We Interrupt Our Regular Scheduled Programming....

...to send a happy birthday wish out to my mother.

Growing up, my mother was the smartest person I knew.  I believed there was no bottom to the well of her knowledge.  At 46, I still haven't found it.  She went back to college shortly after I was born and her educational career shaped my childhood and was an inspiration to my own academic pursuits.  To my mother I owe my love of writing and books.  No small debt. My mother is and always has been her own woman.  She does not stand by convention.  She is a bit of a nomad and a minimalist; two traits I greatly admire.

Mom is making her seventies look like a piece of cake.  I hope to follow in her footsteps.

Have a great day mom and I'll see you in September.

Playing With My Birthday Presents

Pupzilla playing in the backyard

Macro lens for my iPhone

Reading this.

46

One of the loveliest birthdays yet.

 Pumpkin and BB came for a visit.

 I baked cupcakes (and made ice cream).

 Pumpkin and BB's gift...the beginning of a garden.

 Tomatoes, herbs and strawberries.

 Birthday gift from b.

Results of a mother-daughter pedicure (another gift from Pumpkin)

Went to the used bookstore and came home with 7 books to add to my growing pile.

The only downside was missing Angel but he leaves for Greece tomorrow.

Stoner

Pumpkin gave me several books for my birthday.  Many of them are off my Amazon Wish List, which I had told her I keep public just for such purposes. She knows I love getting books as presents and did a great job picking them out from my extensive list. But she also strayed off the list, which, unbeknownst to her, is something I enjoy even more.

Pumpkin's favorite book is Gone With The Wind.  She was talking to a co-worker about favorite books and her feelings for GWTW and he mentioned that Stoner was his favorite.  He said it was an amazingly intense and emotional book and the only one he has ever had to put aside while reading because of the intensity.  She was intrigued and looked it up.  What she read about it reminded her of me and she included it in my gift.

Have I mentioned how amazing Pumpkin is?

I can't believe I've gone through 45 years of reading (or being read to) without ever having found John Williams or this novel before.  It is a quiet but brilliantly intense read.  It was published in my birth year and the story takes place at the beginning of the century but it still holds true today.  It is set in academia but it is a book about life and love and work.  It is a must read.

I told my mother about the book before I started reading it.  My entire life I have been convinced that my mother has read every book worth reading but she had never heard of the novel or the author.  Having now read it, she agrees with my assessment and offered a likeness to Marilynne Robinson's work.  I hadn't made a connection but it is definitely there.

If this post hasn't piqued your curiosity enough to go out and find a copy in your local library (or bookstore) yet, here are some quotes.

On privilege and gender:

So she grew up with a frail talent in the more genteel arts, and no knowledge of the necessity of living from day to day.  Her needlepoint was delicate and useless, she painted misty landscapes of thin water-color washes, and she played the piano with a forceless but precise hand; yet she was ignorant of her own bodily functions, she had never been alone to care for her own self one day of her life, nor could it ever have occurred to her that she might become responsible for the well-being of another.  Her life was invariable, like a low hum; and it was watched over by her mother, who, when Edith was a child, would sit for hours watching her paint her pictures or play her piano, as if no other occupation were possible for either of them.

 On gender and marriage:

She had gone into her marriage to Horace Bostwick with that dissatisfaction so habitual within her that it was a part of her person; and as the years went on, the dissatisfaction and bitterness increased, so general and pervasive that no specific remedy might assuage them.  Her voice was thin and high, and it held a note of hopelessness that gave a special value to every word she said.

On teaching and passion:

Now and then he became so caught by his enthusiasm that he stuttered, gesticulated, and ignored the lecture notes that usually guided his talks.  At first he was disturbed by his outbursts, as if he presumed too familiarly upon his subject, and he apologized to his students; but when they began coming up to him after class, and when in their papers they began to show hints of imagination and the revelation of a tentative love, he was encouraged to do what he had never been taught to do.  The love of literature, of language, of the mystery of the mind and heart showing themselves in the minute, strange, and unexpected combinations of letters and words, in the blackest and coldest print--the love which he had hidden as if it were illicit and dangerous, he began to display, tentatively at first, and then boldly, and then proudly.  

Birthday/Mothers Day Weekend

Friday morning, b and I got up on the early side (for us) and had a quick breakfast in our favorite local diner.  Then we drove south for an hour and a bit to a national forest where we heard there was lots of good hiking.  One of my favorite birthday activities is to spend the day hiking in the woods with my husband.

We found the trailhead and started off.  We were aiming to hike a loop and had the entire day ahead of us.  Unfortunately we had to keep Pupzilla at home.  She has reached an age where a day long hike is not possible and, as it was a hot and sticky day, I don't think she would have lasted an hour.

