Earthquake!

I just felt one, a gentle shaking. A rush of adrenaline and I was out the door. But it was over quickly, just my neighbors chattering, "Did you feel that?" as the only aftershock. So far, anyway.

The original title of this post was "So Far Behind." To pick up from when I was so rudely interrupted by the earth goddess:

I've gotten so much sympathy from my last blog entry, I might as well continue the theme: I've never been so far behind in my life. Never. At work or at home. I'm trying to remember back to the final days of my last NYU job, the one where I wandered through life looking as though I'd been socked in kisser the bags under my eyes were so dark. I was so stressed I could barely sleep, though I suspect my boss suspected I was a reefer addict. I can sleep now, for the most part. But I feel completely out of control of the rest of my life. I will write you back and thank you for your kindness and wish you a happy birthday, I promise. Soon. Really.

OK, enough of that boo-hooty. Life recap:

Doubletree, Portland, July 2006
Originally uploaded by suzipaw.

Conference: successful.

Exhausting. Did manage to muster the energy to have dinner with my cousin and his wife one night. Definitely the introvert's dream to get to know people at the rate of two hours per year. Returned home Friday night, not a moment too soon. Laundry and recovery on Saturday. Sunday I hustled over to the county fair briefly to witness the glory that is the Budweiser Clydesdales. Man those beasts of burden are beautiful.

Going to the fair reminds me of the Sonoma County of my youth. Farmers in their shit-kicking best, wearing cowboy hats, suspenders *and* belts, snap-fastened Western shirts. The young girls aren't ashamed to don their slant heeled boots and enormous ornate glinting belt buckles. When I encountered these kinds of girls in high school, I felt so superior, as if they were some ancient, obsolete race. Now I still feel alien, but I see them more as an endangered species that I want to nurture. And I want to nurture the domestic animals too--the lovely dove gray cows and fluffy angora rabbits and sheep wearing their odd KKK-like suits to, I assume, keep their coats from becoming soiled--the ones we celebrate two weeks out of the year, then slaughter. But it's out of our income range, by far, to buy enough land here to even keep chickens, much less a cow. Maybe I shouldn't be so pessimistic. I just wanted every animal to be as well cared for as those brushed, bored, Budweiser horses.

Then, still Sunday, off to an afternoon gathering at a friend's place. I promise, I will entertain more, I will, I promise.

Monday night was writers group, thank goodness for that sanity in my life. I actually squeezed out a poem. At work. But I had been thinking about it for some time, so it just sort of flowed out. And last night M and I watched Paths of Glory, directed by Stanley Kubrick. War is a sad state of affairs, to say the least. I should have been blogging, I know, or something more productive than staring at the TV, but there you have it.

*****

Seasons: They are a-changin'. On my lunchtime walk with my work friend on Tuesday, I saw my first naked ladies getting ready to bloom. I almost crashed into the car in front of me on the way home tonight (OK, I'm exaggerating--a lot--but I was mesmerized) by my first wedge of geese honking south this evening flying low over the highway. The wild grasses are a particular shade of blackened gold and blackberries are ready for picking. As if I have time…

*****

One thing I forgot to mention about my visit with my aunt and uncle. We watched a video that my uncle had shot in 1992, touring the hometown where he and my dad and grandparents grew up, and the farms where they lived. I enjoyed the scenery, but it was most poignant and made me a little sad to see my grandpa again, moving and speaking. It was a bit hard, seeing him trudging through the cemetery, crossing the very ground where he'd be buried a few years later. But I'm glad my uncle thought to do this.