should have an easy time on the floor--Although the House is known for lengthy debates over simple issues.  Arguing over whether 100% fruit juice is better than corn-syrup is one example that comes to mind.

Both bills will have a positive affect on the citizens of Idaho.  Their easy passage was a relief.  Bills can take many paths when they enter the system:  they can be held without a hearing; they can be held with a no vote hearing; they can have a hearing and be held (this is when a bill is "killed in committee"; they can be sent to the amending order (where they can end up intact, bleed to death, or be radically transformed); they can go to the floor and die; they can go to the floor and live and die at some point on the other side of the process; or they can make it all the way to the Governor.  It is always satisfying when a good bill makes it to its destination, it is upsetting when a good bill doesn't, and it is really awful when a bad bill sails through.  

My postman today mentioned he hadn't seen me lately.  I told him I had started working and he, of course, asked where.  When I told him "the legislature" he said, "Oh, do they have some good laws going this year?"  and I said (in my typical provocative style) "Not as many good as bad."  He was slightly taken a-back and mumbled something about change coming.  "Yep" I said, "We'll see what happens in the next election." 

That really is it.  People don't realize that policy making sets the tone for a great deal of our daily lives that we take for granted.  (It also misses a lot--which continues to  persuade me towards subversivity).  It is time to change paths.  In so doing we will clear the way for progressive legislation that reflects caring and committed policy choices that truly serve all our citizens.  Something to believe in.

Creative Drudgery

Everything got wet today.

And the funny part is that even I got wet yesterday, stood in the hail--felt the wind--It didn't occur to me until after the weather today, while standing out on the deck with the boys that I had not taken down a thing from Canyon's Birthday Party.  The easel--still with paints and paper, watercolors too--the indoor mini-tramp, now wet, the turtle tent still out from the day after the party--How did I miss these things?

"We have seen how women, biologically distinguished from 'human.' Nature produced the fundamental inequality--half the human race must bear and rear the children of all of them--which was later consolidated, institutionalized, in the interests of men...Women were a slave class that maintained the species in order to free the other half for the business world--admittedly often its drudge aspects, but certainly all its creative aspects as well" (Shulamith Firestone, "Conclusion:  The Ultimate Revolution,"  The Dialectic of Sex).  

So am I failing to embody the drudgery?  Not so much--although if I don't do it, it won't get done (this is ofcourse true in the opposite direction although not nearly as widespread).

I had poor judgement with the boys tonight.  Canyon has a rash and I didn't want to use Aquaphor because it has funky stuff in it--I haven't gone to the store to get calendula cream.  So I thought I would use the herbal oil Ryan, our chinese med doc, told me to use on cuts and burns.  It didn't feel good.  I should have thought of that since I know, from experience, that I don't like it near my eyes, so why did I put it on his most tender little spot?  No idea...but he got another trip to the bath AND pretzels with peanut butter while in the tub!  Turns out, while not sanitary to eat in the bathroom, pretzels with peanut butter in the tub works great. Just wash off the mess.

I don't know if I relate as completely to Firestone as some.  Although her explanas is rather compelling.  However, I do stand on her back.  The foundations of her feminism are what have brought me to this point.  Her ideas still crucial. There are so many "fundamental inequalities." So much space for transformations.

Our Bodies

Transcendence and Immanence,  That is all that we are functioning in.  All these folks feeling that they somehow have reached a place outside of the feeling self--a place of enlightened consciousness where the mind controls the body.  But that is the thing. The mind is the body and so many peoples bodies are out of "control."

Really the binary is , again, the culprit in this equation.  You are not beyond your body...rather "you" are your body...we are it it is us and we are here material and sensory perceptions.  

So, I watch these decision makers transcend their bodies.  They believe they're functioning at the highest level of thinking--but really they are not.  Instead they are dragging the weight of a "weightless" immanence which they believe they have transcended (oh, its not just "they" it's really "we").

And why don't we all just move and dance and breathe and smile? Look at eachother directly, speak without sarcasm, laugh more?  Oh jeez, that is not what happens. Sometimes we let the breeze in through the window though.

