Posts Tagged ‘The Grand Canyon’

The Student Life

July 27, 2015

It officially began today.

I sat down with my course readers and syllabi.

I outlined the reading that needed to be done before I head to the retreat in Petaluma–two weeks from today.

TWO!

Holy Mother of God.

Not to take this all so god damn seriously, but wow, how did the time go by so fast?

Don’t I have any summer vacation left?

I do, I think.

But I don’t believe it’s going to be the going out-of-town camping trip that I had discussed with my friend.

Where for art thou, friend?

I forget that people need space and that no response, well, it is a response, so keep the focus tight, like on me, and what can I do today, just today for self-care.

What indeed.

Well.

As it turns out, and I had forgotten, it’s been a few years since I’ve been in school, oh, like um, 13 I think, that having something to do in regards to my academic career has a direct and distinct correlation to how clean my space is.

Like hey.

Look at that.

My place is sparkling.

I striped the bed, laundered the sheets, did a load of laundry, scrubbed the toilet and bathroom sink, scrubbed the stove top, fuck, I even wiped out the fridge, dusted the bookshelves, swept, vacuumed, and swiffer’ed the floors (yeah, I know Swiffer is not a verb, but what else do you call that thing?).

My place is shiny and bright.

I mean, let’s be frank, it’s not like it was a disaster zone, but you know, dusty and in need of a sweep, but once I got going I knew I was in it and might as well do the whole shebang.

It’s a  way to distract myself from what is in front of me.

Stacks.

And stacks.

And.

Stacks of reading.

I also hopped in the shower, ate nice meals, two of which were outside on the back porch, the fog blew off and the sun made an appearance today.

Which was both heartening and upsetting as I really wanted to be outside doing something other than reading my graduate school readers, but, hey, I ate outside and my stewed chicken in tomato sauce with garlic and onions and yellow peppers over turmeric spiced brown rice and perfect ripe avocado, well, it was a delight to eat al fresco and sit in the sun.

Contemplating the reading to come.

But.

Before that.

Two ladies came through to do the deal and then a phone call check in with my person who suggested that I focus on my self-care and having fun rather than worry about my friend.

Although I got to have my sad feelings I didn’t let the day slip by being morose, I kept turning the focus back on what was in front of me.

And when there was nothing else to clean and lunch had been had and I even snuck in a half hour of sitting in the sun with a W magazine and a quick flip through the latest Vanity Fair, I came to the conclusion.

It was time.

I don’t foresee doing a lot of pleasure reading for a while, so I’m glad I gave myself to do so yesterday and really enjoy the hell out of the books I read and the excerpt of the book I read from a friend who has been working on a collection of shorts that is really going to be a fantastic novel and I’m going to say, “I knew him when,” and “I read that before you did,” and “I always knew he was a great writer, you should read his holiday letters.”

Which you should.

They are marvels of Midwestern Americana with a kind of wry wit that is at time dark, but always lovingly painted and I find myself transported to the scene at their home when ever I get them.

Which is the point of good writing–being transported to the picture that the writer wants you to see.

He does it.

Really good.

Anyway.

I’m not going to get that kind of reading for a while.

I may give myself a set half hour or so once in a while to have that pleasure reading, but I can see that I have a lot of work ahead of me.

It is going to be a long, arduous, committed and continual moving through material, processing it, understanding it, writing about it.

Fuck.

I mean.

I have papers due before I go to Burning Man.

BEFORE!

I just about peed my pants when I saw that on one of the syllabi.

And not just a paper, multiply papers.

I mean, I will have submitted work on readings I have done before actually going through the orientation at the school.

Good gravy man.

As much as I wish I was camping along the North Rim of The Grand Canyon, I am actually grateful that my employers changed up their vacation plans and I ended up having to work tomorrow and Tuesday.

It meant cancelling  a trip I was very much looking forward to, but it got my ass down to the Copy Central shop to pick up my readers and get going on the work.

I read 50 pages today for my Human Development class.

It took me three hours.

Fuck.

Three hours.

I can read more than a page a minute, that means 60 pages in an hour.

Then I realized a couple of things–one, this ain’t no pleasure reading, this is serious reading and though the concepts are not completely foreign, they are dense; next, I’m reading to retain, not to enjoy, which meant going back over a few things and re-reading them to make sure I understood what I was reading, plus underlining, highlighting, and taking pertinent notes in the margins of the reader.

