Cooking Time

I'm feeling better after having spoken with Mom on Friday. It was good to hear her talk about her feelings around not wanting to seek major treatment (chemo, radiation, surgery), but rather to focus on keeping present and enjoying what time she is able to. Any of the traditional treatments would really lessen her ability to experience happiness and may not be successful either. She seemed lighter about the decision, more so than I've seen her about most anything.

Despite it having some reassurance this still is very hard and it felt like I was in a funk part of today. While making dinner I was particularly mindful and present. Letting the act of creating our meal be a mediation, letting my attention focus on the simple tasks, so rich in sound and scent, settle my mind. I was gratified that applying myself to cooking this way once more helped me feel grounded.

By 7pm I admitted that my tension headache had been with me since rising from the bed and the pinch on the right side of my neck & shoulder hadn't loosened up at all. Both were resistant to ibuprofen and revisiting how I felt about the stuff with Mom at at session with GM didn't help much at all.

I decided to stay home from the women's Dharma group but was mindful to sit at the same time I'd be sitting with them had I gone. Sitting wasn't quiet, my mind was all over the place in a familiar fashion. Zazen felt somewhat restful and I was able to be accepting toward the voices. I was eventually able to shift my focus from my breath to doing Metta practice for my Mom.

Cooking Time

Meal meditation,
Simple movements,
Rich with sound, scent.

Water rinsing.
Knife cutting.
Pan heating.
Food cooking.

Nothing more is
Necessary except
Breath,
Attention,
Gratitude.

Self-Cleaning Pottery

Several weeks ago I sent my teacher Hogen an artist trading card I'd made. It has the quote from Rumi on the back, that bit that has had me thinking and meditating around it since CK gave me the book for my birthday!

Ask!
Step off
proudly into sunlight,
not looking back.

Take sips of this pure wine being poured.
Don't mind that you've been given a dirty cup.

It has been useful to consider myself as the cup and the various abusive moments in my life as the stains of the cup. The imagery has become a way to see that in being caught up in the stains I'm entirely not present to the pure wine being poured, not able to appreciate my life. When I am stuck in the pain, and the habitual reactions around it, it is like drinking the wine while complaining about the cup.

When I sent the trading card to Hogen I enclosed it inside of a beautiful card with koi painted on it. Faced with the blank interior of the inside of this card my mind rushed to put something, anything that might sound like I'm a decent student. In that speedy awkwardness I wrote down something about practice being a way of cleaning the stains of the cup.

Only it isn't. I'm totally wrong in thinking that. Believing that if I just practice hard enough I can somehow clean the stains. I can't make history go away, it is impossible. It is falling into the trap of hoping that Zen or Yoga are somehow a kind of self-improvement program that will make the past not matter.

I'm missing the point. The point is to not care about the stains, not to find some way to clean the up. This wondrous, present moment is the pure wine of life. The cup holds the wine, why in hell do I care if it has stains?

On Sunday I was hanging out after the retreat, a busy time when Great Vow gets even quieter as residents head into their day off or to attend events in Portland. I happened to catch Hogen as he prepared to head into town and mentioned what I'd realized about practice. That what I'd first written him was wrong because I still cared about the stains if I was hoping practice would clean them. I told him that the whole point is for me to not care about the stains anymore.

He smiled at me, nodded and commented that the real point is that when I no longer care about the stains then the cup will clean itself.

I had to laugh to myself as he walked off, considering the aspiration to become self-cleaning pottery.


All that and a haiku for late winter!

Late winter sunshine
Inspires flowers to burst forth.
"Spring comes!" they assert.

When my Critic is Quiet

This weekend's retreat was unsurprisingly powerful and emotional. I felt very strongly supported by my Portland friends, something CK helped to remind me of by prompting some friends to send me very positive text messages on my way out to Great Vow, and by the Sangha there. Looking back at the weekend I can see the many ways the residents at Great Vow were supporting and helping me through a retreat I came to very reluctantly.

One thing I figured out that was good to learn are the times when my Critic is silent. That critical voice or sensation in my body is so often present that it feels like I am never with out it. However, when a Dharma brother from our Portland program and I agreed to talk about when it isn't there, since the conversation was shorter, he helped me to see two times when I am utterly free from this feeling.

Unsurprisingly cooking was one of those times. When I am engaged in preparing food there is no critical voice. I am merely present to the activity of my hands, the timing of the cooking, and the food I am transforming. When I serve a new dish to someone the voice comes back, but most of the time I'm pretty confident that what I've prepared will be delicious.