Tonight I felt it dancing...the drum why get down with the groove?  Its so fun to the beat of the drum.  to twist, to rock , to spin and roll shake and jump earthquake fun.

Huh...it's really true...I've just never used words to describe the experience of the West African dances I do in my class.  We did Cassa first tonight--the "harvest dance" then Sor SorNet--which is so powerful.  But I can't remember the story...there's just a lot of elbowing through with the light and playfulness and also giving thanks.  

the drum reminds you that you have a heart.  a rather pleasant effect.

My Computer has a Past-Life

I realized that my computer (work) has a past today.  First it wore pinstripes, then it let the world turn, and then it came back to me!  Apparently it was trying to identify a past user that it couldn't locate...that got fixed and now its back...it regressed into a past-life...

The first indication of computerized consciousness.

micro morphs

I just noticed that I have used the word play in three of my last posts..that's good...I think.

So I did it.  I went into the garage today.  Yes, I actually moved things aside trying to find some books...Liz Grosz...my Marx-Engels Reader...it only sends me into a slight panic that I cannot find them...I really start breathing quickly when I touch any of the old books though...Such an intense embodied response.  Go with what I have, let the rest decompose more, rich soil from intellectual composting.

So then I walked in the foothills...it is nice to say I am a lady of the hills.  I am a woman who feels the roughness of the paths ahead against the soles (souls) of my feet.  I see the light, watch the tracks, smell the breeze...heightened eyes taking in the pugence of sage, processing the image of weather beaten rock.  How did I think I could write of pathways without walking them in the most literal sense?  

Canyon is finished with milk.  There, I wrote it, so its true.  Last night I rocked him as he whined "I want mama's milk," but he did fall asleep.  Then tonight, burrowing in, I held his mouth against the skin on my neck, arms firm around his body, I assured him of my love, he begrudgingly drifted off.  

I remember this with River...a more unconscious choice, one I regretted more...I always felt like I had nothing left to give, like it was eating me up at the end, but then when I quit I realized that it was school/work instead, not my sweet boy...this time, I simply am not present enough to make it worth it, but suddenly here I am again, no more nursing?  No more babies?  A path  I accidently chose (thankfully) one that now abruptly ends...but I wasn't ready for either of those things...any of these things...Now I just am them...passing, passing.

One Quick Thing Before I Go to the Park to Play...

There are three things I am planning to look at in coalition with each other in order to explore the variances these texts represent of my life at this moment:

"Conclusion:  The Ultimate Revolution" from The Dialectic of Sex 

Touchpoints:  The Essential Reference--Your Childs Emotional and Behavioral Development

A Thousand Plateaus:  Capitalism and Schizophrenia

I will report back soon...

GOOD NEWS

So there is good news...Today I descended into a nicely lit basement to spend 8 hours with approximately 35 folks...all involved in running for elected office with a conservation based slant.  We did not go outside...but other than that it was exciting...and this is why...are you ready?

There are many wonderful candidates running to oppose the majority in this upcoming election cycle that are DEMOCRATS!  Yay!  These folks from all over the state have lots of support, ambition and enthusiasm and are opposing sitting Repubs for all sorts of seats--including legislative senatorial and representative seats.  This is a dream come true!

There is a gentleman from Driggs who is younger, clearly bright and talented and eager...there is a gentleman from the Carpenter's Union who is amazingly likeable, and grounded in terms of advocating for the working class, there are several intelligent women, well-spoken and determined that are planning ambitious and change oriented campaigns...and there is new blood flowing throughout Ada County, as well as returning incumbents thathave already learned how to do good work within the frame of the legislature.  This is a very exciting time.

The best part (really I know I am demented a bit because of  my choice for best part)the whole day with great trainers from Oregon and lots of excellent info, still the best part of the day was when I heard Obama had won Wyoming.  BIG SIGH...Then I knew that it will be o.k.

I love Wyoming.  Such gorgeous land, wind blown rock formations.  So many implications too, that sweet baby and her mama in the accident there...the boy pulled behind the truck...dick cheney and his cronism...