We were warned that the area was confusing and could be difficult to navigate.  We had a book of trails but no map.  Signs like the one above would have been helpful except the name did not actually match the trail.

I like to hike by water, like a river, lake or creek.  The book mentioned several water crossings but the actual water was pretty minimal.

We saw mileage signs at the very beginning and very end of the hike.  For the rest of the day, signs were few and far between.

At one point we turned onto a gravel path.  It was pretty but not very challenging.

b checked his GPS at each critical juncture.

Several hours into the hike we reached a critical juncture of three trails.  It coincided with what we were expecting from the little map we had in our book.  Unfortunately these three trails connected twice and we thought we were at a very different juncture than we actually were.  b says we committed a classic error of "bending the map."

We kept expecting to find this trail but since we weren't where we thought we were the junctures never appeared.  We finally figured it out and adjusted ourselves in the right direction.  We ended up on this trail but had no definitive proof until we were back at the trailhead.

Almost 5 hours and 8 1/2 mile later I was back at the car and out of my boots.   It was a great hike.

We drove home, showered up and headed out to one of my favorite restaurants.  The food was quite yummy.  We finished the evening at one of our favorite bars, where I indulged in some chocolate mousse.

The next morning, Pumpkin came over and we ran some errands together.  One of the errands was to pick up my new bicycle.

Later in the afternoon, Angel drove up and we all hung out in the backyard while b grilled us up a lovely dinner.

Earlier in the day I had baked my favorite cake (chocolate with peanut butter frosting) and I had been making ice cream all week.  I ended up with three pints: coffee (decaf), cinnamon, and chocolate.   We headed inside as the sun went down and tried them all.

Angel had to drive home so he could work in the morning but Pumpkin spent the night.  We stayed up and watched one of my favorite movies: Orlando.  Pumpkin didn't like it all that much and napped through most of it.  Sunday morning she left to attend her friends' graduation and b and I spent a very laid back day together.

All-in-all it was a very lovely weekend but I am looking forward to getting back to my usual routine.  

A New Perspective

I am 45 years old today. For some reason I can't think of the number 45 without thinking of angles. It must have been all the geometry I took in high school. So it feels like I have a new angle on life.

At 45 I'm halfway through my forties. This is both good and bad. Its good because I'm really enjoying my 40's; it's bad only if my 50's suck. My tai chi teacher told us that his goal is "a healthy hundred." That is he is trying to live to 100 years but all of them healthy. I like this concept. I've always wanted to be an old lady but not a frail, sick, or senile one. I also like it because it means mid-life is still 5 years away.

I believe that how you feel about a given birthday has more to do with where you are in life relative to where you want to be than it has to do with a specific number. I am really quite lucky to be in such a good place this year. I can say sincerely that I really like my life and I've accomplished many of the things that I wanted to accomplish as an adult. If anything I'm having a hard time coming up with new goals to inspire me. Here's what I have so far:

• Become a full professor
• Get an R01 grant
• Buy a house I love and can afford
• Become a grandmother
• Write a book
• Live just outside of Portland

That's really about it. Not a long list and not an undoable one. Even more amazing is that if anything (or everything) on that list DIDN'T happen, I'd be ok (the not being a grandmother would hit the hardest, but ultimately I'd be ok).

Since arriving in my 40's I've also picked up (or picked back up) a number of activities that I enjoy immensely. I don't want to stop any of these activities but I also don't have a great need to accomplish anything within them. I just want them to continue in my life. My beloved activities are:

• Writing openly and creatively (including blogging)
• Tai chi (and other martial arts)
• Yoga
• Photography/learning a visual medium
• Mentoring students
• Volunteering as a doula

So 45 finds me in a career I love; surrounded by people I adore and who make me feel loved; and doing the things that make me happy on a daily basis.

b and I have several festivities planned to celebrate my birth and life on this planet. I'm sure I'll be sharing the highlights with you all in a few days.

Twenty Years Later

Today is Angel's birthday. b and I are driving down to his school to take him out to dinner. I know at his age it is next year--the coveted 21--that matters, but for me there is something poignant about reaching the two decade mark.

Here's a poem I wrote a very long time ago, when I was already feeling he was getting so grown and wanted to capture some of the moments of his earliest years.

Photos

I remember your first practical joke.

You told me to get up and then

you took my seat

and laughed.

I remember you fell out of your chair

because

I didn't strap you in.

You only fell a few inches

but

you hit your head and

the floor was wood and

you cried and

I felt so bad

because

I knew it was a bad idea.

But I did it anyway.