Lastly, and not to be taken lightly, I realized the 50 pages were actually closer to 100 pages.

The reader is larger than a book, thus the pages often had two pages of a text or article printed on each page.

Reading one page was in essence reading two.

So that makes my speed of reading a little better, 100 pages in three hours is a much better ratio and caused me to feel some relief.

And.

I finished the assigned reading for the retreat, in the reader (I still have the first three chapters of an accompanying text-book to read as well, but it hasn’t been delivered to the house yet) for my class on Human Development.

I have time.

In fact, I think I may be able to actually read all the required reading twice.

I’ve got some highlighters to invest in and some time to set aside, but I can see it happening.

I also knew to take some care and take a break, to eat dinner while not reading, to sit out in the late afternoon sun and enjoy my meal.

Then I finished that last hour of reading and went for a walk down on the beach to catch the sunset before coming back here to blog.

I will strike a balance, the work will get done.

And how grateful am I to know so well.

Easy does it.

One day at a time.

First things, first.

And breathe.

Don’t forget to breathe.

It’s all going to be alright.

It already is.

There’s Carmen!

July 17, 2015

“I just wanted to let you know that’s been me hollering at you on the way to work,” she said with a laugh and patted me on the arm.

“I see you all the time and you wave, but I don’t think you know who is yelling at you,” her eyes twinkled and I laughed.

“That was you!”  I smiled, “I was wondering who’s been giving me the hello’s.”

It’s nice to be seen.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently.

Allowing myself to be seen.

“You have to know that whatever happens, you meet the love of your life at Burning Man,” I pushed my friend’s shoulder, “no, I mean it, that whatever happens, this is important.”

And it is.

And there was a lot more said, but I am not comfortable relaying all that here.

Suffice to say.

I am being seen.

And as for meeting the love of my life at Burning Man.

I already did.

It’s me.

I stopped Calling in the One when I realized that I was the Beloved and that I was the love of my life and no one will love me as hard or as well as I love me.

That being said, it’s a constant practice, a constant, not struggle, it’s not a struggle any more, it used to be; rather a concerted and continuous work of being kind to myself, taking care of myself, loving myself.

Letting myself express myself and be who I am.

I am many things and as I learn to be continually open to vulnerability and emotional connection in the very real and the very present time, I get to see how deep the damage has been in my life.

And.

How far I have come.

I mean.

Really.

I have made amazing strides in my life and to not acknowledge that is a kind of affront to the work I have put in.

It is not all work though.

I must have some fun in the mix.

For instance.

I had two unexpected cancellations for this Saturday.

I have to get some fun in my Saturday.

I do still have plans, I’m helping a friend with some stuff, but I have extra time on my hands to find a little fun for me.

Whatever that looks like.

Some fellowship, some cards, some pinball, a museum jaunt.

I would love to see the Turner exhibit at the DeYoung.

I keep hearing great things about it and I have not been to the DeYoung in a while.

I do have things I need to attend to, book gathering, loan deferment paperwork, cooking, et al, the stuff and routine of life.

A mani and pedi.

The small pleasures that I allow myself to have are important to the quality of my life.

Framing the Marilyn print from the MOCA and hanging the Diebenkorn up in my room.

I am negotiating a ride out to Cheap Pete’s in the Inner Richmond to get that together.

I’m navigating other rides too.

It does indeed look like I will get to have a little more summer vacation before the work, the study, the balancing act of what my life is going to look like come school start, begins.

I am currently in the planning stages of going to the Grand Canyon.

I have never been and I am over the moon excited.

My friend and I would leave on a Tuesday, July 28th and head to the North Rim and a secret special spot for camping that a friend of his knows about that is not heavily touristed.

There has been talk of Monumental Valley and Bryce Canyon as well.

To tell you the truth.

I know nothing.

I really have no conception of what is out there and what it looks like and what I exactly want to see.

Except.

I want a road trip.

I love the open road, I love seeing new things, I love the vista from the car seat, I love watching the sky scroll by, I love singing along to songs on the radio, I love putting my feet, bare feet, up on the console of the car and scrunching up in my seat and being just simply free, happy and content, and I love telling stories on the road.

There is just something so soothing and satisfying about it.

Plus camping?

Please.

Bring it on.

Campfires underneath the stars, country, out of the city for a while, back roads, which I suppose we won’t actually do if we are going to get in what my friend has suggested, there’s also been talk of Death Valley and maybe squeaking in the top part of Yosemite, not going into the valley itself but driving along Tioga Road.