FLASH

The Tetons

Horses

Plains

Lakes

Peaks...Snow capped crisp air...

Obama won Wyoming Today

BLUE GIRLS RED STATES

Binarchy

Visiting with a friend tonight and he said..."We don't need Bush, Clinton, Bush, Clinton while we wait for Jeb to get ready to Run!  Enough of the Binarchy! End the Binarchy!

I couldn't agree more.  And I remain so overwhelmed by this situation.  A false choice is being created in which the candidates can either go negative or lose the nomination.

No, to be principled Obama must not fall into a negative campaign.  

The other day a co-worker and friend asked me "Would you rather have Clinton or McCain as President or Obama go negative?" Of course I chose the latter option....No.  I would not rather have Clinton or McCain.  If it came down to that then Yes, Obama may go negative...But if this is truly transformational politics there is a pathway around this binary opposition.  If he is a transformational figure he will walk that path.  Is that what must sustain me now?  Hope?  

I have realized what it is...it is the power of recognition.  Of knowing you have been seen, felt, sensed in all your complexity.  That is where the depth of this sensation comes from... Not so scary.  Full of possibility (ies)?

Two Choose

So this is the pathway choice right now.  Where to put passion?  I am contemplating two professional paths.  Do I go with the tippy turvy life of campaign and policy making...or enter the non-profit sector and work on mobilizing folks to promote green energy?

The lure and nonstaticity of the legislature is breathtaking.  All these decisions being made that shape important policies that shape our lives.  

And Infuriating.  So many resolutions...very few enactions.

Its a very lucky thing to be contemplating two career paths that mean something to me.  That seems rare...because it is so challenging to follow a passion and make ends meet.  

Alienation.  Disintigration.  Exploitation.

Freedom, Justice, Peace, Love, Hope, Change, Transform

Lets Play!

To be true to my original intent in starting this blog, I would like to write about my children.

Mommying is hard for me.  I love it, I am a natural at many aspects of it.  But I am also unfulfilled by it.  I know, that is considered entirely unacceptable.  But its true.  I like to work, and I like to be with my children--I wouldn't want to have one without the other.  Granted--I sometimes long for my stretchy comfy mama clothes and days of play and sunshine.  But I need both aspects now.  

Tonight I had an interesting time putting the boys down.  Canyon was rambunctious in the tub and threw a fit when I got him out.  So I just let him throw a fit. Then he stopped, played under the covers with his big bro and we read books.  They tried to sleep together, but C couldn't stop talking, so he moved down...hummmmmed himself to sleep, all the while chattering to baby doll.  Sweet boys.  

Little bones growing bigger.  Still carrying a baby on my hip.  A baby who is turning into long-limbs and complex illiterations.  I am so tired I look at them through blurry eyes and feel myself zone away.  No focus, this is fun, lets play.

Does Anyone Want to Play? I am Having a Political Crisis!

How do I maintain an energetic commitment to this process when it is relentlessly continuing forward unresolved?  I have been wrapped around this effort.  I am waning in terms of stamina.  

Is what I have tonight.  When people at work enthusiastically brought up this race to me in the a.m. I had a total gag reflex.  I said, please lets not talk about it--it makes me sick.  

I was surprised by my response.  I totally said it, but everyone thought it as way over the top...the truth is that's how I feel.  Sick about this.  It is a feeling based on powerlessness.  What can I do?  At one point in this campaign I had the realization that Obama did need focus and energy.  So I built an alter, lit candles, put powerful and noble animals and even a race car on it.  Not in a religious worship way but in an invoking interconnectedness and support way.  

All of this sounds ridiculous, but then I remind myself that I studied the subject of embodied political interconnected consciousness for three years in grad school.  I believe that subjects have embodied responses to political systems.  Disease of the body is reflected in the dis-ease of the nation (or Patria, which gets at the notion of blood and lineage, which is a central component of our physical understandings as well).  In any case the point:   I was sick because of the detox that is occurring through an intensive and involved political process...WE ARE ON THE VERGE OF SOMETHING BIG.  my instinct to build an alter is all about tapping into a larger politICal conteXt which maybe even touChes at the Mystical notion of democracy.

