Slow And Steady

by

I took it really easy today.

Really.

I slept until noon.

NOON.

I made the bed.  I read some daily reflections.  I got on my knees and asked to be guided.

I was guided to a bubble bath.

Mr. Bubble

Mr. Bubble

Yesterday when I was lost looking to make it to Grace Land proper, I stopped by the Lucky Super Market and there it was–Mister Bubble–and I scooped it right up.

When was the last time I took a bubble bath?

I cannot for the life of me recall.  Yet, as soon as I cracked open that pink bottle of joy I  remembered what felt like every single bubble bath I had ever taken.  The stuff smells good.  I don’t know that I will indulge all that often in the bath time and the bubbles, but having a claw foot tub at my disposal, now that says good times.

I was also going to go and get my nails done.

I did not.

I took out the trash, fed the cats, did the cat litter, recycling, and folded and put away my laundry.  I took care of business.  I wrote my long hand pages.  I sent a few e-mails out.  I sent a submission to a photographer I met at Burning Man who is working on a book and asked me to send him something to accompany that photo he took of me at Center Camp Cafe.

Was I just really at Burning Man?

My body says, hell yes you were.

I cannot fathom what I did that was so strenuous, I am sore, sore, sore.

Thus the bubble bath.

I also balanced my check book, help unload another round of Burning Man supplies from Juno’s van, her friend Anna got a hold of me and came over.

Thus the bubble bath.

For despite having taken a shower yesterday, I did have to wash away another layer of playa after helping Anna unload her supplies.  The van is coated inside and out.  I vacillated all day today on whether or not I was going to take it into the city and do some errands.

I did not.

The only errand I tried to do was walk to the nail salon.

But after a block and a half, seeing a prostitute finish off a john in his car, getting propositioned as soon as I locked up the gate (dude, I was taking the recycling to the curb, do I really look like a working girl?), and again half a block later, I turned right back around and headed back to Grace Land.

I will do my nails myself, thank you very much.

The master of the house had said told me to not walk anywhere.  Duly noted.  Won’t be walking again.  I will take the van to the city tomorrow morning and run a few errands before work.  Then, as my bike has been in storage at the shop, I will park it at a garage and after I get done with work I will ride my bike to the garage, load it up and take it back to Oakland.

Thursday Juno is back and I will hand over the van to her and bike to BART and back for the rest of my time here in Fruitvale–the part of Oakland I am in.

My phone tried to auto-correct to Fruit Cake when I was sending a text message out today.

Fruit Cake.

Exactly.

I also did a nice twenty minute mediatation today.  Sitting in the sun slanting through the stained glass windows.

Lovely.

The cats are total snuggle bunnies; which is sumptious after the dust bunnies I have been snuggling with for the last few days.  They snuggled with me last night and despite the warning from the owner that they would most likely wake me up in the morning, they were good little monkeys and let me sleep in.

I think I am going to like staying here at Grace Land.

It is serene.

The commute may be a little bit of a challenge and I have yet to figure how I will get my meetings in, but I am sure things will suss themselves out.

They always do.

I also spoke briefly to the moms, who thought I was in New Mexico.

Burning Man, you know, that art’s festival in New Mexico, loads of turquoise jewlery and burnt sienna sunsets.

Ah, mom.

She told me of her plans for our time together, eleven days hence, and I agreed to just go with the flow.  I will pack a swim suit, my amends note card.  Gah, still cannot believe I will be doing a face to face.

Sweeping up my side of the street yet again.

She laughed about her grey hair, I told her about my blue hair.

She paused, exclaimed, “blue?”

Uh, yup, blue, not quite as bright as it was when Diane first did it, but there is no denying that it is blue, and rainbow panelled.

Like I am not already bright enough as it is with my tattoos, add on blue hair to the mix.  My mom seemed to have a small heart attack on the phone.  I suppose I will be the talk of her gated golf cart community for the next millieneum.

If any of them live that long.

I also told her that I know how to drive a golf cart as that is how I did my job at Burning Man.  Granted I don’t think fluffing is anything like how they use their carts–they have three!

Maybe I’ll ask if they can spare one of them, my friend Dubble is looking for a sponsor to donate three carts to next years event–he did not have nearly enough to do the job proper and make sure all his team members were taken care of.

Although I don’t think that getting a golf cart from Florida to Burning Man would be an easy task.

Perhaps easier than walking to the corner to get my nails did though.

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