I also realized that when I teach yoga there is no Critic. Even if I am anxious or terribly upset right up until the very moment I begin a class, once I start to teach the voice goes away and I am present and alert. When I transmit the Lineage of Yoga there is no space for the Inner Critic. None.

It was good to connect with these two times when I am clear and free of my Inner Critic. Now I'm wondering when else it is gone!

Transforming the Inner Critic

In a few minutes I'm headed out to Great Vow for the weekend for the Transforming the Inner Critic workshop. People have assumed I've already done this workshop, but the truth is I've avoided it like a plague. I'm really very anxious.

It isn't helped that I made a rather big decision today about my life. It is a positive decision and for the best, but like any big decision it brings up a lot of worry. It really fires up the Inner Critic.

So off to engage my Inner Critic in the safe environs of Great Vow Zen Monastery. I dread crying. I already know I will be. I hate crying in front of people and I feel like I do it all the time at Great Vow if there is any kind of overnight stay involved. My therapist said she thinks I should try and come back having attained some compromise with my Inner Critic where I'm allowed to feel OK when crying.

Have my pictures packed and silly Buddha ATC someone sent me (bling-tastic, hilarious). I have snacks and CK made cookies last night. I even packed up some supplies for making some art myself. Ready as I'll ever be for this retreat.

Gratitude

Today was a pretty rich day. On one hand it was somewhat frazzled feeling. It also had these amazing moments in them to remind me to be grateful for and appreciate my life.

This morning I received deep reminder about how grateful I am for my ability to make wise, compassionate choices in my life, particularly in choosing to be vegan. The world is full of people who have very few choices, particularly about what food they it. If they eat. Those people are as far away as the other side of the world and as near as your neighborhood.

I dished up a very nice salad, made from vegetables donated by local markets, for people at Blanchet House, a shelter downtown. This is the second time my team at work has done this, volunteering to help serve meals at lunch, and I was struck again at my good fortune.

I am in my own home, in good health, employed, share my life with a loving partner, have sufficient income to pay my bills, travel, and choose what I want to eat. This connection today to people who are depending upon benefits for food and find that they run out of what they do get too quickly, or people who are homeless - people for whom these meals are a lifeline, they get what is served to everyone. Like oryoki, the people there might not choose to eat all that is served, but everyone is served the same food.

Several times throughout the day, especially when back at my desk eating my meal of steamed broccoli, grilled tofu, steamed buns & salad, how grateful I am. How precious it is to choose what to eat. It feels to me that it is so very precious a gift that it cannot be squandered on food that comes from the suffering of other sentient beings.

Cooking miso, udon soup for us for dinner was a joy. Making food often is joyful or grounding, or both. It is very meditative for me and tonight it was such a gift. To touch the vegetables, the pots and pans, appreciate the aroma of the dashi I'd made last night and the rich tang of the locally crafted miso. Again, so precious to choose compassionately.

Later at the Dharma center I had the chance to connect with someone about sesshin practice, painful childhoods, and Zen. Another chance for me to openly talk about being hurt and thriving in spite of it. I also acknowledged the tremendously painful parts of my sesshin last April. I was open and honest about these things and once again, to my surprise, I didn't explode. In fact there was connection and more gratitude. Positive reinforcement that telling is good.

And will all that gratitude I am off to a retreat this weekend with all-around amazing Zen scholar, artist, and translator, Kaz Tanahashi. My first event at Great Vow where speaking will be allowed and there will be art! Lessons in Zen calligraphy for the next three days. Another precious gift in my life.

Hungry Ghosts

Today CK and I checked out the Letterpress Printer's Fair this morning. It was a lot of fun and great to see a huge crowd of printing enthusiasts of ages there. I picked up a pack of awesome recipe cards which might be fun for giving away recipes to friends (some read, "Yum!" and others, "Eat me"). We both got to use an old press. CK carefully kept her piece untouched and I forgot so the ink got a bit smeary on mine.

Some lunch was had at Por Que No on Mississippi before we packed up the cookies CK had made and headed off to Great Vow Zen Monastery for the Jizo-Bon festival. Neither of us had been before and were looking forward to it a lot.

We made prayer flags and hung them in the Jizo garden. CK added a little drawing of Atari on the flag she made. I did a large tree in the center of Jizo's stamped all around the edges with the words, "May all beings be at ease."

I also painted a lantern by drizzling blue and orange paint onto it.

