Here in the Land of Lakes, not quakes

waiting for the fireworks

The barometer of my body says it's in a new and different place. My hair wants to part on the other side, and I'm still lost in this curvy city by the big river. But last night I connected the place where I went out for a glass of wine with the neighborhood I live in and the neighborhood where my St. Paul condo was. Three dots on a map of a zillion dots.

I'm afraid to drive here. Don't get into the bike lane when you turn, and watch out for the orange cones, orange cones, orange cones. There are giant potholes and trenches in the interstates (don't say freeway) from all the construction. And don't say the 94 or the 35W. Here you just take plain 94 or 35 W to wherever. And let's not talk about the W. Anxiety ramps up in the car like it did after the divorce when I marooned myself in my condo in South Pasadena, going to almost nothing. But I can walk or take the train. My new (to me) red Subaru has been christened Freiya, and I will drive her...eventually.

The sky is bigger and bluer here. Sky is distinctly separate from clouds. No grey linty what-is-what sky. Storm clouds barrel in every other night or so, and  lightning unzips the darkness. The 5th floor is a very satisfactory height from which to view the drama.

There is free yoga in the park before the farmer's market. Two seconds lying on the grass and I'm five years old because it smells like childhood. (That's me bottom right.)

The produce in the farmers' market cascades into more variety every week. First it was only asparagus and rhubarb and peonies. Then morels and bok choy. Now squash and lettuce, lettuce, lettuce, green beans, new kinds of spinach, gooseberries and red currants, and so much more.

A huge crowd came to fireworks along the river. Standing room only by the moment of showtime,and then bound in by rows and rows of people. It  sounds terrible, but it wasn't. The next morning it was all cleaned up even though they said 75,000 people came.

My living room still has its wall of boxes of books, and file boxes strewn with things I'm too lazy to file because it means bending down or lifting the box. And the TV is on a card table, but my bedroom is perfect with my favorite art hanging above the bed. And there's my desk where maybe the muse can find me if I ever sit down there.

Sometimes the morning light makes the view look like a painting. I see beauty everywhere, but I miss my friends. I wish they were here in the land of lakes instead of the land of quakes.

Wednesday Morning Beach Report

Ocean's foamy fingers
sift powdered sugar sand while

a pair of lovers
rest under a sky marked with kisses.

Good-Bye Christmas Tree /Hello El Nino

I did not require a crane to remove the Christmas tree from my living room, but the Ventura pier needs some remodeling after December's giant waves. This morning I could hear the roar of the ocean a mile away with my bedroom windows closed, and with the rain in abeyance, I went to see how the pier was doing. Still standing, I'm happy to say, despite today's stormy seas. The winds blew in fierce and cold this afternoon. More El Nino storms on the way, they say. I feel safe here in my house out of the path of flowing mud, surrounded by farm fields instead of dry hillsides, the marina ready to catch whatever rain is delivered without any towering waves. Southern California is indeed the temperate place many people imagine it to be, but it's also a place of extremes.

And extremely beautiful. The sun went down today without much flashy red, but the clouds were edged in gold, and in the opposite direction, they were cotton candy blue.

I hope you are warm and dry. I hope your 2016 has had a nice dollop of sweetness so far. And if the wind is blowing in your direction, I hope it smells of evergreens or like the lavender in Grant Park today, releasing its wind-whipped  perfume.

Exclamation Point in the Sky and other things worth exclaiming about!

New Year's Day sunset. Hello 2016!

Once upon a time I greeted the New Year stoked with resolutions. 

Then there was the era of the ironic resolution. (Drink more! Stay up later! Party harder!) I was a mom with young children and those resolutions always fell flat.

I took things seriously again for a while and one year I even signed up for one of those online services that nag you by email about meeting your goals. 

I resolved to never do that again.

Then I think there was a year where I resolved not to have any resolutions at all. 

This year I was into it. Then decided I wasn't. 

This morning I read THIS. I'm sure it's a gross oversimplification to resolve to have great compassion. Maybe one can resolve to study great compassion. Or to look at the world and notice where great compassion exists. Yes, I'll resolve to do that (!)

I also read THIS.  Here's a quote: "We do not see that our life right here, right now, is nirvana. Maybe we think that nirvana is a place where there are no problems, no more delusions. Maybe we think nirvana is something very beautiful, something unattainable. We always think nirvana is something very different from our own life. But we must really understand that it is right here, right now." Yes, I'll resolve to do that (!)

I'm also resolving to go back to being gluten free because right now by body is the shape of a bowling pin!!!

Did you see the exclamation point in the sky last night, dear readers?

Do you have any resolutions you want to share?

Friday Morning Beach Report

 In one direction, the sky streaks of gray and blue, clouds like strands of raw wool unraveling above Anacapa.

In another direction, the clouds ripped apart, baring blue sky.

The waves looked as sturdy as semi-trucks this morning as two men stood on the sand, looking out to sea. They talked briefly, then turned and ran. Surfers, I'll bet. I couldn't stay long enough to confirm that they returned with their boards, but I'm grateful for the reminder to seize the moment.

Monday Morning Beach Report

Yesterday's gray washed away, now

the clouds are like benevolent giants,

and curlews rule the sand.

Saturday Morning Beach Report/Friday Night Flashback

                      Rip currents, big waves, and surfers.

Clouds above and clouds below.

Days of Wonder and Amazement

The weather has been shifting here. When the man who loves me and I walked on the beach yesterday afternoon there was a rainbow ring around the sun. Kind of like this.

It poured as we slept last night. Then sunny this morning when we woke. A cold wind kicked up while I was at the farmer's market and I rushed away with my fresh fish as well as some Taiwanese spinach ("Much more flavor!" says the farmer) and this wonderful and amazing stuff.

It's peanut butter. I cooked the halibut with the barbeque peanut butter tonight. My mom wasn't crazy about it....but I LOVED it! I'm imagining some kind of banana dessert. And stir-frying the spinach with the curry peanut butter.

And speaking of wonderfulness, Downtown Abbey season 3 kicks off tonight. Did you catch the interview with some of the cast members on Morning Edition?

Days of wonder and amazement here in Margaritaville.

photo credit for the photo of the sun: news.nationalgeographic.com