OY
Couldn't and wouldn't post on this blog for a very long time. The last post was the announcement of my first pregnancy--which ended in late February of 2007.
Then, when I was finally ready to get back to business--Blogger had changed some stuff around and I couldn't figure out how to access it.
So, here it is.
My focus is the other site for now...
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Well, this look won me the award of "Naughtiest" at Susanne and Juli's Annual Holiday Cocktail party last night. Look at me--does that look "Naughty" to you?
Maybe it was because I campaigned for that category's vote ("Vote for me--I'll show you Naughty!")
However--
I think it was the story behind the Gothlocks (those sweet little springs on the back of my head) that did it: My friend Ed won those Gothlocks at the recent Fetish Ball here in Seattle for wearing a truly marvelous custom-made, self-designed leather outfit to the occasion.
Did I mention that my friend Ed is 77?
Naughty Gothlocks!
My prize--a necklace made of two lumps of coal--hangs proudly on my vanity...
Monday, December 04, 2006
Courtesy of one of my favorite blogs, Skepitco, I was made aware of this article from the Guardian.
It's interesting-- a call against proffering respect to people and organizations simply because they claim a religious view point. Not focusing on any one religion, he makes a point about how actions, contribution and behavior are what should demand respect, not merely posessing a belief system.
To paraphrase the article writer, the absolutely unprovable claims of any and all religious belief systems shouldn't govern the actions of others, not even the pen of a cartoonist--we would never hold a politician as above the commentaries of political cartoonists merely because of her political beliefs.
Taking the concept further, it's just ridiculous that a consenting gay adult's ability to marry is halted by the unfounded and unproven belief system of our country's dominant religion.
And, the ridiculousness of the situation doesn't stop there.
Did you ever stop to think about how impossible it would be for a secular humanist to be elected president in our country?
Chile, a predominantly Catholic country, elected an atheist, socialist single mother --Michelle Bachelet-- to its highest post of President last January. She was seen as the best person for the job--and her theological beliefs did not stop people from recognizing this.
I think about people like Hillary Clinton or John McCain and wonder if they are truly religious--or just faking it so as not to scare the church types. I would be just as pissed as the Christians if that were the case, but for different reasons.
We give lip service to separation of church and state--but who really believes it?
It's interesting-- a call against proffering respect to people and organizations simply because they claim a religious view point. Not focusing on any one religion, he makes a point about how actions, contribution and behavior are what should demand respect, not merely posessing a belief system.
To paraphrase the article writer, the absolutely unprovable claims of any and all religious belief systems shouldn't govern the actions of others, not even the pen of a cartoonist--we would never hold a politician as above the commentaries of political cartoonists merely because of her political beliefs.
Taking the concept further, it's just ridiculous that a consenting gay adult's ability to marry is halted by the unfounded and unproven belief system of our country's dominant religion.
And, the ridiculousness of the situation doesn't stop there.
Did you ever stop to think about how impossible it would be for a secular humanist to be elected president in our country?
Chile, a predominantly Catholic country, elected an atheist, socialist single mother --Michelle Bachelet-- to its highest post of President last January. She was seen as the best person for the job--and her theological beliefs did not stop people from recognizing this.
I think about people like Hillary Clinton or John McCain and wonder if they are truly religious--or just faking it so as not to scare the church types. I would be just as pissed as the Christians if that were the case, but for different reasons.
We give lip service to separation of church and state--but who really believes it?
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Requiem
Christine Howe was the best hugger I knew.
She would greet me with with her musical, sing song voice--"Well, hi there Kellie!", slide up to me, wrap her arms around me while kissing me (with a "mmmmm!"), bend her knees so they would touch and grip mine--and then she would wriggle, shaking and rocking me in her embrace.
She knew how to make people feel absolutely loved.
She was the rare soul who would let me know exactly where I stood with her. I never had to guess whether there was anything unsaid--her love and support came complete with clear, unabridged communication. If she wasn't happy with me, I knew it--but it never rankled. She was a straight shooter, with the rare innocence that seems to accompany those with such earnestness.
She was one of the healthiest people I knew--at 52 she put my 35 years to shame. Her toned and vibrant body was maintained with her vegetarian diet, regular cleanses, ample exercise.
Nothing makes one feel one's own mortality more strongly than finding out that someone as healthy and alive as Christine had a cancerous brain tumor.
