Orchestra to the Rescue

of course it was raining. obviously.

walking back from the grocery store, letting the misty hydration slowly soak my hair. allowing the unnecessary sweat that comes from wearing a raincoat to be delicately washed away. feeling the tears well, compounded by the misty-eyed rain.

my grocery bag, eggs, milk, spinach, carrots, soaking.
its cloth, which is debatable in this climate...

walking up Franklin street, straining to squelch my frown. trying to keep my forehead from wrinkling... that's what i do when my heart is aching. i try to dumb the emotions down to vanity.
it works.
often. in Africa i worked specifically on my flexibility and posture.
here, in the pacific northwest, i try to maintain a wrinkle free forehead. wrinkles come with thoughts of sadness. thoughts of failure. thoughts of loss.

we tried so hard, we made it through so much. and now we are without.  

walking, sensitive to the elements, the fundamental emotion of being the possessor of a broken heart, of a wounded spirit, begging for that glimmer of hope to return... or at least let me know its just napping.

suddenly, the sweet, cool vapors of misty rain mixed, collaborating with the muffling sound of the mist, with tears, was overpowered by, an odor of heat, of wet, of thick and powerful.

oh shit.

i looked down and barely half an inch from my right foot sits, steaming and bright, glistening and gooey, a pile of shit. fresh. hot. truly vaporous. vengeful. disgusting.
i look uphill to see that some unknowing cyclist tracked it all the way up the block.
disgusting. i, instinctively, stop crying because the inhale is making me nauseous.
i speed along, somewhat on the hunt for a dog owner that would be verbally lashed by yours truly, only to have my rage, my ache, my sadness, my loneliness, be thwarted.
by sound.

the odor, still lingering and fighting for my attention and still winning, was soon to be defeated by the glorious, floating, dancing sounds of strings, of applause, of silence and again, of song.

i stumbled, lucky to be sans shit-stain, upon a concert.
the Student Orchestras of Greater Olympia pulled me, pushed me, lifted me from a nasty funk.
with the symphonic sounds escaping the cracked doors of the Baptist Church on Franklin, a smile crept across my face.

and stayed.

of course it was raining. obviously. but even the mist couldn't quiet the sounds of sweetness.

this video is tragic and beautiful.
enjoy it as you see fit.

if you haven't already

Mary and Max :if you haven't already seen this remarkable movie, do so as soon as possible. It is a great fall show, one to help seasonal nesters nest and one worth snuggling-in and enjoying. Drink tea or sherry with this ditty and enjoy the art, the poignancy, the beauty and the love. Its remarkably sweet. Beautifully done. Happiness in clay form.

just under three years ago

my opinion of spring snow storms
Originally uploaded by syd.syd

Fisher was one. He is almost four. This still amazes me.

That Sweet Face

Zoe
Originally uploaded by syd.syd

For the most part, my dreams are terrors.
Night terrors have been haunting me lately, which is why, I believe, I've got the flu bug.
However, today, for the first time in 2 weeks, I'm wide awake. Up and at'em. Feeling alive again. And its all thanks to Zoe, rest in peace, for taking over my dreams last night. My dreams were of Zoe walking, Zoe in her wheels, Zoe dying, Zoe smiling, Zoe's sweetness, Zoe's curative mannerisms, Zoe knowing when I needed to be touched and knowing when I couldn't handle it.
Thank You, Zoe, for being a best friend, even in the afterlife.

when you're down and out, don't get busted, get baking

when i'm feeling low, or my temperature is high, i tend to turn to food. lucky for me, my parents instilled in me a healthful knowledge of food. i don't turned to snack foods, although i am a sucker for doritos and a dr. pepper... but generally, i turn to cooking, namely baking.

making something delightful from scraps, mixing the recipe's request with my own supplies and seeing how it turns out.

today i have a fever and the flu, i'm missing my parents (who are also under the weather) and my boyfriend, Ryan. i'm missing that sense of warmth that those people give me, that sense of wholeness that if oft lost on the phone.
anyway, i' missing those wee moments, more often than not, lost amongst the entirety of a situation, and am making wee pies.

wee pies came to fruition because of my adoration for cupcakes, their size and composition, because the Olympia Farmers Market has an amazing selection of berries, and, well, just because they are precious and delicious.

here is the recipe, i hope you enjoy:

Wee.Pies with no-roll pie crust recipe:
1 c whole wheat flour
1/2 c rolled oats,
1/4 c sugar,
1/2 c (liquid @ room temperature) coconut oil,
1/4 c cold water,
1/8 c milk,
dash of salt;
combine all dry ingredients, using a fork blend mixture and form small dip in the middle; there, in the dip, add the wet ingredients and blend mixture using the fork.
once thoroughly blended, press into greased dozen-cupcake pan.

Wee.Pies filling recipe:
3 c any mixture of fresh berries,
1/4 c of water,
1/2 c honey or sugar (or both!),
one chocolate bar - divided;
in a saucepan, boil water and sweetness, adding berries and lowering the heat to "cook down"; place 1/4 inch divisions of the chocolate bar to each pie crust; before the berries have all popped, use a slatted or small spoon to drain them of the juice and fill each pie crust; (tip: save juice from the boiled-berries in sealed container for cocktails or smoothies later, keep in fridge); bake at 400F for about 14 minutes!

voila!