Again.

No clue.

No conception.

I suppose I could google some images, but open road, is well, open road.

And I love me a road trip.

Plus, more time with my friend before the onslaught of school.

More being seen.

More being myself.

More allowing abundance and joy and fun and flexibility into my life.

“Joy of living is my principle today,” I said into the phone and smiled at the imprint of flower blossoms, pink and fat and truculent against the sky blue sky.

It might have been because I got a ride to work and that’s a treat.

It could have been that the weather was kind and sunny and inviting and I do so much better in the sun than out of the sun.

It could be that tomorrow is Friday.

Whatever it was I was going to enjoy it, to keep enjoying it and be as present as possible every inch of the way.

Even when it was hard.

“Hit Carmen! Hit Carmen!” The oldest brother instigated his brother in a game of, well, I can’t tell you what the game was, it was high energy though, and when I went to pick up the three-year old for our outing to the park I got hit, hard, in the face, brought to tears, this kid does not know his own strength.

“You,” I said to the five-year old, “to your room, five minutes, no talking.”

I pointed to the door and he fled.

I picked up the three-year old I had abruptly set down on the bed.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

We saw each other.

His eyes got wide and teary.

“Please, please, please, don’t hit me,” I said to him.

Then I paused.

I could see he was about to get pretty upset and I wanted to be stern, but not too stern.

I wanted him to see me, to know that I was hurt.

I also knew that he would probably forget, as he did in about five minutes, and I would get smacked again (he’s in a phase, but I think it’s passing), but for the moment, in the moment we connected.

He saw me.

“I’m sorry Carmen, what can I do to make it better?”

Oh.

Out of the mouths of babes.

“I could use a hug, sweet pie.”

He gave me a hug and burrowed into my arms, then off we went on our adventure.

The grandparents accompanied us to the park for one last outing before they left on the plane today.

There was much digging of sand and pouring of buckets and shovels flying and dump trucks dumping and when that became mundane, there was grandma to push the swing.

And.

One sweet five-year old boy.

“Carmen,” he said plopping down next to me on the cement wall, “I just want to sit next to you and eat grapes.”

He leaned into me.

“I love you too much.”

Oh.

My heart.

Little pie.

I love you too.

I love hard.

I live hard.

I try hard not to be seen.

Yet.

There I am.

Being seen and allowing myself the freedom to be exactly who I am in the exact moment of whatever is happening.

It is an amazing gift.

Astounding.

This love.

Bright.

Sweet.

Tender.

All encompassing.

All the love.

All the things.

The Poppins

July 11, 2015

Has placed her order.

And I am just about done with my Burning Man prep.

See lady, it wasn’t so bad.

Of course, its vastly helpful that the folks I’m camping with are pretty much providing my shelter, that’s a load off my mind and so much wrangling that does not have to be done.

Over the moon grateful.

Although I did have a friend offer me full access to his camping gear, I was loath to take him up on the offer.

Unless a person has been to Burning Man and seen what the wreckage of the playa can do to their things, I would not want to take someone’s nice camping gear and get it all dusty.

That being said, I would love to do some more camping outside of just Burning Man.

Yosemite.

The Grand Canyon.

Bryce Canyon.

Some Avenue of the Giants.

Joshua Tree.

There are lots of places.

Crater Lake.

I can go on.

For the now.

For the present.

For the just for today.

I am wrapping up some Burning Man supplies and making sure they get here before I leave for that great dust bowl in the Black Rock Desert.

It wasn’t much, but I got what I needed.

Zip ties.

They are magical and everyone should have a plethora.

A new purple flag pennant to replace my old one, it’s pretty beat up, on my bicycle.

And also for my bicycle some more lights.

I have wheel lights on the front wheel, but I also got some solar-powered lights I’m going to string up along the frame for night-time illumination and riding.  I don’t particularly care about seeing with my lights, so much as being seen.

And yes, one pair of tights.

Just because I like the tights.

My Burning Man uniform routinely consists of tights, boots, tank tops, and boy shorts with a holster, a bunch of fabric flowers in my hair, bright makeup, and a parasol.

And last, but certainly not least, that’s right, I made sure to order a new parasol.

Since I left the one I bought in Atlanta on the plane and well, haha, the one I ordered online will match my bicycle and well, that’s how I like to roll.

Glittery, purple, flowered, bedazzled up.

Sparkly.

The Poppins is ready to ride.