She was diagnosed July of '05.
With the support of her husband Jon, son Tyler, and a bevy of loved ones in her community, she managed to live a pretty full life in the following year, visiting friends and loved ones in Europe and Mexico, all the while doing what she could do to not give way to the cancerous intruder. For awhile, the lack of growth in her tumor lulled us all into thinking she was beating it.
Before we left for our trip in October, we got word that the tumor had resumed growing; while we were away, Jon's emails brought heavy hearted news that Christine was rapidly declining.
When we returned we were able to spend some time with her, seeing the Christine we loved through the symptoms of the damage that the tumor growth was wreaking on her brain. As the days passed she went from being able to spend some time in a wheel chair, to not leaving her bed. All the while she was cared for at home by Jon and Tyler.
A week later, last Saturday the 18th, we all gathered at Jon and Christine's house. It was unplanned--just a gravitation of loved ones to their place, wanting to witness, support, soak in this hallowed, heart wrenching experience. It was indescribable, these hours--such a combination of love, grief, joy, fellowship that pulsed through rooms among all who were present.
We took turns holding vigil in her bedroom--three of us at a time sitting on the floor or on the bed next to her--holding her when the seizures convulsed her body every ten minutes. Murmuring to her, "Just let go, sweetheart..."
As Taryn noted, it almost felt like being a midwife...every convulsion was like a contraction. We hoped that she would use our strength, our presence to aid her transition. But that blessed woman, that strong, vibrant woman wasn't ready to go quite yet. She seemed so far out of her body, in a persistent slumber, unresponsive to all her gathered around her.
But, the next night, Sunday, when Jon leaned in and whispered to her, "Marry me..."
She replied, "Okay..."
I massaged Jon last Friday--I was so grateful to him for letting me "help". I appreciate Jon so much--both he and Tyler have been so gracious in sharing this deeply personal experience with all of us.
As I worked on him, he mused about the concept of "helping someone die"--what, really, was there to help?
"I think," I mused, thinking about Taryn's analogy of midwifery,"that both birth and death will happen regardless of whether there is help to be had, or not. But isn't it much better to have loved ones nearby to ease the way?"
Christine died last night at 8:51pm.
The email we received from Jon this morning:
Christine, thank you, I love you, I miss you.
Christine Howe was the best hugger I knew.
She would greet me with with her musical, sing song voice--"Well, hi there Kellie!", slide up to me, wrap her arms around me while kissing me (with a "mmmmm!"), bend her knees so they would touch and grip mine--and then she would wriggle, shaking and rocking me in her embrace.
She knew how to make people feel absolutely loved.
She was the rare soul who would let me know exactly where I stood with her. I never had to guess whether there was anything unsaid--her love and support came complete with clear, unabridged communication. If she wasn't happy with me, I knew it--but it never rankled. She was a straight shooter, with the rare innocence that seems to accompany those with such earnestness.
She was one of the healthiest people I knew--at 52 she put my 35 years to shame. Her toned and vibrant body was maintained with her vegetarian diet, regular cleanses, ample exercise.
Nothing makes one feel one's own mortality more strongly than finding out that someone as healthy and alive as Christine had a cancerous brain tumor.
She was diagnosed July of '05.
With the support of her husband Jon, son Tyler, and a bevy of loved ones in her community, she managed to live a pretty full life in the following year, visiting friends and loved ones in Europe and Mexico, all the while doing what she could do to not give way to the cancerous intruder. For awhile, the lack of growth in her tumor lulled us all into thinking she was beating it.
Before we left for our trip in October, we got word that the tumor had resumed growing; while we were away, Jon's emails brought heavy hearted news that Christine was rapidly declining.
When we returned we were able to spend some time with her, seeing the Christine we loved through the symptoms of the damage that the tumor growth was wreaking on her brain. As the days passed she went from being able to spend some time in a wheel chair, to not leaving her bed. All the while she was cared for at home by Jon and Tyler.
A week later, last Saturday the 18th, we all gathered at Jon and Christine's house. It was unplanned--just a gravitation of loved ones to their place, wanting to witness, support, soak in this hallowed, heart wrenching experience. It was indescribable, these hours--such a combination of love, grief, joy, fellowship that pulsed through rooms among all who were present.
We took turns holding vigil in her bedroom--three of us at a time sitting on the floor or on the bed next to her--holding her when the seizures convulsed her body every ten minutes. Murmuring to her, "Just let go, sweetheart..."
