I used to believe

First, feel free to check out this site that welcomes your recollections of childhood beliefs. Things that you used to believe, but found out later weren't true.

It's here: http://www.iusedtobelieve.com/

Mine? I thought goldfish were piranhas. That is the only thing that kept me out of the aquarium that we had in our living room.

We're very close to purchasing our first home...this close. I've added the photos to flickr, I'm getting jazzed about this. Just started packing today, Jason's been at it all week.

--I should go help J, he's putting food together for tonight's potluck. Spinach, something something. I've been cooking a lot lately, it's part of the benefit of being at home. I hope that we start slow cooking in the new house, pressure cooking -- we got the equipment months ago, but haven't used it yet!

"Choose your soup"

We began our search for a home yesterday. Pretty houses, lots of potential. The realtor was direct about her thoughts on each house. There were two that stood out.

The first is a rambly ranch. Rooms are laid out in an unusual fashion. There is a shop.

The second has a greenhouse, funny second floor, decent footage and a ridiculous extra - the closet that connects two rooms. A feature I never would've imagined as an option, were I to build a house. The closet is perfectly normal otherwise - it appears to have been created out of a door between the rooms - guess the house is that old. Meaning that folks probably used chests or armoirs to house their clothes. So there weren't any closets.

We saw a third space: a 1920's craftsman just completely rife with charm. Front porch, each room with a view, huge yard. It had an upstairs area that would need work - a lot of work, to make it easily saleable -- but was charming and open, making the most of the available space. It's just that the space is awkward and kind of funny.

It was lovely to do this with Jason -- we are both so careful with each other's needs and that is obvious throughout the process. We are both so concerned with making sure we'll have what we need, we are paying a lot of attention to the details.

I'm writing stories about the houses, drawing layouts in my journal. It's fascinating to attach to the goal, vs. the building expectations. It appears to assist the process.

"You just don't know how to have fun..."

Tonight, J & I went out to see a musician in the trendiest section of town. Fortunately for us, it was not the trendiest venue -- we didn't have to fight off dissasociated hordes, nor did we have to play it cool. We went to a local importer's shop & saw a sufi performer (I hear) that played and played for us tonight. The best was that I so needed to dance.

Even though it's technically one day after a 3-month sabbatical, I'm raring to start my new work. That work is not what I have done for the last three months & also deviates from the norm in significant ways, meaning I don't have a boss telling me what to do.

Now is probably the time to say that my last boss was terrific, he trusted me to do the right thing and pushed me over my own limitations more times than I can count. I can't thank him enough & I can't help but notice an eerie resemblance to my current sitch. Being that I can't count on someone coming out of the woodwork & saying "Hey, here's an opportunity. Why don't you go and get that one??".

So, thing is, I've been raring to go and my first art show is in November -- my first job interview (part-time, presumably non-profit) is a week from Tuesday -- so tension has been building up. It very much got released tonight, when hand touched drum and foot touched ground. I could've turned all night to the funky beat that was being laid down & I wouldn't have been alone.

We were invited by pals in J's band. They suggested that we join the musician that made such an impact on Mike during the Bumbershoot festival. By the way, I have a theory that "Mike" is the most common sufi name. I am so confident of this trivial fact that I've recommended, more than once, that J take "Mike" as his official, sufi name.

We arrived, after a dinner of homemade albondigas. Immediately, it's obvious to me that we can turn at this event & so, there's no hesitation. J is more circumspect & takes up an instrument instead -- eventually helping out E (5 yr old) with his drawings of eyes. I'm ready to stop, but this musician is not & encourages me along with the other sufi folks in the crowd. We turn together & apart -- and for a long time (2 hrs?) before the music has exhausted itself & it's time to go.

We finish up the night at Sophia's. We've brought treats, but Sophia is the bomb & makes pasta with marinated tomatoes. E doesn't like those (5 yr old, remember?) and so chit chats instead, about his nascent desire to become a ninja, favorite movies (Porco Rosso, Return of the cat & what sounded like "Pompoko") and where he lived when he was three. Good times all around, and J & I go home. He's snoozing now, but I'm up, having misjudged my energy levels & taken a nap earlier.

The punchline? I said to J that I hadn't expected the evening to be so boring. MB suggested that I just don't know how to have fun...

This weekend looks chock full & I'm cool with that. Friends, house-hunting and more await us & so I leave you all...

Good weekend -- take care

More ways to help

Check out this site for more ideas on helping out folks recovering from Katrina.