We enjoyed a great dinner (a tofu, veggie miso stew), formal tea ceremony (with some of the most delicious matcha I've ever had), listened to traditional flute music (shakuhachi), watched a very silly & charming puppet show, and then we sung as we walked through the Jizo garden with our lanterns.

Calling all you hungry hearts
Every where, in every time.
You who hunger, you who thirst
I offer you this Bodhi mind.

Out in the garden several of the monastery residents were playing the part of the "Hungry Ghosts". The wore dark costumes, capes, masks, had painted faces and some wigs of Crazy Hair on. They howled and sobbed from the woods. As we entered the garden we laughed in response to the silliness as well as the eerie quality of their wailing.

I felt tears spring to my eyes at more than one point as we made our way along the path. I recalled the weight of grief people leave in the garden during the Jizo ceremonies for those who have died, especially children. My own tokens for my step-dad and father, which by now have become part of the garden, and my cats, which still sparkle in the trees, are in this garden. When we came to the big tree, near to the Jizo that represents the childhood I was denied, we gathered around and enticed the "ghosts" to join us

We feed them popcorn as a representation of the spiritual food that can truly sustain us. Again, a mix of grief and hilarity. Shivers of memories coming up while watching Hogen dump popcorn out of an enormous bowl onto the head of a "ghost" howling in the leaves at his feet.

We coaxed the "ghosts" to join us in the zendo for the Ksitigarbha (the Indian name for Jizo) ceremony. Some of us taking a "ghost" by the hand to encourage them in, comfort them. The ghosts continued to shake, occasionally cry out and some tried hiding beneath the cushions. Eventually they settled. When the ceremony was over we went outside and set of some fireworks.

I commented to others afterward that watching the "ghosts" in the zendo was like seeing what my mind goes through in sesshin. The howling, crying, and desire to flee, or hide beneath the cushions, before eventually settling is what my mind processes through in one day, one sitting period sometimes, during retreat practice.

Appreciation

The 2007 Fall Ango Zen Community of Oregon reflected upon a teisho from my teachers' teacher, Maezumi Roshi. The particular teaching we studied was entitled, "Close the Gap Between Yourself and Yourself". Hogen suggested that I really look at how to cultivate pride and appreciation for my accomplishments.

It struck me as "pretty un-Zen" at the time. When I talked with GM about it during that Ango she said she wasn't surprised I didn't get it. One of the things she notes is an area that could use some improvement is my ability to really appreciate my accomplishments. I downplay my achievements all the time.

Really most of the time it doesn't feel like I'm doing anything extraordinary. It just feels like I'm chugging along, humming & drumming through each moment.

So I struggled with this topic and a few weeks into Ango I went back to Hogen and asked for help. It struck me as somewhat comical that I was asking my Zen teacher just how one goes about cultivating pride. He suggested that I consider the task of digging a 100 foot ditch, irrigation or some such thing. He said that when one is digging a really big ditch it is necessary to turn around after the first 5 feet and recognize the effort that has gone into that work. Not to just keep feeling overwhelmed by the 95 feet yet to be dug.

Uh-huh.

GW agreed that I spend most of my time worrying about the other 95 feet. CK, after she got to know me weighed in with her agreement of this assessment.

This spring for some reason I'm finally starting to get it. In most things in my life I've been a quick learner, adapting with speed to new things. Sometimes Zen makes me feel like a rather poky student.

My doctor, the same physician I've had for over 15 years, called me "skinny" when he saw me last month. He checked out my blood pressure & pulse statistics, shook his head and smiled. Maybe it is that his reactions are so candid, so human that it is finally sinking in that my weight loss is something unusual. There have also been friends and teachers who have been telling me again and again that the changes I've made in my life, have maintained in my life, are unique.

This takes me to the berry patch at Great Vow Zen Monastery. Last week at sesshin my work duty was out in the gardens. In particular, the berry patch where another retreatant and I had been asked to remove pepper cress. There was a lot of pepper cress, it is very successful at sending seeds spraying out in all directions. It seemed like an enormous task.

The first work period I just sat down at the far corner and started pulling pepper cress. By Friday I realized I'd cleared nearly half the berry patch! I stood up looking at the ground, cleared of the invasive weed (although it is edible). I nearly started to laugh as I stood there feeling a great deal of pride in what I'd finished. On Saturday my silent partner and I finished the last 3 feet in a great flurry of weed-pulling after the clean up bell had rung. We closed the gate, laughed together merrily, and I performed a small celebratory dance, waving my 5 gallon bucket in the air. We grinned at each other and continued to chuckle while emptying our buckets before heading back in for more zazen.