I remember the time

I told you to bring me the toy and you

went to the other room

and got it.

I remember the first time I took you on

the subway and you fell asleep and

the train felt

too loud and

too dirty and

too dangerous and

you were so small

and I was afraid.

I remember bringing you into bed and

you would curl up with your head

under my chin and

the rest of you

between my arms,

your feet tucked tight into my chest.

I'd smell your little bald head and

drift into sleep.

But I'd wake up with

the bed and

my shirt and

you

soaked through

with pee and

milk and

everything

needed to be changed.

And then I'd do it again.

I remember walking into the living room

and seeing you sitting on the couch

by yourself

like it was your house and

your couch

and it was.

A Birthday Post

I met b 3 months after I officially left my Ex. I wasn't looking for a real relationship but there was something about b that made me pursue one. I asked b out on our first 2 dates. The first date was for drinks on a Friday night. We didn't have much time. I had to pick Angel up from his dad and the next day I was leaving for a business trip to Seattle. The next afternoon I left early for the airport and got to my gate before my flight was posted. Normally I spend all my waiting time working but that day I sat around leisurely thinking about the previous night's date. In my daydreaming I lost track of time. At some point I realized I should be boarding but there was no one at my gate. I had completely missed all the gate change announcements and although I ran to the new gate (in another terminal) it was too late. They put me on another flight that left at 6am Sunday morning. I wasn't needed in Seattle until Monday morning, so this was not a huge problem. I quickly realized that I had a free Saturday night (Angel was spending the weekend with his Dad because of my travels) so I called b from the airport and asked him if he'd like to take me out to dinner.

That was the best date of my life.

Our early dating life was a bit rocky. I did just about everything you shouldn't do: I left my toothbrush the first time I stayed over; I was way too extravagant in my gift giving on his first birthday; I said "I love you" when I knew he couldn't reciprocate. I could blame it all on my general lack of dating experience (I had been with my Ex since I was sixteen) but I did know better. There was just something about b that felt right and now over 10 years later it is still right.

Today is b's birthday and he is in Seattle. I thought I would post a poem that I wrote about b, early in our relationship but after the bumpy dating years.

Breathing

You and I

do not make

for great love

poems.

With us

there is no pining;

no heartfelt stares;

no deep sighs;

no dreams left

unrealized.

Life without you

still has air;

it has birds

and flowers

and beauty

everywhere.

I just don’t

care.

With you

there are no

syrupy songs;

just sweet air

and the rhythm

of you and me--

breathing in,

breathing out.

Life

as it should

be.

Happy Birthday b...I'll see you in Seattle.

My New Love

This is my birthday present from b. I've been putting off getting one for many years. It seemed like a big item (both financially and size-wise) for me to own and I always made due without it. For some reason this seemed like a good year to ask for it. I thought I'd be happy with it but not thrilled.

I am thrilled.

Note the color. I like yellow in my kitchen and it matches the baking bowl I found earlier this year on my escapades Up North.

I made myself a birthday cake with it...a cake I've made a number of times before (deep chocolate layer cake with peanut butter frosting). It was not only extremely delicious but so so much easier.

I love to knead when I make bread so I didn't think I'd use the dough hook that much. Tonight was pizza night (well calzone night actually) here at the House of Dirt and Rocks. I gave it a whirl.

I'm in love.

Double Digits

11

When I was 11 my family got back together after a six-month separation. My sister Amy and I had been sent to my Aunt's house, my sisters Meg and Jo to my paternal grandmother and my mother had moved back in with her parents. Everyone moved back in together except for Jo and my dog. We also gained a quasi step-father--my mother's then boyfriend. That year I joined the girl scouts; I started middle school; I adopted pet rats; and I got my period. I was more developed then most of my schoolmates and received a lot of unwanted attention because of it. It was a year of transition and change.

22

When I was 22 I was living with my boyfriend. I graduated college that year. I was already working in a full-time office job with benefits and responsibilities but I wanted a change. That was the year I started working at the hospital-Ivy League medical school. I ended up staying there 17 years. That was the year I decided to marry my boyfriend, mostly because I wanted a baby. I ended up marrying him shortly after turning 23. That was a year of growth and commitment.

33

When I was 33 I realized I could no longer avoid ending my 10 year marriage. I was ABD and working as a project manager in a research institute, where I had been for the last 10 years. I was miserable. It took half of the year to actually make the break and move myself and Angel out of the apartment we shared with my ex-husband. I remember sitting in the living room of my new apartment all alone and reveling in the space and freedom. Three months later I met b and we had our first date. It was a year of new beginnings.

44

Yesterday I turned 44. I'm wondering what the year will bring.