More pics available

Diablo Lake pics are up. We had a great time, after a few initial discussions about who wanted to camp when and where and what we wanted to do. The campsite was peaceful and beautiful, we'll go back a bunch of times, I'm wagering.

Everywhere we went, we were traveling alongside folks taking much fuller advantage of the beauty of the North Cascades, lots of fishermen, hikers, folks with canoes, etc. Our car looked way less utilitarian compared to others loaded down with all manner of mountain appropriate equipment.

Even without crampons or a tent that could hang on a cliffside, we were able to enjoy the mountain range, the clean air and critters. We were beset, of course, by stellar jays and douglas squirrels, the latter chiding us as they do when we were eating (not sharing) and when we were putting food away.

It rained almost the entire time, which really put me off, but once the tent was up and we were in it, it was obvious that the rain was falling on the trees mainly and hardly at all on us. Our one hike along the river was easy and dry, even though we could hear the rain almost the whole time.

Diablo lake, Ross lake are both strikingly jade/turqouis colored -- due to the rock "flour" found in the water. The sunbreaks were very bright and made it tougher to capture that color, but it was still amazing to shoot.

Is it racist?

Listening to NPR & This American Life, the episode that came out a week after the Hurricane. It dabbles in the positive, the familiar sounding fairness and superhuman strength in crisis that I actually grew up with, most of the time.

Then there is the more predominant perspective, also familiar, suspicion of black folks. The stories told during this episode fracture along color lines. It's been a topic that folks have brought up in discussion and I thought I'd weigh in here. My gut is that the media perpetuates specific racist responses in society. I also think that on the other side of it, the media encourages a wildly inappropriate sense of entitlement that almost incessantly focuses on material goodies. This usually isn't a problem, but becomes one in times of crisis.

It should be simple to focus on the present - to strip yourself of your ambitions and make sure those around you are safe -- but if you cannot, it's impossible to help. I think that the folks who got out did the best they could, and that their relatives and friends did the best they could and that somehow, folks got the message that it was ok to take care of just your own. I think that folks who are further out, and the media, did the normal song and dance around racism, once it was obvious that the majority of folks affected are black.

Growing up in DC, I found this alarming -- in my highschool an eye opening spontaneous poll involved asking the class what they thought the percentage of black folks was in America, I guessed around 70%, not the national average of 13% -- because I was looking at who was around me and counting. Now that I've been in Seattle for 16 years, I am living in the first neighborhood that is regularly policed, bright, open and safe. I initially found Seattle frighteningly white. Not because I don't get it that I'm white, it's because I remember the hostile looks white folks would give my friends and could sense the tension I felt spending time with folks who could run into predjudice many times a day.

That, plus learning through experience that my every attempt to liberally repair the damage caused by my people visited on black folks was inevitably not enough, somehow resulted in me not having a chip on my shoulder about racism. I get it. It sucks, is intractible and will take life times to reverse. And I think it was a big fat factor in the resistance we all saw to helping black folks in Katrina's levy breaking wake.

So, that's my soapbox moment. I think we can slam the media not just for it's support of racism (through repeated assumptions around black folks) but can also slam it for it's relentless hawking of entitlement. It's really not appropriate.

Flickr, Diablo lake and more...

I've opened a Flickr account - you can see the latest photos from the Woodland Park Zoo, Bumbershoot and various polaroids there. I'll keep doing galleries on this site, but Flickr loads images in their original size, and that's a real benefit for sharing.

We're heading out to Diablo lake tomorrow - after a work picnic for J's crew. The hikes we have been able to research for the area around Diablo all look daunting - which hasn't stopped J before, but he says he'd like to enjoy his time with me there, so I imagine we'll not do the Sourdough hike (5 miles at a 20% grade, for an 11 mile hike) at the very least. Here's an album of folks who did a 10-day hike around nearby Ross Lake that I just got from J. Dig the suspension foot bridge over Devil's Creek.

Too much information

I've been surfing around, looking at the Katrina info on the web & am overwhelmed by it. I've checked maps, donated money and asked J whether or not we can host a family from the region. I'm going to ween myself from the media blitz, since I'm spinning my wheels in the muck of the aftermath & can actually do more without the blitz. Donate, if you haven't yet & if you're thinking genius thoughts about how to help, feel free to share.

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J shaved his head on Friday, after he heard that his barber would be away until the 20th. He asked if I cared, because the results would be random, and I was able to say I don't.