I still feel a little uncomfortable with this new sensation. But I can feel the way pride is good. That it is OK to look at something I finished and really let myself feel the accomplishment, the appreciation.

is this thing on?

Uh, yeah, busy.

I've been reminded of my blog silence so here is something paltry to answer that silence.

There are boxes everywhere making what is left of the living room feel particularly cozy.

There is no longer an enormous fridge in the dining room. It has been moved to the garage, soon to appear on a CraigsList near you. I emptied piles of scary "once food" into the compost pile yesterday. This would appear to by "my" job since the site of decaying food makes CK flee the vicinity.

This also means you can once again appreciate the lovely arch between the living and dining rooms. I am very happy about this and ate my dinner on the floor last night in the space the old fridge once took up. Just because I could.

AM still has some loose ends to tie up. A pattern he and I have known in our relationship for a quite a long time. At least by stepping in to make sure I'm address my own anxiety around this alleviates some of those fears and regrets. Just making the effort to keep things moving and rolling up my sleeves (sometimes literally) to get the work done feels something like progress even amidst the chaos. It is an interesting challenge to my practice which makes me think about things much more carefully than I would have before in my life.

I went to sesshin last week. It was very, very hard. At times it was the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. It was also beautiful, worthy and rewarding. I actually reached the "glad I went" stage pretty quickly from the "I'm glad I'm done" stage. I've already moved onto looking forward to August's sesshin, 'Grasses, Trees, and the Entire Earth'. There is a lot to process and write about on this, but the moving madness must take priority.

Walking Meditation

This arose out of a comment made by one of the Zen priests in my community during kinhin, or walking meditation, last night at the Dharma Center. He remarked upon the deliciousness of the sounds of kinhin in the zendo. Later that night CK remarked that kinhin at the Monastery, with the beautiful bamboo floors, that it sounds like a heartbeat.

And thus haiku arrises...

The sounds of kinhin --
Footsteps moving in rhythm.
The zendo's heartbeat.

Grateful

It has been a full week.  I have been reflecting upon the past several years a lot this week, which is only to be expected.  The 24th was my seventh marriage anniversary and we celebrated it by hanging out at home and discussing our impending divorce.  AM has been so open, understanding and supporting of wanting me to be who I really am.  It has provided space for him to be honest about his feelings of disappointment, dissatisfaction in our relationship.  It has been sad in that regard, mostly because it is painful to change even when it is for the better.

I have been nursing a persistent ache in my left shoulder.  It occurred to CK and I last weekend that it is the arm I injured last spring, playing on the swings.  I'd went to jump off and caught a finger in the chain, wrenching the entire arm and shoulder.  I've taken most of the week off of doing yoga, especially anything weight bearing on my arms.  I'm icing the shoulder, which helps it. After teaching my beginning asana class today I find my lower back and hips ache; they have not appreciated the break.

I've been able to spend the past two days with CK, reconnecting after her being visiting home for the week.  While she was away I was aware of the ways in which she has become part of my life; the ways in which I felt her absence from the space in my life.  I found myself feeling anxious about my age, about my physical pain.  I've been aware the past week how often I feel so young, but I'm aware of the aging of my body and afraid I won't be able to be a good partner to CK.  Last night this fear bubbled out of me as I lay next to her.  Through her feeling ill from a terrible headache she offered reassurance and understanding.

She's across the room from me reading right now.  We've spent the day in close company.  It is easier to feel open around her now.  I'm starting to feel like I can relax into the spaciousness, the connection between us.  It is this constant back and forth still -- I feel myself pull away, resist trusting this love, and then remind myself again and again that it is OK.  

CB asked us all at dinner at Great Vow Zen Monastery on Thursday what we were grateful for.  I first noted how much Great Vow means to me, what a refuge it is in my life and how cared for I feel when I am there.  I also said how grateful I am for the people in my life who are open and compassionate to me, who encourage my growth and support me.

AM who is supporting me by wanting us to get divorced so we can both more wholeheartedly pursue who we really are.  It is strange in a way to call this support, but it feels that way.  He isn't calling me names or bad mouthing me, like my ex-husband of nearly 9 years ago does.  Instead he is trying to find a way to make sure everyone knows that we're doing this because we need to, that it will improve our friendship ultimately.

CK who wants to support my teaching yoga, being a freelance project manager and analyst so I have the time to do workshops.  Who likes to snuggle up with me and talk about raising children together; something that moves me to tears and fills me with such abiding wonder.  She expends energy on being observant, very thoughtful, and encouraging me to be silly.  With her I feel as though several truths have finally been revealed and I understand myself more deeply.

