Long fatty post

Winter purity

Tonight I drove through magic.  The kind of quiet, late-night sparkling beauty that speaks to the luxury of being alone.  I like the quiet danger of being out in a snow storm when things are a bit out of control.  Its the same feeling I get on a motorcycle - powerful, vulnerable, and somehow a feeling a great stillness and rest.

Being a personality chameleon, I like being around people that draw out my vital streams.   Always, in times of snowy unknown, I think of an unusual old friend. Have you ever met a young person that felt so seasoned from their life’s twists, that they seemed ageless, almost iconic?  Trubert Flowers (yes, his real name) was (and I assume is) like that.  In the height of America’s grunge period, I met this no holds barred American cowboy.  Quiet, prepared and mischevious, I had never seen anything like him.  Full on six-shooters, chaps, Wranglers and snapfront shirt.  I rudely gaped in amazement the first time I met him.  I was sure he was joking. Or a circus clown.

I traveled through Amarillo, his landing spot, several times. I’d join friends in sledding behind his horses and watching him break a horse.  I even learned how to crack one hell of a long bullwhip – poorly, I might add.  But my favorite experiences were getting caught with my girlfriends in his truck on the highway in snowstorms.  I remember being pretty scared coming home with a few of my teammates from a church service in his truck.  Winter storms blow up fast and nasty around the panhandle.  It becomes quickly apparent who is prepared and who’s going to be waiting for a tow.

I watched Trubert, a man at ease in his element, comfortable with the unexpected and even enjoying it.  He pulled car after car out of the ditches while we girls sat like idiots.  I barely drove a stick shift –let alone that behemoth of a truck he tooled around in.

Observing him made me want to be stronger, less oblivious, and more prepared.  So in the snow tonight, I embraced the strength of knowing more of who I am and liking it.  When the wheels spun and the snow was thick, I remembered that I could be at rest; I could enjoy the purity of winter.

Yah, I did it.

Just voted early.

 Feeling pretty happy that although I was directed to several false locations, had to wait behind 35 non-english speaking individuals, had a sleeping baby laying on top of me and was holding A's french fries and my 13 lb purse in my voting pen hand - I did it.  And we live in a country where I can - my looks, my gender, my mental status :) cannot keep me from selecting whomever I so choose.

I am excited about this election and encourage procrastinators like me to get in the absentee vote window -   let's go people!

Afton's 1st drive-date!

Obama-drama

Jen, thank you for the reminder.  Did I not lovingly suggest ever so long ago that Barack was one to watch?  I swear this is the only election in all my voting years that feels like I don't have to choose between two big fat liars.

By the way, if I hear "Maverick" one more time, I'll never be able to watch that cheeseball movie again.  Talk about verbal burnout.  And for all you pro-lifers - I am still as hard-core as ever in believing in both the life of the mom and the babies - but if you are gullible enough to vote on one topic only for the leader of our nation...all I have to say is please use both lobes of your God-given brain.  There are many ways to fight abortion and blindly choosing a candidate because of one topic is like blindly choosing a candidate because they are supposedly christian.  C'mon people - whether at the local, national or international level we must look at the FULL picture. 

Frankly, I don't dislike a person for voting their party.  What I hate is uneducated voting, or even worse - getting the "list" from a pastor telling you that real christians only vote republican.  Just peels my skin, that one.

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One more Cedar

Today I took only Cedar to church.  As we drove, I pointed out the geese flying overhead and shared how the point goose will lead and then fall back when tired and another goose will replace him and how they repeat this process for their entire migration.  They "share leadership".  (My not-so-subtle attempts at parenting the kids power struggle). 

Cedar says, "Like worship".  I didn't get the connection so her repeated it.  I realized he was talking about what he sees modeled at the church.  Levi and Theresa have "shared leadership" during worship.  So I probed a bit and asked him, "what does it mean to be a leader to you?"

He remarked that "a leader protects and helps."

How simple and precious out of the mouth of a 6 yr old.

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Not just a ladle...

While doing dishes, Cedar picked up the large soup ladle and commented under he breath, "is this for soup or for poop?"

I kid you not.  He is scarred from Aftons turdlet floaties from 1 yr ago.  Angie Ladd is scarred from Afton filling her kiddie pool with...well, y'know...and then making a beeline for the big kids' pool. 

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turtle-brain

So I moved into an area that is type A.  Not generally a big deal until you have da wee ones.  And they enter school. 

My brain being the gift that it is, vainly struggles to keep above water when it comes to "Now make sure your child brings a turtleneck to school on Monday" turning into "Mom, no one else had a turtle at school on Monday..."

There is a strange underlying current in the brains of women on the A side.  I'm not sure how to navigate these waters.  I know I am a frustration, an amusement, sometimes even an irritation.  Our world seems to be on the terms of the A type.  I have actually taken jobs and responsibilities completely out of my league in these linear lines of work to try to grow and mature over the last 10 yrs.  But over time, I've discovered I just feel like the weirdo. 

What do spiritual, artistic people do that involves building bridges and not cloistering and complaining about A-land... I'm pursuing what that means for my little world right now.  I've polished the outside for long enough and long for my inner rawness to get messy and find my voice in spirituality and art.  My wildness needs my empowerment.  I LOVE my type A friends and actually need them.  I think thats part of the power and humility of community.  It's just time for me to be over the sense of insecurity of not measuring up  - because in these areas I will never in my weakness be as glorious as someone's strengths.

How freeing.  How beautiful.  Where is my dreadlock wig?

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