And in other news.

Yes.

It’s Friday.

I thought I had some plans this evening with a friend and I haven’t heard back from him, so I might be staying in for the evening, but what a lovely evening it is.

We had talked about doing a bonfire in my back yard again and it is most definitely the night for it, the air was lovely riding home through the park and though not warm, it’s not chilly out there like it normally is this time of year–you know, July.

In fact, when the sun came out today and lit up the Mission like diamonds I was happily surprised by the warmth and the blue skies.

July being notorious in San Francisco for cool, foggy, grey weather.

Speaking of bicycle.

Man, she is riding like a dream.

I don’t think I realized how desperate she was for some love and attention.

I have a tendency to do that with my things, beat on them, ride them hard, not take care of them as well as I should.

But.

I gradually get better and I recognize that proper care of my property ends up being better for me and I get to keep having nice things.

I ran into my friend who helped me through the scooter fiasco and the getting it recycled at Scooter Centre et al, and he asked when I was going back to buy the Buddy Italia in Avocado with racing stripes.

I shrugged.

I don’t know.

I am on the fence to tell you the truth.

The ride home through the park is so glorious, it’s luscious when the air is like it is tonight and I felt that I would miss the riding if I had the scooter.

Plus, I don’t want to outlay any money right now.

I am going to be going down to part-time in September with work and yes, I did get a lot of money awarded me to go to graduate school–but that’s just going to be paying for tuition, not so much living expenses.

I am currently weighing whether or not I should pre-pay a bunch of rent so I don’t have to be concerned with it or if I should sock it all away in my savings account and collect some interest on it before paying a lot of rent upfront.

Neither here nor there, I suppose.

I’m currently not sitting on that money.

The awards letter still has not arrived.

And.

The reader I e-mailed about to start getting my materials together is not in stock at the store I e-mailed.

I have vowed that over the weekend I will sit down, look at all my files and information regarding the syllabus and make a list of what I need to get and where to get it.

I want to have that taken care of by the end of the weekend.

Not so I can start the reading by Sunday, but just to have the ball rolling along.

It’s much easier to pick up momentum if I’m already into action.

And that’s it.

That’s all that’s on my plate.

Well.

There’s other stuff there.

But I won’t be writing about it right now.

I’m waiting to see what develops and to continue to keep the focus on what’s right in front of me.

Like.

Taking a shower.

That’s the next indicated action tonight.

Despite my desire to know more.

That’s all I need to know.

That and I have a band new lavender, pagoda style parasol.

(And some zip ties)

Coming to my mail box soon.

Mary Fucking Poppins needs her parasol.

I mean.

Really.

It wouldn’t be Burning Man.

For me.

Without one.

Teeny, Tiny Steps

July 10, 2015

But forward movement.

Always.

That was what I promised myself when I checked in with my person yesterday and we talked about my fear around the process of getting my course work and reading materials to begin the work outlined in my syllabi for the graduate program.

Holy cats kids.

It’s happening.

It’s coming up.

I have the retreat, which is a part of my first semester of school, in one month.

It is August 9th-16th in Petaluma and I will have my reading done by then.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes I will.

I haven’t purchased any readings yet, although on a complete side note I did find a fantastic shoulder holster on Etsy that I bought for Burning Man.

I have a hip holster and I use it frequently, but there are times when I want something smaller and I have been eyeing up a shoulder holster for a while now.

I found one I like.

I have the money in my spending plan.

And voila.

One more little thing taken care of.

It wasn’t too expensive and it will come out of my clothing allowance for the month, so I don’t even feel like it was a splurge, just something nice to have for myself that I will use and re-use.

I don’t believe this will be my last Burning Man.

I also had the pleasure of being reached out from of all places the Tales from The Playa blog post I submitted a while back that was published on the Burning Man website.

A husband and wife with a two-year old daughter, artists from Paris of all places, are coming for their second burn and wanted tips and suggested for how to burn with their daughter.

It’s nice to know that I can help others with taking their kids to Burning Man and be of service by sharing my experience.

Anyway, aside from the small Burning Man prep that I did, I also investigated deferring my student loan while I am in school.

I realized that with the retreat being in a month, this would be the last month that I make a student loan payment on my undergrad loans.

Which are just slightly less than I thought they were, I just checked, they are still hefty and I have often despaired of every paying them off, but I will, I know I will, I have faith, they currently stand at $31.000 and change.