As Taryn noted, it almost felt like being a midwife...every convulsion was like a contraction. We hoped that she would use our strength, our presence to aid her transition. But that blessed woman, that strong, vibrant woman wasn't ready to go quite yet. She seemed so far out of her body, in a persistent slumber, unresponsive to all her gathered around her.
But, the next night, Sunday, when Jon leaned in and whispered to her, "Marry me..."
She replied, "Okay..."
I massaged Jon last Friday--I was so grateful to him for letting me "help". I appreciate Jon so much--both he and Tyler have been so gracious in sharing this deeply personal experience with all of us.
As I worked on him, he mused about the concept of "helping someone die"--what, really, was there to help?
"I think," I mused, thinking about Taryn's analogy of midwifery,"that both birth and death will happen regardless of whether there is help to be had, or not. But isn't it much better to have loved ones nearby to ease the way?"
Christine died last night at 8:51pm.
The email we received from Jon this morning:
just to let you know,
the city was quiet, under a few inches of snow,
tyler and i were with Christine,
so far as we could tell her last breath was as peaceful as anyone's could be.
we filled the room with candle light,
and caught what sleep we could laying next to the bed.
Christine, thank you, I love you, I miss you.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Back home...
Still reeling from jet lag.
The train and plane ride home was largely uneventful. We spent the night before we flew out in Frankfurt. Dinner at an Australian restaurant that night (there's only so much potatoes and sausage one can eat)--passed on the kangaroo burger. Did think about it for a second or two though...
Watching Euro CNN in the hotel that night was like being a kid on Christmas morning--Democrats won??!!! Jubilation now over, let's see if they manage to not be the wishy washy spineless party that I've been frustrated with for so long...
After hours of travel, got in to Seatac and got a ride from friend Gary. Phone call the next morning from American Airlines saying that my money belt had been found (with passport, ID and credit card) on the plane. !!! didn't even know it was lost. Picked it up, no more cash inside :-( Someone was honest enough to turn it in, but just couldn't resist helping themselves to some bene's...
Good to be back home. Great trip. Soooo grateful to our hosts. Hope they come visit us next time...
Still reeling from jet lag.
The train and plane ride home was largely uneventful. We spent the night before we flew out in Frankfurt. Dinner at an Australian restaurant that night (there's only so much potatoes and sausage one can eat)--passed on the kangaroo burger. Did think about it for a second or two though...
Watching Euro CNN in the hotel that night was like being a kid on Christmas morning--Democrats won??!!! Jubilation now over, let's see if they manage to not be the wishy washy spineless party that I've been frustrated with for so long...
After hours of travel, got in to Seatac and got a ride from friend Gary. Phone call the next morning from American Airlines saying that my money belt had been found (with passport, ID and credit card) on the plane. !!! didn't even know it was lost. Picked it up, no more cash inside :-( Someone was honest enough to turn it in, but just couldn't resist helping themselves to some bene's...
Good to be back home. Great trip. Soooo grateful to our hosts. Hope they come visit us next time...
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
A lovely walk with Gabi and the kids through the woods until twilight. On the way back to home we stopped in at the church and listened to the organ player practice in the darkness lit only by candles from the altars.
Very gothic and surreal experience.
Afterwards Jeff and I strolled through the cemetery that surrounds the church, red candles on the graves flickering. Jeff had to leave when we came upon one plot too recently created--a little too morbidly real for him. For me, I'm always fascinated and mystified by death and its accoutrements.
For special dinner we had boiled potatoes sauteed in butter (a special request from me), fine slices of roast beef sprinkled with olive oil, parmesan cheese and chives, Austrian bread, and Stiegel beer, naturlich!
Gabi and I had a girls' evening afterwards, revisting the bar we went to three years ago when I was last here. Rum and hot chocolate and good conversation, storing up memories with eachother to last us another several years.
Back home and more conversation with Christoph, a nice farewell to him last night--but then Jeff and I had to get up at 6am to see him off to work as we weren't ready to say goodbye just yet.
Elisabeth came this morning to deliver Stanger schnaps and goodbye hugs--we all have the sense and the knowledge that we will see eachother again in not too many years.
We are packed and waiting to go to the train station in an hour.
The sun gives us a glorious last few vistas of the surrounding area; I try hard to burn them into my brain.