I am very easy-going about what other folks do in their lives. When I think of why that is - it comes up that I am in a place right now where I'm observing my behavior, shaping it slowly - if at all. Overall, I think there's more value to observing oneself, given the idea that one's actions are largely shaped by untold external stimuli (think parents, significant others, coworkers, friends, etc). I remember thinking last December that I actually couldn't figure out what was driving me anymore, internally, because I had made efforts to adopt behaviors that other folks had recommended. I saw success from those efforts, but hadn't internalized them & so was relying on others too much to keep up with my habits.

I'm rounding out the end of three months off, three months to reflect on what I actually want and what actually drives me. It's been interesting to revisit unstructured time - I've been more ambitious & less productive than the last five years I spent working. I'm rested now, as a result, which is awesome. I'm looking for sustainable accomplishments - something I can do for, say, the rest of my life. I can look back and see what I'm capable of -- and I can see what it cost me. The rest of the year looks amazing - I'll have my hands full even if I only focus on baby steps.

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How to wash a cat

My oldest sister is an animal person. She practically raised me, so I'm an animal person too. I favor cats, which is tough cause I'm a friend to many who are allergic. That's not what this story is about, but it's worth mentioning.

My favorite cat is Jema. She's 16 years old and is having tougher times keeping herself clean. We've stepped up our brushing and general care - but she's getting dreds and so she needs a bath. A bath is a tough thing for cats, but can be tougher for the people giving the bath.

My sister had a tomcat when I was growing up - buddy. Buddy would show up sometimes, after thunderstorms, I recall. He'd be post-fight and covered with a mix of blood and mud. I remember my teenage sister closing the door to the bathroom, emerging after a while with scratches on her arms and a screaming tomcat, now clean but clearly unhappy. J had similar memories of their feral cat and baths that his dad gave - same screaming cat, same scratches as a result.

Jema and I have had a good time together & I don't like to freak her out. When she was a kitten, I made sure to touch her between her toes, to acclimate her to me giving care when it felt awkward. I haven't been a terrific care giver, I'm always going to hang my head about the terror of her litter box (although I'm always working to improve). But I have done well by her baths.

J was understandably concerned when first we bathed her together. The best thing for cats, really, is to let them clean themselves. But now we have our system down. We grab a bunch of towels, shampoo, J's added music to the mix (Try a little tenderness), and a bucket to keep the waterstream going. Jema is accustomed to this by now - after we load up the bathroom, we bring her in and set her in the tub without water at first. She kinda stands there for a while & looks at us with a "now what" look. I start the water, warmer now that she's arthritic and pour bucketfulls over her - smushing the water into her resistant fur. When she's soppy, she gets soaped, her face last. I let water fill to her kitty ankles, it's easier to get soap off with water in the tub. We usually have about 20 minutes before she meows to get out.

When we're done, there's a quick switch to the towels. Cats like to feel secure (and will scratch if you leave their claws in reach) so we wrap her tightly in towels at the end. I grab her first because I've known her longer. J follows up with another towel and another, until she's wrapped like a baby in a papoose. I take her into the living room and just hold her, while the towels soak up heaps of water. This time J read to us while we all sat in the living room. I would occassionally scratch Jema's ear, loosening the soppy fur on her head idly while listening to J reading. We usually get another 20 minutes while she sits - a bit stunned - in her papoose. Then she'll complain and I'll put her down. We've learned not to let her outside after a bath. I'm not sure what the impulse is, but when we've let her out before, she scrubs dirt into her wet fur, demolishing any apparant cleanliness. Instead she goes somewhere in the house where we can't find her. After a few hours, she comes upstairs again. Usually in a few more, she wants to be brushed and will hang out with us again. The best is that the next day - she's a few years younger - totally clean and very happy.

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We're heading down to Bumbershoot in a half hour. J is now pulling pics off his digital camera. We'll see Meredith Monk and a friend, in one of the bands he plays in -- Dauddah Guys.

It'll be great to get out & it'll be nice to kick the week off with an event like this. There's heaps going on through the week & we're hoping to camp in the Cascades this weekend. That's not all - I've got a list a mile long of things I'm working on - photo work, painting work, non-profit work. I've got my new biz card for astrology readings - I'm bringing some with me to bumbershoot. School's back in session & I don't know anyone who isn't taking advantage of the move towards getting things done.

Don't forget to donate, ok?

Time to help some more

Sounds like Katrina and subsequent flooding have created absolute havoc in New Orleans and along the Mississippi. I've kicked in some money and urge you all to do the same. Click anywhere on this text to get to the Red Cross.