Mansfield Grower’s Market

G eyes the goods

I went to the Grower’s Market today. It’s becoming the Friday ritual.  I spend A LOT of money, but in return I get to shmooze with a lot of people I really love.  It’s become one of the highlights of my week, actually.

The pic above is G, looking for goodies, and below is a shot I rigged up of Tim pretending to buy soup from Rowena.  (Tim is the leader of my Trybe, and Rowena is a fellow half-marathoner).

Tim buys soup from Rowena

This is Cheryl.  She is the best “Om” chanter in my studio. She’s got a great voice and she plays the harp and gives harp lessons and subs in the public schools.  She’s pretty damned amazing.  She played and sang at the market today.

Cheryl on the harp

There was a lamb for the kids to pet.  He wasn’t that thrilled about being there, though.  His name was George.  He came with a boy.  The boy was NOT named George, thank god, or else I’d have to call him “Boy George” and that would be too weird.

Boy with George (the lamb)

And then there were these unusual chickens.  That white one escaped at one point and G caught it before it ran into the traffic.  It’s cute, but it’s pretty dumb, as all chickens are to some degree or other, but it’s fur is remarkable.  It’s not “fur” though, is it?  It’s feathers.  But it looks like fur…

Funky chickens

The Lucero’s were there with their Bernese Mt dog named Spencer.  Spencer is HUGE.  He’s got a great smile, though, as do all of the Luceros.  That’s Cheryl of harp fame, and her husband Andy on the left.  All the rest are Luceros.

Spencer, the Bernese Mt. dog, and his fans

The Importance of Sleep

Once again, I write about sleep.  That’s because I don’t get enough,  so my whole day becomes an exercise in energy management.  It’s like when your gas tank is *this close* to empty and you are far from a gas station so you try to coast down hills, and drive waaaay under the speed limit to conserve.  Every mile you make it becomes a small victory.  Every mile is one you don’t have to walk carrying your gas can.

I have a lot of “required miles” in my day.  I have my personal “disciplines,” as well as commitments I have made to other people  to be certain places at certain times and have my “A” game on.

So when I am coasting, and driving waaay under the speed limit, I am not living the way I want to be living, or serving to my best ability.

This morning for example, I got up and taught the AM yoga class, came home drank my juice, did my meditation then sat down for my morning write and totally bonked.

I literally could not see: the fog in my brain was so dense, so thick, it took everything I had to just find my pen and uncap it.

It felt like a breakdown on the side of the road.  So I took my gas can and walked over to my bed, put on my Holosync headphones, and took a deep refreshing “holo-snooze for an hour.

Afterwards, I was back on the road again, tank full.  I picked up the pen and wrote like an Indy  racer for 2 hours.  Vrooommm!!  And it felt great.

Now I know that when my night sleep hours number less than 6, I need to build a nap into my day.

It’s dangerous to hitch on the side of the road these days.

The Numbers of My Life

I am not a number fan.  I am a letter girl.  And don’t get me started on the mixing of numbers and letters like in algebra.  That’s just wrong.  2x + y = 12?  No.  The numbers need to stay where they belong (on the number line) and the letters need to stay in the alphabet and there should be no fraternizing between them.

The only time I remember having a semi-good time with numbers was at a writing session at Zee’s when the prompt was to enumerate things.  I am going to share some of my “enumerations” here in the hopes that you will think it’s fun and do one of your own.  If you do, I’d love if you’d share it.

Glasses of water I drink in a year: 121

Glasses of wine I drink in a year: 1,095

Number of trips to the ER: 1

Number of boyfriends: 8

Times I’ve been fired: 1

Times I’ve quit:  1

Jobs I’ve held: 6

Bishop’s rings I’ve kissed:  2

Times I skipped school: 82

Varieties of illegal drugs I’ve taken: 6

Varieties of illegal drugs I’ve enjoyed: 5

Speeding Tickets I’ve received: 2

Cigarettes I’ve smoked: 0

Acid trips I’ve taken: 6

Acid trips I’ve enjoyed: 6

Catholic Masses I’ve attended: 840

Foreign countries I’ve visited: 2

Foreign languages I speak: 0

Number of cars I’ve owned: 7

Number of animals I’ve owned: 23

Average attention span: 30 minutes

Number of years I’ve spent in classrooms: 20

Number of classrooms I’ve fallen asleep in: 60

Number of students I’ve expelled: 1

Number of times I’ve been expelled: 1

Gallons of ice cream I’ve eaten: 112

Number of times I’ve chanted OM: 178

Number of times I’ve said the rosary: 635

Number of schools I’ve attended: 8

Number of schools I’ve taught in: 4

Number of fillings in my mouth: 14

Number of minutes I’m ususally late: 6

Number of minutes I’m usually early: 3

Number of days a year I sing: 360

Number of 1950s commercial jingles I still know by heart: 4

Number of Irish songs I know by heart: 1

Number of emails in my Inbox: 774

Number of people I follow on Twitter: 210

Number of people who follow me on Twitter: 288

Number of tequila shots in one sitting: 6

Number of tequila shots in the last 10 years: 0


Now you!  Go!