Known and expected endings make now so much more poignant. Without these goodbyes would we appreciate things as much?
Very gothic and surreal experience.
Afterwards Jeff and I strolled through the cemetery that surrounds the church, red candles on the graves flickering. Jeff had to leave when we came upon one plot too recently created--a little too morbidly real for him. For me, I'm always fascinated and mystified by death and its accoutrements.
For special dinner we had boiled potatoes sauteed in butter (a special request from me), fine slices of roast beef sprinkled with olive oil, parmesan cheese and chives, Austrian bread, and Stiegel beer, naturlich!
Gabi and I had a girls' evening afterwards, revisting the bar we went to three years ago when I was last here. Rum and hot chocolate and good conversation, storing up memories with eachother to last us another several years.
Back home and more conversation with Christoph, a nice farewell to him last night--but then Jeff and I had to get up at 6am to see him off to work as we weren't ready to say goodbye just yet.
Elisabeth came this morning to deliver Stanger schnaps and goodbye hugs--we all have the sense and the knowledge that we will see eachother again in not too many years.
We are packed and waiting to go to the train station in an hour.
The sun gives us a glorious last few vistas of the surrounding area; I try hard to burn them into my brain.
Known and expected endings make now so much more poignant. Without these goodbyes would we appreciate things as much?
Back in Landeck
Saturday we just relaxed, just lollygaggin' and readin'. Christoph had new jokes to try out on us.
The night before we had left for Italy the four of us stayed up late telling joke after joke. Christoph was frustrated that he couldn't translate German jokes he knew into funny English versions. One got us giggling though:
Two chocolates--a caramel and a noisette (nut chocolate) sat on a wall. The noisette sneezed and fell off. The caramel looked down and said, "Are you alright?". The noisette replied, "I think I hurt my nuts."
Most of the time, we would just look at him blankly when the punch line was said to many of his jokes:
God was talking to a rabbi who was dissapointed with his son and his life direction. The Rabbi said to God, "I understand you had son problems too--how did you deal with this?" God:"I made a new testament"
Huh?
will and testament is how you say this?--- oh! funny....!
Most of the laughter was over translation frustration--and from the general joy to be had sitting and being silly with friends.
Sunday we hiked to the little cabin that has been in Gabi's family for decades. It was cold, cold. The hillside, the countryside on this hike, this terrain not 10 minutes from their house, never ceases to overwhelm me with its beauty--and I've done this hike about 6 times in 20 years. Americans have a warm nostalgia for the movie "The Sound of Music", Austrians either don't know this movie, or, if they do, they despise it. Gabi told me when I told her how this walk looked like it came straight from the movie, "I remember when you forced me to watch this AWFUL film!"
As my friend Rachel pointed out in her bloggings on her recent trip to Austria--it's mandatory for every American visitor to this quaint country's hillsides to twirl in the manner of Julie Andrews as Maria Von Trapp, with arms outstretched, head thrown back, and belting "THE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIIIIIVE WITH THE SOUUUUUUND OF MUUUUUUUUSIIIIIIIIIIC!"
Don't be surprised, however, if locals within hearing vicinity cringe and cover their ears.
When we arrived we made a fire outside and roasted sausages over the coals. The farmer who leases the land around the cabin had recently sprayed the hillsides with a manure slurry. The aroma was so pungent it made my nose itch. Something about the smell mix of smoke, sausage, pine trees, meadow and manure---not something I'll be able to easily duplicate in Seattle...
Back down the hills to home, Jeff and I cooked an Italian meal for the family: Pasta with tomato sauce and bacon, Italian red wine, salad. It was a hit!
Then down to Katharina's and Michal's for tea and dessert--they had wanted to visit with Jeff and I. The table we sat around was the same table and kitchen I sat at the first time I visited in '88. I learned Austrian drinking songs at this table! (at the innocent age of 16). K and M are very involved in Celtic fantasy games where they meet up with other people who all dress and act in character, having grand adventures and epic battles. Kati dresses as an elf, Michal, as a Celtic warrior. I think they are as addicted to this as people I knew in college who were addicted to Dungeons and Dragons...
Yesterday (Monday) we lazed and ate again--G and C took us to a restaurant as this would be the last opportunity for us all to have a grand feast together. Later we went to Elisabeth and Roman's where we spent the night there so that we could have one last session with them of good conversation.
