Your Smart Phone is Listening. Really.

I'd heard it said once or twice that our smart phones can listen to us, and I've read what I believed to be a couple of fringe-y headlines claiming the same.  Nah, I thought.

This morning the granite repair guys came to my house to measure the cracked and crumbling granite around my kitchen sink. My faucet is shot too, and I have a new one waiting in the wings. "Look, Pierre," I said, "I bought the faucet you suggested." There was some discussion then about whether or not I'd bought the right faucet and if it could be installed without the escutcheon--or if I'd need a different escutcheon if the size of the new faucet was different from the old faucet. Escutcheon, I said. Escutcheon, Pierre said. We said it twice, maybe three or four times. Escutcheon.

I went for a walk after that. Took a yoga class. Showered. Ate lunch. Did a bunch of chores around the house and yard. I finally sat down to work on the last few pages of the first draft of my book around 1:45. I googled something about women and shame, birthmothers and shame, the effects of shame, and clicked on the link to the article shown above.

Check out the ad. Those are escutcheons in case you don't know what an escutcheon is.

I google a lot of things. Weird things that might give someone pause. I'm a writer.  And in my ordinary life I google things like best non-toxic cookware and most opaque yoga pants. I google how to tell one type of gull from another and if cassava root is really gluten free. Ten days ago I googled kitchen faucets, and yes for a day or so faucets showed up in the ads on my Facebook page and wherever. I get that. I don't even mind it since I hate to shop and kinda like it if something I'm looking for magically appears. But I didn't google anything at all today until I googled the stuff about about shame.

So shame on me for not knowing that all this while my phone has been listening. And your creepy phone is probably listening to you. I've turned off my microphone in Safari. Maybe I can put a pillow over its face too.

Tuesday Morning Beach Report

Immense waves roaring in one behind the other, no space between them.

And tiny sea salps, spaced out on the sand like bread crumbs marking a path to who knows where.

And this, posted by a friend on FB: Art from Guantanamo detainees who were imprisoned next to the sea, but not allowed to see the water.

There was a party here.

I invited my yoga friends over for a birthday brunch.
They brought presents. That along with the birthday wishes that deluged my Facebook page and my email made for a fun couple of days.
I'm on Medicare. And I'm still having fun.
I'm lucky. Blessed. Fortunate. Letting the good times roll.
Thank you, everyone.

Eyes of Fire

It's that time of year when the windows in the condo building across the way reflect the rising sun. At first glance the place looks like it's engulfed in flames, the windows like giant eyes of fire.

In Oaxaca it's two hours later, and the sun stays up til six in the evening there. The skies are nearly cloudless all through the daylight hours, and the chill in the morning air is crisp, not damp. I love being home, but my body feels soggy and tired.

I dreamed of my mother last night. She was younger--maybe the age I am now or even in her 50s. We were all gathering somewhere for a family get-together. At my brother's house, maybe, or my son's. There were plans to sightsee and go to a concert. Picking up the tickets was confusing and my car had somehow downloaded the software to be a self-driving car. It was disconcerting, sitting in the back seat while the car inched its way through city traffic without a driver. I climbed into the front seat anyway--no easy feat to make it from the back seat of a Prius into the driver's seat, but I did it, twisting my body this way and that, and then realized it really wasn't necessary.

Wherever it was that we were, the house was full of us, arriving and deciding who would sleep where, and then changing our minds. My mom decided to drive herself back to her apartment a day early. She grabbed my older daughter in a hug and told her she lived too far away. I don't know when I'll see you again, she said.

I woke too early this morning, waiting for the first sliver of daylight before I flung off the covers. I walked toward the building that was glowing, and on the grass found a playing card. Two of clubs. What is the significance of the two of clubs? I googled. It's the card of conversation. The two of clubs person is gregarious and entertaining. It's the card of communication.

Home

No matter where I've been, I'm always thrilled to come back to California.
The airport shuttle drove up the Coast Highway. Over two hours in traffic is almost tolerable when you get to look out over the ocean at sunset.

It felt like I hadn't walked on the beach in ages.
The beauty of it is always new.

Art in Oaxaca, Mexico

I'm not a visual artist. I'm a writer. But at a friend's suggestion, I joined her for this: http://www.artworkshopsinoaxaca.com

With the focus on Day of the Dead, I decided my project would be an altar box dedicated to my mother. The instructors were fantastic, and the box, I think, honors my mother's life, her beauty, and her spirit. I also included her twin sister. That 's my aunt on the left and my mom on the right. These are the doors on the outside of the box

Below is the complete view of the inside of the box.

Here's a close up of the inside side panels which reflect her life in California and her last birthday party.

This last picture is a close-up of the center inside panel.

Visiting the cemeteries

Day of the Dead in Oaxaca is a celebration as deep and wide as a field of marigolds. While All Souls Day is November 1st, the towns stagger their celebrations so people can visit more than one cemetery. I came to El Dia de Los Muertos in Oaxaca for the first time last year. My mother had been dead for only seven months, my boyfriend Dan for a little more than two years. I brought their photos to place on the altar of the place I stayed and prayed for a glimpse of them or some sense of their presence. My mother was elusive, but I saw Dan in the base player of the ensemble who played at the graveside party for the husband of my hostess. Once or twice in the crowded streets, he seemed to be ahead of me before turning a corner and vanishing into another throng of people.

This year the artists hosting the workshop took us to three cemeteries. The care in cleaning and decorating the tombs, the density of the flowers, the whole place awash in candlelight after the sun sets, the mix of solemnity and celebration as evidenced by the loud music, the children playing among the graves is like nothing I've ever experienced in a cemetery in the U.S.. I think I saw a sign at the cemetery where my parents are buried prohibiting live flowers. Or did I dream that? After a week here, it seems like that can't be real. Here in Oaxaca, you can sit next to your loved one in the candlelight, breathing in the scent of marigolds while waiting for the cotton candy vendor to come by.

The four photos below are from Xoxochotlan.

We also visited the large urban cemetery in Oaxaca City.

On the way into the cemetery, there's plenty of food and games.

 

 

San Felipe Cemetery might have been the most beautiful. The photos below were taken there.

 

Archways of marigolds mark the doorways of houses, businesses, offrendas, and tombs so the dead can find their way back to visit the living.

Overheard in the streets of Oaxaca

Two acquaintances or old friends  run into one another on the street and exchange greetings. I can't talk long, she says, I've got get to my class.
Oh, you're studying Spanish again, he says.
Yeah, but my Spanish still sucks, she says.
Mine too, he says, but I don't go hungry.

squash soup

street food/fresh made tortillas with Oaxacan cheese and pumpkin flowers

sopa azteca

shrimp with mole negro and tamarind

I didn't really come here to eat. I came for Day of the Dead and to create a piece of art as an homage to my mother. Somehow I did manage to do those things in between eating these beautiful meals.

Parades and Preparations: Oaxaca, Day of the Dead

The Parades have been going on for days already. They're family friendly.

Many people get their faces painted, and businesses like this bakery have a side hustle doing the painting.

These giant spheres appear in the parades and parties. The design varies and the meaning or significance of them remains a mystery.