A little autumn haiku

What my mind came up with when I was trying to settle it into the silence of zazen at Great Vow Zen Monastery on Sunday, November 9, 2008.

Geese flying overhead.
Wild messengers calling out,
"Winter comes, prepare!"

Festivals, Evangelicals, gardens, and Mom thoughts

I've had such a nice couple of days! I'm trying to allow for one day of the week where I don't get an entry down and that is fine. So far it turns out to be Saturday night. Makes sense as that night I've often had a busy day and either all of us are up late hanging or CK & I are over at her flat or out. Either way, in late and it seems far too late to try to and write too.

Yesterday we all got up. I had nodded off again and woke up at 8:30 when AM called up to me. He said he wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be able to join CK & I volunteering at the main gate of the annual Waterfront Blues Festival. A volunteer organization associated with retirees and employees of my company work together every year to process donations of money and food for the Oregon Food Bank. Since both CK & AM had expressed interest in going I suggested we all volunteer. After our stint we could enjoy the festival for a little while.

I was a little frustrated with AM who was suffering a headache he thought from sleeping downstairs on the futon, next to Bodhi's crate. CK & I had said we'd sleep over at her flat so AM could sleep upstairs, but he'd wanted us to be at the house and not driving home late after fireworks (and drunk drivers). I thought we needed to be downtown a full 30 minutes earlier than we were expected so I was feeling rather anxious as CK was still sleeping! AM ate some breakfast and felt well enough to go, CK got ready and AM discovered I was wrong on the time!

We managed to get downtown, find our group, and get dispatched to our jobs for a few hours. AM stood at the gate end dividing entrance from exit and helped security get people in through the correct gate. CK and I stood out in front of the gates handing out festival programs to people arriving. The sun wasn't out much so it was not as bright nor hot. One of the volunteers brought a bubble gun and filled the area with bubbles between trucking boxes of food from the gate to the truck.

The only thing that made for a day of practice was an older man with a younger one who were handing out pamphlets for "Jews for Jesus". A Jewish friend of mine had once told me about this group and how angry they had made her during college. She had realized that anger stayed with her beyond college and colored her impression of a lot of Christians. We'd find out later, watching the group leave in a van, that they were associated with the evangelical Apostolic Faith Church. Having that history in my background I immediately felt myself closing off to these people and watched the reaction of judgment I felt welling up in me.

The older man tried to engage both CK and I. I could feel anger rise up hot in me when I heard him say to CK that she didn't have an open mind because she wasn't willing to listen to what he had to say about Jesus. I strongly felt the urge to jump in and berate him and tell him to just shove his religion. After some moments he would try to engage me. My telling him I practiced Zen gave him just a pause before launched into my listening to the way of Christ. I tried to just breathe through my desire to tell him I'd tried that way and found it overrun with unethical men. I finally turned to the approaching festival-goers and told him that my job was to be handing out programs. He didn't try to engage CK and I much after that. AM would later note how he too had been fighting the desire

Later I would over hear him telling the younger man how he had to push past the resistance people put up. How to just make people take the flier. How to ignore what people were saying about having a faith and insist they listen to this evangelical message. How to get in front of CK and I so people would think they were getting programs, just get the fliers into peoples hands. "You've just got to do it anyway, just get in there and make them listen." I would hear him say.

When I talked about it later with CK about how angry and judging I was. How I tried to be compassionate in frankly turning my back on that man. Perhaps turning my back to him and focusing on the task assigned to me was the most compassionate act since it took away the danger of my engaging further, possibly vocalizing my anger. Compassion is the key here; CK noted that what was lacking in the way this man engaged people. She actually had a copy of the flier they were giving out; rather poorly drawn and some message about a truly "cultured" person was following the path of Christ. I found the flier to be very disingenuous.

What's strange is that when I try very hard to think from that man's perspective I wonder if he does people he's being compassionate. That he believes we're all going to go to Hell and by forcing us to Jesus, "Saving" us, he is doing an act of love. I just don't think any way that tries to use what I see as unethical methods to be a real act of faith. At times I feel like the evangelical Christians are using a "quantity" approach and the "quality", the true cultivation of deep faith, isn't as important.

We all would reflect on how the way in which Zen makes Dharma available, but does not take a stand on most topics, does not proselytize is something that attracts all of us. There is such deep, deep truth in this. Each person must find a Way. If they are forced, coerced, or done through a less-than-clear message than how can the Way be true?