I don’t pay a whole lot on the monthly, but as my employment will drop down to part-time and I still got to figure out how to pay for my general everyday costs of living in San Francisco, I will need every single spare cent I can spare.

There’s a small part of me that actually wanted to not defer the payment and I may opt to at least continue to make small payments on the interest, but I don’t want to burden myself with extra financial worry when I can with all credibility defer due to being in school full-time.

The paperwork is a bit onerous and it looks like I am going to have to down load it, print it, fill it out by hand, then take it to a person in the financial aid office at CIIS and have them put the official stamp of approval on the request.

One tiny step.

Go to my student loan services website, log in, and look at the paperwork.

That’s all I have to do.

I don’t have to do it perfect, I don’t have to do it all today, I don’t have to figure it out.

One small action taken.

Tomorrow when I go to work I will ask if I may borrow the printer in the office, I’ll print off  the form and then I will fill it out on my lunch break.

I will then call the financial aid office and ask when I can come in and have the form signed so that I may send it out in the mails and have it all set up before August rolls around.

I have a month.

I will get the things done.

And tomorrow I can also find out about meeting with my advisor.

I can e-mail the department.

I may just do that tonight and see about killing two birds with one stone and make an appointment to meet with my advisor and go to the financial aid office and get them to fill out the paperwork.

I can also find out what’s going on with my awards package.

I have yet to receive it in the mail.

I have been watching the mail like a hawk.

I did get my postcard from Atlanta though!

That was fast.

I wasn’t expecting to already get it, postcards seem to take a while to get to me when I mail them out.  And as I had forgotten that I mailed it, I had a nice surprise when I looked in my mail box this evening.

A little reminder of what happens when I take those baby steps.

I wrote about wanting to go to Atlanta long before I took any real “actions” the writing was the first part.

Then more writing, some affirmations, some I am a world traveler writing and the destination I plugged in was Atlanta (since having done this many times before and it always seems to work out–I have written about traveling to Paris, lived there six months, going to London, to Rome, to Burning Man, travel to San Diego, I am writing now about the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Yosemite, Joshua Tree, and Paia, Maui–where my grandmother was born) and eventually I took another action.

I registered for the conference.

Then another action.

I started looking for flights.

Then for lodging.

And eventually, without having to make a huge deal out of it, I got to Atlanta and went and now I am back.

Getting ready to do the graduate school thing and get into those books and do the fully self-supporting financial actions that I have also been writing about.

One of which is: I am financially successful and self-supporting, I have paid my student loans in full.  I have paid my graduate school tuition in full (when I started writing that I had no clue I was even going to apply for a scholarship, let alone win two.).  And this last one, which cracks me up, but is true, I own a new Casper mattress.

I want a new bed.

Sleep is going to be very important to my graduate school endeavors, I know it.

So.

One little baby step today.

And the ball starts rolling and the next thing you know I’ll be putting my name plate above the door of my own private practice.

Well.

Let me not get too far ahead of myself.

I know what I need to do next.

And I know that as long as I stay focused on the small actions in front of me, the rest will follow.

It always does.

The Perfect Autumn Day

November 23, 2013

For chasing leaves around the park.

The grass was an emerald-green that defied Technicolor and the leaves falling from the sugar maples on the edges of Duboce Park flashed and flew and we chased each other around stomping our feet.

CRUNCH.

CRUNCH.

Crunch.

Ah leaf pile fights.

How do I miss thee, let me count the rake pulls.

It’s been a good while since I have handled a rake, but today I was remembering autumn days and though the sunlight belied the calendar, I knew that riding home tonight it would be cold and I would be grateful for the extra layer of my hoodie under a jean jacket.

But until then.

CRUNCH.

Leaves

Leaves

My little charge and I had a splendid day today.

We do not usually see each other on Fridays and it was interesting to be in the neighborhood as it headed into the weekend.

The excitement in the air, the joy that was tinged with a tiny thread of bittersweet, everyone seemed to know that days like this are rare, far between and must to be enjoyed.

I was barely at my charges house before tucking her into a pullover and putting her hair up in pig tails.

I was out the door and into the sun.

I am no fool.

Though I may have looked like one at times chasing her around various parks.

I could have cared less.

The thick sun light dying at the edge of Alamo Square park as we made our last stroll around the top of the hill was like honey in her hair and I could not stop taking photographs of her.

Mom is off at a conference all weekend and I sent her loads of photographs.