I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT IF OBAmA IS ELECTED HE WILL SOMEHOW MAGICALLY TRANSFORM THIS NATION.  I believe he would lead this nation into a new political plane in which we are inspired to confront the impending challenges this country is facing.  I believe we have been waiting for --to use a geological term-- an earthquake in our political landscape.   It's shaken up.  I am terrified that for some reason, the resolution of the dialectical contradiction will be blocked...o.k., so now I've revealed I'm a Marxist and that explains why I love Obama's historical significance.  Marx bases his primary premises on a notion expressed in "Theses on Feuerbach"  :  people make and are made by materiality.  The idea that Obama can fix this nation is farfetched.  The idea that he can hep this nation heal itself is not.

The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point is to change it" (Marx, www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1845/theses/theses.htm)

But this dis-ease is deep.  It has infected our cells it has grown like a cancer--war, violence, exploitation...all symptomatic of a greater imbalance...of course we must act to enact change.  Of course no matter what we are in for a trial...but history is made and makes our own choosing. 

So I called 13 people in Texas in the last 20 minutes of work tonight...CNN is reporting it too close to call right now.  There is a choice and it is fundamental and it will be instrumental.

There is also SOUTH AMERICA

And it is connected to us via Central America and Mexico.  

I've been so focused locally, I want to think globally.  Nay, not want insist that we all must considering that both Venezuela and Ecuador are amassing troops at their border in order to exhibit a defensive reaction to Colombia's behavior when it crossed the border into Ecuador and killed one of FARCS top officials (In the current global climate FARC is characterized as a "terrorist" organization.  Their roots are in guerrilla warfare in opposition to a repressive regime.  I think they would have been called communists in the 80's, although certainly the level of violence deployed is extreme.  

I am not an expert in this region. But I do love Mexico and Central America in a deep way and I have studied these political climates and histories enough to understand that the U.S. is a key component of these persisting disfunctionalities.  The deeply imbedded US interests in Colombia are more than disturbing.  

www.atlapedia.com/online/maps/political/Colombia_etc.htm

I wish I knew how to upload a map of the region but just to be more materializing, Colombia is the country that the Panama empties on to.  Then Venezuela is to the East and Ecuador is to the West.  Peru borders Ecuador and Brazil is to the South of Colombia and Venezuela.  The Carribean is to the North of Venezuela (Generally Speaking of directions...they all lean a bit like the land..ahhh that reminds me of the Yucata'n)...

And that reminds me of the point which is...This is close to a full-blown war! 

"Mr, Defense Minister, move 10 battalions to the border with Colombia for me, immediately--tank battalions.  Deploy the air force," Hugo Chavez, President of Venezuela said. "We don't want war, but we aren't going to permit the U.S. empire, which is the master (of Colombia)...come to divide us" (AP, Ian James, 3/3/08).

All this space is connected.  We are not floating here.  Borders are arbitrary lines drawn to protect property for segments of populations that create differentiations and then hierarchize them to legitimate control of resources.  We will feel this war if it continues to impend.  So will the people of South America and the rest of our world.   

Tesla.  I heard an NPR story on him.  I get the Ac /Dc thing between him and Edison.  The quintessential mad scientist (only the Serbian (Croat) aspect was interesting to me...what a great distance to travel during that time period) (1880's).  He is the archetypal mad scientist.  I also heard that he and Mark Twain were great friends after Tesla cured Twain's years long constipation through sending high voltages of electricity through him.   Yeah,  can you imagine how much better he felt?  No wonder they were friends!

www.leyada.jlm.k12.il/proj/edntsla/hist1.htm

But they used to go around and shock eachother for fun.

There are electrical currents around me at all times.  Right now, at this magical little machine i am taking in electrical currents, and ( i think( some radioactivity).  Then what I write is transmitted...well if it goes out it comes in and is all around.  I live at the base of a hillside...all the currents above me flow through this base down to the rest of the city.  These are invisibilities that certainly affect my behavior. 