Fun Ruts

The other day I posted on Facebook that I was compiling my summer reading list and asked all my FB friends for one “must read” recommendation.

I asked because I’ve been in a book rut.  I read the same kinds of books all the time: new age, spiritual classics, non-fiction, with the occasional novel thrown in for good measure.

So now, thanks to FB,  I have a whole list of intriguing book recs that I am currently contemplating and I’m definitely going to be reading some great new stuff this summer.

Every year before Memorial Day G and I make a “Fun List” for the summer.  I’m sitting here now, looking at this list and it kind of looks like last year’s: a bike trip, a ball game, a trip to the beach, flying a kite, an impromptu party, a new kayak area, a star-gazing trip to Cherry Springs and lots of other super-fun things.

But as ridiculous as it sounds–no, not ridiculous, as oxymoronic as it sounds, I think I may be in a “fun rut.”

I want to break out, go on an escapade, have a lark, do something so totally unlike what I would ever consider doing, that it would skyrocket me into a whole new stratosphere of fun.

So here’s what I want from you: Suggest something.  What are you going to do for fun this summer?  What do you think I ought to try?  If I take your suggestion I’ll take pics or video of me doing it and post them here.

Deal?  Okay, GO!

No More Yoga Talk Here

It’s been almost a month since the end of the April Yoga Challenge and some of the people who got so used to talking about their practice in the Comment boxes on this blog are now jonesin’ for that old connected feelin’ again.


Today I built a new blog here on WordPress.  It’s called Virtual Yogarians and it’s for anybody who wants to write about yoga and have other people to talk to about yoga. Go check it out!

This won’t be MY blog, though I will post on it regularly.  I will administer it, but you, (yes you!), can post about your practice there.  Here’s what you do:

1. Send me your name and email and I’ll add you as an author.

2. WordPress will send you an email asking you to register.  You will create a user name, and a password.  WordPress will ask you if you want to create a blog or a just a username. You just want a username.

3. Then you will just login to Virtual Yogarians, go to your Dashboard, pick “Add New Post” and then write whatever your heart desires, post pics if you want, add links, go for it!  It’s your blog!

Cool, eh?  Yeah.

I’m excited about this.  So, no more yoga talk here.  All yoga yapping will be at Virtual Yogarians.


In the last month I have aquired:

  • a new digital camera
  • a new cell phone
  • a new Ipod

and it seems like these pieces of electronica are taking over my entire life.

I love this these toys, I really do, but damn! They all need to be learned, and the learning of them is eating into the productive hours of my day, so much so that I’m starting to question their supposed increased productivity value.

(Oh, and let’s not forget that I’ve only had my MacBook Pro for 6 months and am still in the process of learning it. )

My reading matter lately has skewed heavily towards User’s Guides.  Which is ironic because I am currently writing a User’s Manual, –a personal User’s Manual, so maybe these pieces of electronica are coming into my life at this point to teach me how to negotiate manuals, and learn from them?  I dunno.  All I know is that they’re getting on my nerves, and I needed to escape them.

So this morning I sat meditation, did my wimpish “Jog of Joy,” which is a 12 minute romp around the campus, and ended the day at the Grower’s Market.

Here’s my haul:

Grower's Market haul May 21

From left to right: Strawberry Cream Pie, Grower’s Mkt tee, ramps, asparagus, and above, White Chocolate Macadamia nut cookies, mustard greens (mix), and watercress.  The day was sunny and warm and the turnout was great.

And tomorrow is another day.

Emily’s Birthday

I’ve been sitting here trying to find a good picture of Emily, my daughter, but it turns out I don’t have a good picture of her on this computer.  But in my mind?  In my mind, I have a whole museum of pictures.  Gallery after gallery of framed tableaus:  Pictures of her in her bassinette, at every birthday, and every Christmas, and every 1st day of school.

I also have the non-traditional mind-pictures of long laughy, cry-y conversations, usually on on my bed–usually at night, usually with Ira yelling up from downstairs, “Aren’t you in bed YET??”  And me yelling back, “Pretty soon!”

Once you’re a mother, you’re always a mother, but once your child is an adult the mothering morphs into something different from what it was in the days of diapers and dates and driving lessons.  There are still the long, laughy-cry-y conversations, but they’re over the phone now (and there aren’t so many, if any, cry-y ones anymore.)

Here’s what I believe about being born:

Before you’re born it is decided that you have a mission, and in order to fulfill that mission you are born to certain parents, who are part of your plan (even if you don’t understand why, and would never in a million years pick those parents yourself.)

Everything that happens to you is part of the plan.  The mission inside you is like a computer chip (and it even has speech capabilities if you know how to access them.)

When you are doing things that are in alignment with your mission, you are happy.  When you out of alignment, you suffer.

Your most important job is to discover your mission and fulfill it.

Today is Emily’s birthday.  26 years ago, for whatever reason, her daimon picked me to help carry out her mission.  She was such a fun kid to raise!  And she is still fun, and deep, and sweet.

It was also part of my mission to mother her, I know that.  In mothering her, I healed myself.  In loving her, I learned to love myself.  So in a very real way, she was, and is, my most important teacher.

Happy birthday, Emzabelle.  I love you, sweetie.