Sometimes

Sometimes you have to take drastic measures. Like when there's a heat wave. And even with your AC cranked for three days, the heat seems to be trapped inside you and all you can think of eating is fruit and vegetables. Cold. Or maybe both together.


Two nights ago I made this cold buttermilk tomato soup. It was pretty good. And definitely cold. But I really loved how the buttermilk looked swirling into the jug...


And no, this is not desert. It was last night's dinner. Zucchini soup and summer squash, cucumber and cantaloupe salad. Really really good.

These Days, Everything's in FLux

Actually, everything's always in flux. My mind pulled two ways. Do I want relative ease--comfort--in Nepal? Or to be close to Holiness in hellish India? Or lots of time in Tibet and facing my fear of altitude sickness?

And sorting through my endless detritus--poems and papers with names of books I want to read and bands to check out and movies to watch and recipes to make. Because in 27 days I'll be homeless for 14 months! Moving from place to place. Baltimore to New York to Massachusetts to Hong Kong to Chengdu to Kham to Kathmandu to Pharping. Pharping to Bangkok to Bangalore to Bodghaya.

I like to have a nest--surrounded by all my clothes and books and papers. But there's too much stuff. Too many toiletries and catalogs and magazines. Too many shoes. Too much everything! So my motto/struggle now is SIMPLIFY. It scares me that I seemed to have an easier time doing this four years ago when K and I basically sold everything we owned and went to Asia for the first time. This time I don't have as much stuff here in Baltimore as I did then in Colorado. But it's still hard paring things down to the essentials. Alloting myself just two big tupperwares of things to bring with me this summer. And then narrowing that down to just one small pack when we leave in Sept.

I know by then I'll feel exhilarated, sort of free and so much less encumbered than I do now...No bills, no cooking or cleaning to do. But today, these days, I feel a little daunted. So many bits and pieces to sift through. So much to let go of.

Upstate Take 2

We camped at the bottom of this little hill.

In the morning the grass was covered in tiny glistening water droplets and spiderwebs and dewey caterpillars.

And...More Things That Make Me Happy

Today is the first day of the Strawberry Moon...(last month was the Flower Moon).
A fitting breakfast of strawberries, coconut water and kefir...

I love second breakfasts!! Chocolate chip coconut banana bread and chai.

Other things:

Bits of red string and cheesecloth and balloons. Kira Kira. Twine and a tiny watercolor set imprinted with cats. Dear Nora. Katy Davidson. Parachutes. William Eggleston (http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKUK_MPByHkg7_4wTWkqnGsivHl_yNcZ4GLiDKvYbDR6KcMj1y_TNILMWG1ysBhpLrKGSYHiLVvVRMRDyIPsp2Tgv0JBwzoQsumJN_VT-aaB5lfVkb1hRsFTTIYp3cF0l-fl-IRrovSsk/s400/arsl04_eggleston.jpeg&imgrefurl=http://photo-muse.blogspot.com/2007/08/william-egglestons-5x7-and-new-american.html&h=277&w=400&sz=37&hl=en&start=6&um=1&tbnid=9nNkoYO4d4pn4M:&tbnh=86&tbnw=124&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dwilliam%2Beggleston%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den)

It's Summer In My Mind

The Farmer's Market makes me so happy....

Especially this man...I have a weakness for old guys anyway....But this one in particular always gets me...He sits on the end of his truck so patiently watching everyone go by. And he has the sweetest smile. After I thanked him for letting me take his picture he said he hoped he didn't break my camera...

Irises that smell like grapes (from the guy above)...

Yay for spring peas and asparagus and strawberries and black-raspberry kefir!

Moving............

I've got 39 days to pack three years worth of accumulated stuff...Papers and recipes and books and clothes and spices? The countdown is officially on.

Seabear play I Sing I Swim in Sindri and Inga's lounge room

More Seabear!!!!!!!!!

Odds and Ends

She pulled chunks of stained glass from the ocean (in my dream). His body flowing down the page. Gramp's old rotary phone on the wall by the cuckoo clock. That day held me prisoner. A ripening headache. An old tree covered in glitter. And tired. And how can I stand it? How can any of us? Everything under wraps--nothing decoded. Oh to run in the snow and be free and open. Grains of rice swell. Water droplets drip. I imagine my word swirl around you, the distance it brings. His burns will heal, but when did I stop looking at trees? This is the year 2134? Slip of thigh. The leaf of days. He showed me a picture of her when she was young. He'd had it in his wallet 65 years. We sat on brown swivel stools, arms leaning on yellow formica. (You are) an artichoke's sweet aftertaste. Want to preserve my thoughts like a bug in amber--the irony. At the sink, sun reflects off the blade of a knife.

Upstate

Endless fields and long grass and tiny blue wildflowers and deer and birds nesting in the grass.

And Holiness.

And the worst headache of my life. And nausea and tears.