Thing is i am thinking of all this tonight with a dear friend DB that I have known for many years (10) and somehow her Great Serbian Grandfather named Tesla comes up.  And I'm like "You're Tesla's Great Grandaughter? and she is.   

Canyon's Birthday.  He was born right here two years ago...Tonight going to F. Church Banquet.  Yes, proud to be a democrat today. And River is as serious as he looks...but he's just joshin' ya if you think he's mad.

Two Birth Banquet

I went to the Frank Church Banquet tonight with my dad.  A true democratic lovefest.  Fed the soul drank the whiskey, rubbed the elbows  mmmmhmmmm.

Twoday was Canyon's 2nd birthday.  We started early with mama story time and explanations of when the party would start...way later, warmer, brighter, after the dogs run, jump, skip, blimp, boat, ski and hike.  you know...a dog party.

I explained how he was born, right there at that spot in the room, remember coming out, the light was the same, you were tiny, River cut the cord.  Remember how much work that was? Remember we did that together?

I sat in house hearings about midwifery this week and it was good I lost my nametag, because I was livid in  committee.  These docs were so insulting and superior.  Unable to acknowledge the expertise of these women.  Connected to life giving, too much closeness, arbitrary condescension supersedes.  Infuriating, because birth is hard, but not impossible.  Do not medicalize me..allow these women recognition.  What do your fear?  This boy, born on the floor, in the livingroom.  This bigger boy born in Jersey, landlady worrying on the other side of the wall.  Magic of birth moves beyond fear.  I am meant to have these babies.  These boys.  Why condense my power to a  categorized and monitored electronic measured experience?  Leave our birth alone.  But why the law?  It is this or no distinctions.  This is not the same as that.  Lay is a term...with motion. Choose it or license.  This is the world.  Legitimate or evaporate.  So these mid-wives did the same.  Good.  Made it out of committee, a miracle, but senate side is tricky, if it even makes it there.

A Sandwich of Political Defeat

I lived this week in a sandwich of political defeat.  I watched two fantastic bills be killed by the same committee.  Both, were relevant to environmentalists and both carefully articulated the need for energy efficient building designs due to economic concerns.  Even couched in the language of cost savings energy efficiency in not palpable in the Idaho legislature.  The Chairmen of the committee, who is on the energy task force that unanimously sent one of the bills to the committee in the first place, ensured the bill was held with his tie breaking "no" vote. (although it was not as heroic as all that) he slipped out of that tie, watching for cues from party leadership, clearly unable to think and act on his own.

I was disgusted.  I grew up trained in critical argumentation.  When I used to debate it was mostly a simple case, even in the more complex rounds of "Win the arguments, Win the debate" that doesn't happen here.  You can cream the competition and still lose.  A person with little expertise, or savvy in the language and intent of legislation can form a barely articulated position of opposition and the bill will be dead.  

There is the possibility that a watered down version of the 2nd bill will pass, and at first that pleased me.  But I was talking to some activist energy folks about that and they said it would just be better to say that the majority party killed all energy efficiency legislation.  Why pass a bill that does nothing (and it looks like the bill is getting close to a complete removal of any significant mandate)?  I'm not sure, perhaps a small step will get these guys closer to the edge--either pushing them to realization (unlikely) or pushing them out (all I hope for right now).

So which pathway is it?  Do we hold firm to our standards, insist that legislation remain potent and true to its intent or do we compromise and find satisfaction in symbolic tiny steps towards recognition that there is  a severe energy crisis (statewide, nationally, globally)?  Idaho is already behind, already moving backwards by virtue of not moving forwards...soon there may not be a choice, soon we may not be left with a chance to change policy...because we will be searching for modes to power our lives.  The comfort zone will shrink, options will be limited, resources scarce, need will outweigh civility.  I don't know how far away this is but it feels close.

Maybe I am watching the reels of a movie whose plot and moral has already been filmed.  The final reels of a story whose historical significance has already found its place.  The voices fade, the color recedes, this is the final chapter, the frame repeats...repeats, shudders and is gone.