As I was looking at the down loaded shots tonight while sipping my tea, I noticed that I now have over 6,100 photos in my computer.

Where do they all come from?

My god.

I don’t necessarily have an idea as to what to do with them, but I am fond of having them.

I don’t go through them after I down load them except to post a few to my photo blog or maybe put a couple in an album on facecrack.

Just like I don’t go through my blogs after I write them.

I have thoughts about doing it, but never really do.

Once they are typed they go off to the world and who knows where they shall land.

Little messages in a bottle piling up on some digital shore somewhere in the universe.

Maybe they go back to some constellation of stars at the edge of the universe made out of alphabet letters and when the time is right they fall back through the black skies to land in the head of another writer somewhere looking for just that word there.

While the little one was napping I finished Tom Robbins Still Life With Woodpecker, wrote three pages long hand, had some tea, meditated for a half hour and started up Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

I have never read it.

There are so many books I have never read.

So many ways of saying something that I have not even experienced.

Yet the words danced on the page and I was suddenly on the road with the narrator.

That was awesome.

“I see one of those in your near future,” my friend said acknowledging a motorcycle just in front of us on the street.

Yes.

I would like.

And the surf board.

But the cycle was calling to me.

One of my favorite childhood memories is riding on a motorcycle with my dad.

Magic.

I don’t know that either of us was wearing a helmet, I just remember how present I was and how utterly safe I felt and I wanted the ride to go on forever.

I remember seeing fireflies in the meadows of grass along the road at the twilight hour and the scent of a late summer night alive with sounds and insects, the swoop of barn swallows the song of lush life asserting itself.

The opening of the novel talks about the sloughs and marshes and I could see them, the lines of cattail and weeds at the marshes, the Great Blue Herons and their royal bearing as they sat silent in the reeds waiting for just that tasty slim minnow to flash by unsuspecting.

The thin leg steady and reedy looking.

The fish darts between the legs.

Flash.

The head ducks down, stabs the fish, the throat warbles, the crown of feathers shakes, ruffles of water ripple out, then in moments, silence.

Stillness.

The bird resumes its stance.

Reading it made me think of what I had written in today’s morning pages.

I have always written about being a world traveller and the last few months I have been thinking that I could stand some travelling in my own country.

I would like to do an extended road trip.

Now is not the time.

I am aware of that.

But some short jaunts.

Places I have not been and want to see.

Whether on the back of cycle or riding one myself.

In a rental flatbed truck with a sleeping bag to spread against the cab and look out the deeps of the prairies and see the stars spread like a quilt of eternity above me.

The Grand Canyon.

I have never seen it.

Yosemite.

Nope.

Appalachia.

No to that as well.

I thought about finding streams and wading in them, cold feet, rushing water.

The smell of campfires.

The deep quiet satisfaction of building one yourself and setting it properly.

The sleep of the outside world.

It was a seductive morning.

I live in California and there is so much I have not seen.

Or haven’t seen in a while.

Time for a day trip to Muir Woods.

Time for a drive out to Marin.

Time for a ride up the coast or down the coast.

I ride my bike past the park every day and there are certain parts that smell more wild and natural than have any right to smell deep in the heart of this urban landscape and I feel that pull to get out to it and be in it.

The perfect autumn day, in the park with my little charge, crunching leaves, thinking of apple picking at Sky High Apple Orchard outside of Baraboo in Wisconsin, climbing the Rock of Gibraltar in Columbia county, camping in the Upper Peninsula and long road trips to Door County at the tip of the state, memories of the great outdoors that never fail to stir something up inside my soul.

A little travel bug lit on me.

I am not intending to go anywhere wild and wooly or foreign, but I think once I have gotten through the holidays and all that they entail, whether or not I have plans yet for any of it, matters not, rather that when the new year rolls around I want to devote a little energy that way.

Until them I am off to prepare for a work day tomorrow at the old Mint downtown at 5th and Mission–Makers Mart–helping a friend sell her prints and art work.

Two days of that, one day of nannying on Monday, then six days in a row with not a whole lot to do.

Maybe I will go for a hike a long the sea cliffs.

I haven’t explored the Sutro baths.

I can start my little exploration in my own back yard.

Swim in the ocean.

Get together with anyone and go surfing.

Get the boogie board out.

Or just walk on the beach.

I may be in the city, but the outside is just there, a stones throw to the edge of the world, waiting for me to come join it.

To crunch again through the leaves and scuffle in the smell of all that is alive.

 


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