We were all relieved when they finally left the festival gate.

After our stint we strolled around having some food (not truly worth reviewing) and beer. Listened to some music and enjoyed each other's company. Afterwards AM dropped both CK and I over at her flat. We should have made dinner. I'd eaten very little during the day, especially not much protein. We ended up doing other things instead and then dozed off. CK had said just before falling asleep that she felt weird -- somewhat of a code that some memory or emotion may have triggered.

I had tried to stay awake. I dozed off myself after seeing that she had taken her arm off her face and was sleeping. I woke up a little while later feeling disoriented as I very rarely nap and a nagging feeling of unease hit me. I tried to get up to check the fridge, sort out stuff that had been tossed aside, and felt rather unwell. CK awoke and saw that I wasn't feeling well. She assured me that she was fine, just over tired and drowsy from having beer.

We soon realized our respective blood sugar levels was crashing! Neither of us are diabetic or hypoglycemic, but following a fairly healthy vegan diet means that our blood sugar does drop pretty low. Both of us tend to not like the idea of eating when it gets pretty low, which isn't very helpful when all you need to do is eat! We tried to get together enough to go eat something but couldn't think it through very well. I finally said I was making tofu sandwiches, since all the ingredients were on had. We ultimately got to making salads topped with grilled tofu. Once we sat down and ate we were feeling better. We listened to a recent This American Life and a story from David Sedaris' newest book. Then ended up crawling into bed and falling hard asleep.

We were able to sleep in a little bit this morning, I finally got up a little after 10AM to shower. CK made me toast and a smoothie (which I usually have a little of to go with my toast). Then we went to my yoga class. She is going to take it this summer along with trying to go with me to Joy's class on Wednesday's. Afterward we went to my house and picked up AM. After lunch and shopping we worked in the garden. AM & CK worked on stripping the lawn out of the third raised bed and I worked on getting all the tomatoes caged, sprayed down the cucumber & summer squash with a neem solution, and did a little weeding & dead-heading.

DW came over and hung out with us. We made some tofu burgers for dinner and sundaes for dessert. DW really liked the shirt I picked up for her at Paranada while on vacation. She told us about the plans she's making to travel cross country for a while. I thought how I never had the chance to travel like that when I was young. I immediately had students loans after getting out of college, very large ones. I was rushed off to college right after high school. I paid for all my books, took out loans, and was generally broke. My parents didn't help at all except for a little bit of money once in a while. My mom also had a real insistence that if I lived with them at all I follow her rules; I cannot even imagine her ever supporting me in just taking off from the "real world" to travel around the countryside taking odd jobs!

Some strange odd things about Mom popping up this week. The memory of her trashing my room, sometimes just because I didn't fold clothing in my dresser drawers the way she insisted. Or that I just shoved stuff into the drawers, even if they closed completely and the mess inside wasn't seen. She'd just dump everything all over my bed and across the room. Emptying drawers, the closet, clearing things off of dresser tops.

It popped into my mind while making the bed at CK's flat. She had once commented on how I almost always make the bed. It made me laugh to think of this thing I do now, not over done, just really neatening the bedding, was such a war ground with my Mom. Then tonight thinking of the way she tried to point me, direct me always. I really would never have gotten support to leave and had I left she'd have told me I couldn't come back. She practically forced me out of the house when I started dating Anthony, even though I wasn't ready to live with someone. If I hadn't been pushed out I'd likely have never married him, then divorced.

Fireworks and Thumbprint Cookies

I'm finally getting to my post for the 4th on the fifth since just now the house is settling down.

Attempted the chocolate thumbprint cookies from Vegan with a Vengeance and found that the recipe didn't really work the way it was described in the cookbook; luckily I've done a bit of baking. I opted to put the very batter-like cookie dough into mini-cupcake paper liners and I ended up with something that was rather like a brownie. CK doesn't care much for jam and there are strawberries & cherries in season, so I put a few chocolate chips in each "thumbprint" and then pressed either a half berry or cherry in each brownie/cookie. They looked lovely and tasted delicious. Unfortunately we forgot to take a photograph of them, although we did discuss that we should take pictures of the dishes I make.

So running late I made it over to CK's and she did the driving out the Clatskanie. We listened to Gigi, Mimi at Dalo's was playing her when we had dinner on Wednesday after yoga, and then some of David Sedaris' new book. We got out the Great Vow just before meal chanting began and enjoyed the afternoon there very much. We ate lots of food, walked around the property, played mancala, talked to people, and then made our way back home.