The Delirious Smell


Of four-year old.  It is sand, sunshine, cheese pizza, hugs, warm bodies snuggled into your lap and cuddles.

Oh good lord, get off my ovaries.

I am not ready for kids, yet.  But these two little monkeys are just beyond belief.  First, I cannot believe they are four.  They are too worldly for four and their feet are too big and they are too smart to be four.  I think they are precocious thirty year olds in four-year old bodies.  Albeit, Charlie Reno has feet that are almost big enough to be a full-grown adult.

I have a feeling this boy is going to be very tall.  He’s a genuine heart breaker and so is Juniper Grace.  They are so much deliciousness wrapped up into these gorgeous balls of energy and spit fire and ferocious beauty.  I am constantly in awe when I see them and get to “wrassle” with them and have tickle fights and jump up and down on the couch.  Then, there’s the “stop, stop, stop” and we slow up the tickles, with maybe a little one here, behind the knee, or another there, under the chin.

Then stories.  Then cheese pizza.  Than more tickles.  Then jumping on the couch while wearing a mask and a wig and swinging a hula hoop.  Then more stories.  Then pajamas, tooth brushing, and snuggling.  I love my bunnies.  They make my heart sing.

Especially when I get sweet peachy hugs and kisses and remonstrances to crawl into bed with them and please, Carmen, come sleep with me.

I want to so very badly.  But I am supposed to be on watch, although I am doing this one “pro bono” for the parents.  Juni’s parents have been looking after my cats and Reno’s parents let me stay in their spare bedroom for the first week and a half in December.  I owe them one.

I want nothing more than to go back down stairs and curl up next to Juni and feel her warm body snuggle into mine.  There may be nothing more divine than a small warm child that trusts you implicitly curling up in your arms, breath sweet with sleep, heavy and soft.  Especially when said child, says, no, wait stop, “cheek brushing” and rubs her downy soft cheek against yours.

Who needs anything else?

It was good for me to come here tonight.  Being around the two of them helped to alleviate some of the stress of moving.  I will be getting up earlier tomorrow than normal, and hiking over to Gough and Grove to the City Car Share lot to grab my Toyota Tacomo truck.  I almost waited too long, in fact, I thought I had, to reserve it.

Turns out I had to adjust the time on it.  So, I will be getting up earlier than normal to make sure I get access to the truck period.  End of the month and I am not the only monkey in the city moving.  Even if my head tells me no one else moves about as much as I, oh nomadic one.

I was in a bit of a panic this morning trying to “figure out” how it all was going to happen.  Then I realized that I really just needed to do what ever small action was in front of me and go with that.  Shower, make couch (bed), heat up tea-pot, make bowl of oatmeal, do morning readings and quiet time, write, read some more, as I was still feeling ungrounded.  Call Carolyn.  Take suggestions.


Make lunch plans with Beth.


Stop trying to fix it, figure it out, change it, or adjust it.  Stop.

Breathe some more.

Then head to the Mission and take care of what needs being taken care of.  I left Nob Hill on foot and caught the 49 on Van Ness headed to the Mission.  I left my bike at work yesterday, one last thing to think about moving.  I made some phone calls.  I sat on the bus and watched the sun splatter off the buildings.  It was gorgeous out today.

I kept inside the moment.  I read a little.  I sat in my body, still.  I sat for an hour.  Listened, and heard what I needed.  Then I got to turn around and be useful to another person–one of Carolyn’s wise suggestions.  After coffee at Four Barrel, lunch at Sun Flower with Beth.

The waiter knows me and laughs, places my order, does not even bother to give me a menu.  One day I will not get the veggie salad with hot tea and he will fall over in shock.

I had a nice lunch.  I talked with my friend.  I did my best to listen to her, I have been realizing that I am not the best friend out there, I turn the conversation back to my “problems” all the time.  I still did that today, but when I noticed it, I asked after the other person.  It was really helpful to listen to someone else rather than radio KFUK in my head.  I thought the volume was pretty low, but when I went to the bathroom at the restaurant it came back on full force.

Go back to Nob Hill, scour the apartment, get flowers, buy nice coffee, make thank you banner, wash clothes, pack, pack, pack.

Whoa.  Slow down there, little one.

I asked Beth what she would do instead.  She said yes to the thank you banner, I mean card, and no to the rest of it.  Maybe flowers.  Maybe.  But only if it would not stress me out.  She said, go walk, be outside, enjoy the day.

So I did.

And what  a nice day to walk about the Mission and enjoy being who I am exactly as I am.  The sun shone down.  The bicycles were out in force.  Musicians played out on the side-walk.  I drifted about window shopping here and there.  I stopped in Harringtons to size up the shelving unit I had purchased last week, it’s not as big as I feared, which is a relief as the room is smaller than I had remembered.

I wandered in and out of little boutique art galleries and book shops and discovered Mission Comics and! OH! MY! GOD!

I bought the most ridiculously wonderful thing there–a women’s centric baseball t-shirt in pink and black with, wait for it, Bunnicula the Vampire Bunny on it!  Holy shit.  I love Bunnicula.  I also love the fact that nobody knows what the hell I am talking about when I say that.  I am apparently one of three people in the entire world who have seen that cartoon, it was an ABC weekend cartoon special based on the book, I believe.

Screw the smurfs.  Vampire bunnies are the bomb.  He sucked the life out of carrots, fyi.  Don’t be scared.

I had to have it.  Bunnicula will be my moving day mascot.

Then I had dinner at Casa Sanchez, the carnitas plate, best carnitas in the city, for my money.  And there was a jazz combo playing in the middle of the restaurant.  Little kids running around, three middle age women in the kitchen serving up platters of black beans and rice and tortillas, carnitas, and limes and salsa.  Latin jazz and old grandpa’s keeping an eye on the whole scene.  Awesomeness.

Tea at Sugar Lump.  Then walk over to Potrero for the four-year old fest.

Carolyn was right.  Beth was right.  Y’all were right.  I get to find that stillness within myself, centered in myself, and despite the exterior changes and the imminent move, I found some serenity.

In the soft, sleepy cheek of a little girl and her stuffed dog Biscuit; in the sweet kiss from my tow headed boy under the yellow glow of his moon night light shimmering down on Star Wars sheets.

Now, pardon me, I have some more snuggling to go do.

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