Our last full day in Austria is today. Tomorrow we leave on the train at 11:30am for a 6.5 hour ride back to Frankfurt. We spend the night in a hotel there, then on the plane on the 9th for the long journey home.
The time has passed quickly--but also very slowly. It feels like an age ago that we surprised Gabriele at her party.
I am ready to be home, ready to tackle the projects again, ready to be in my own bed, ready for my familiar routine. Traveling is grand, is educational, is necessary--but home is mandatory.
Not quite done with my adventures, more stories to tell, possibly. Then if you like, you can check in periodically and see how the adventures of mundane, everyday existence, full of predictability, yet rich with possibility, unfold...what could be better?
Seriously.
Saturday we just relaxed, just lollygaggin' and readin'. Christoph had new jokes to try out on us.
The night before we had left for Italy the four of us stayed up late telling joke after joke. Christoph was frustrated that he couldn't translate German jokes he knew into funny English versions. One got us giggling though:
Two chocolates--a caramel and a noisette (nut chocolate) sat on a wall. The noisette sneezed and fell off. The caramel looked down and said, "Are you alright?". The noisette replied, "I think I hurt my nuts."
Most of the time, we would just look at him blankly when the punch line was said to many of his jokes:
God was talking to a rabbi who was dissapointed with his son and his life direction. The Rabbi said to God, "I understand you had son problems too--how did you deal with this?" God:"I made a new testament"
Huh?
will and testament is how you say this?--- oh! funny....!
Most of the laughter was over translation frustration--and from the general joy to be had sitting and being silly with friends.
Sunday we hiked to the little cabin that has been in Gabi's family for decades. It was cold, cold. The hillside, the countryside on this hike, this terrain not 10 minutes from their house, never ceases to overwhelm me with its beauty--and I've done this hike about 6 times in 20 years. Americans have a warm nostalgia for the movie "The Sound of Music", Austrians either don't know this movie, or, if they do, they despise it. Gabi told me when I told her how this walk looked like it came straight from the movie, "I remember when you forced me to watch this AWFUL film!"
As my friend Rachel pointed out in her bloggings on her recent trip to Austria--it's mandatory for every American visitor to this quaint country's hillsides to twirl in the manner of Julie Andrews as Maria Von Trapp, with arms outstretched, head thrown back, and belting "THE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIIIIIVE WITH THE SOUUUUUUND OF MUUUUUUUUSIIIIIIIIIIC!"
Don't be surprised, however, if locals within hearing vicinity cringe and cover their ears.
When we arrived we made a fire outside and roasted sausages over the coals. The farmer who leases the land around the cabin had recently sprayed the hillsides with a manure slurry. The aroma was so pungent it made my nose itch. Something about the smell mix of smoke, sausage, pine trees, meadow and manure---not something I'll be able to easily duplicate in Seattle...
Back down the hills to home, Jeff and I cooked an Italian meal for the family: Pasta with tomato sauce and bacon, Italian red wine, salad. It was a hit!
Then down to Katharina's and Michal's for tea and dessert--they had wanted to visit with Jeff and I. The table we sat around was the same table and kitchen I sat at the first time I visited in '88. I learned Austrian drinking songs at this table! (at the innocent age of 16). K and M are very involved in Celtic fantasy games where they meet up with other people who all dress and act in character, having grand adventures and epic battles. Kati dresses as an elf, Michal, as a Celtic warrior. I think they are as addicted to this as people I knew in college who were addicted to Dungeons and Dragons...
Yesterday (Monday) we lazed and ate again--G and C took us to a restaurant as this would be the last opportunity for us all to have a grand feast together. Later we went to Elisabeth and Roman's where we spent the night there so that we could have one last session with them of good conversation.
Our last full day in Austria is today. Tomorrow we leave on the train at 11:30am for a 6.5 hour ride back to Frankfurt. We spend the night in a hotel there, then on the plane on the 9th for the long journey home.
The time has passed quickly--but also very slowly. It feels like an age ago that we surprised Gabriele at her party.
I am ready to be home, ready to tackle the projects again, ready to be in my own bed, ready for my familiar routine. Traveling is grand, is educational, is necessary--but home is mandatory.
Not quite done with my adventures, more stories to tell, possibly. Then if you like, you can check in periodically and see how the adventures of mundane, everyday existence, full of predictability, yet rich with possibility, unfold...what could be better?
Seriously.
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