All of a Sudden

It is spring....in full form.

last weekend it was snow flurries and chilly....

tonight, when I got home an hour ago, it was 58F, and right this moment the little weather bug says 62F.

I do not have a clue why it feels so shocking...it happens every year. But I am sitting here at almost 10 pm CST, enjoying the open window and the temperature rising.

The rain is on its way...a big storm moving towards us. Yes, it is spring. Finally

so quiet in blogland

Its been a long time since everyone i read has been so silent.
i wonder what's up.
blogger isn't broken, as far as i know.
maybe its sun flares?

verrrrrry, verrrrrrry interesting!

What is it they learn in college these days?

This week I had the opportunity to speak to about 150 college psychology students.

This is a standing gig with the university, we go in with a panel of queer folk and speak to the students. This was the second year I volunteered to sit on the panels. It was an interesting day. I shared my story and answered questions for 7 different classes. The questions were few and far between, mostly asked by the girls, but there were a few guys who were open enough to ask some really good questions.

My primary observation is that college students aren't really aware of the world around them, and are still very dependent on the information given them by their parents.

I remember the days when going off to college meant that learning would continue on lots of different levels, not just school, but the world. I am not sure when it changed, but kids do not challenge the status quo anymore.

i am not at all sure i like that.

Prom Queen

Once again the Saturday morning viewing experience has me in tears.

I turned on the LOGO channel, and the story of the Canadian boy who wanted to go to the prom with his boyfriend was showing. He happened to be going to a catholic high school. It was a good movie. Its a good story, and the strength of the young man, his friends and family, brought me to tears. Yes, they went to court and yes they won the case. And unfortunately for us in the states, the whole thing took place in Canada. I am afraid that if that happened here, it would get shot down right now.

I love the LOGO channel.

How do you identify?

Seems like this question just keeps going round and round.

Sometimes its called the name game, sometimes its about labels. But its really all the same. Should we, and how should we.
Sigh.
I wish we didn't have to label ourselves and each other...but then what fun would life be? How would we find people who think the same way about some things when we wanted to?

But it's just not an exact science, this naming, labeling, identifying thing.

I am always Cris. sometimes I use my more formal given name. and there are times when I rattle off all the parts of my name. But my name is not descriptive, and it doesn't help me find people who are like me.

How many people are like me? Not many. But how many people are like a part of me.....depends on what part.

I am done trying to figure out which part of me people want to deal with. I would just rather list them all off, like tags on a blog posting, and let people find me.

maybe there is a way to make a tag cloud picture of ME.

I am:
a mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, partner, consultant, volunteer, organizer, lesbian, womon, dyke, queer, woman, crafter, reader, jewelry maker, knitter, stamper, crocheter, mac addict, tree hugger, parent, activist, chair, co-chair, secretary, board member, coordinator, diabetic, desktop publisher, cook, caterer, sad, happy, depressed, jubilant, i am part of the LGBT community, i love all kinds of music, all kinds of books, sappy movies, i want to travel some day; in everything i do, i teach; i love fall, i love to swim. . . . .

and more, and more and more.

those things above are part of me. I would be hard pressed to say that any one of them individually defines me, describes me or is me.
But they are all a part of who I am.

What a weekend!

To say I am tired is an understatement....its been a long weekend.

Friday was Lesbian Game Night. Sometimes it is a chore to go back out and sit with who ever shows up, and play what ever kind of game they want to play. This evening was much that way, with a few moments of fun tucked away....like the young womon who has a mini-chicken for a pet, and her stories about the killer ball of fluff.

Saturday began a bit rocky. Plans for the weekend had changed a couple of times during the week...as always, and the final determination was that after coordinating and carrying out a benefit for the Pride Weekend, I was hosting a brunch for the entertainer. So needless to say Saturday was going to be a busy one. It became doubly busy when the morning errands doubled as we got into the car. Now, any one who knows me, will tell you I can be the most flexible person....AND the most inflexible one as well. When I am planning events, I get to a point where I have everything scheduled down to the minute. You can throw changes at me up to that point and I will work them in (or just say NO if they are outrageous).....but once i have pathed it out, I get really bent out of shape about the “oh I forgot to tell you”. So two hours off schedule, I scrambled and cut and cooked, and tried to find something to wear (the biggest issue of all).

If you have not ever seen Vickie Shaw, I can not recommend her...much. The womon is the funniest person on the planet. I have very particular tastes in comedy. I do not get a lot of comedy, and most of the rest i just don't find funny; even when I do enjoy the comedy, I rarely laugh out loud, a chuckle, or giggle are the most you will usually hear out of me.
A few years ago we happened to be at a local music festival. It was a baaaaad weekend, and moods were in the pits. We decided to stay for just one more performer. I was not thrilled about a comedian.....well I have to tell you, I almost fell off my chair -- more than once. Last night was more of the same. Whether its on a stage doing her thing, the bar after the show, or sitting in my livingroom, this womon is funny. We laughed our selves silly. If you get a chance, check her out. If she is ever in driving distance, its worth the price of admission.

The show went off smooth as silk. A few of us sat down in the hotel bar with Vickie till way too late winding down with her (her partner had to work, so could not be here). Then went home and finished off all that I could do before the brunch and finally crashed.

Sunday was filled to the brim with activity. Wake up, get all the last details ready for the brunch, relax a bit before Vickie and other guests got there. Eat, laugh, eat some more, laugh some more and then Vickie and the others left. There was to be a short respite before a birthday dinner out, and then L Word with the Power Lesbians. Thank the powers that be, the dinner was postponed. L Word with the Power Dykes was ..... interesting.
The L Word was powerful. Sleep didn't come fast enough, or last long enough.

But it was a good weekend. I just wish my snap back abilities were not so terrible these days.

reactions to stress....

the human mind and body are a fascinating study....we all react to life altering stress in our own ways. Some of us just absorb it, showing symptoms here and there, shutting down for periods of time to regroup. Some have major reactions that include depression, and a host of other mental health issues. Some simply bury all reactions, and some also manifest physical reactions.

A gentleman I met during the early cleanups from the August 2005 tornado locally, really had a hard time of things. An older gent, (in his 80's i believe) he had a pretty tough time of it. Seems he was just finished building his home, had been through a few different contractors, a few disagreements, and a few legal issues around the house. Just days before the tornado hit, he began to move his precious antiques into the home.
His home was one of the totally destroyed ones. In the very early cleanup days, he refused all help at cleanup. There were legal issues, he said, and he wanted to salvage as much as he could. It was a very complex situation. He ended up in court, fast tracked because of the disaster, and was found responsible, but unfortunately, not until he was finally cited for the danger his totally uncleaned up property had become in a neighborhood of people working hard to recover.

There were so many different reactions to this whole thing. My girlfriend who had been on the edges of the initial disaster, but in the thick of the immediate post disaster process, was tough on him...she looked at the outside. Laws are made for everyone, he didn't follow the law (even given the loose interpretation for survivors), he maintained a hazard, talked circles around the truth as documented, and simply did nothing until forced. On the other end of the spectrum, a new friend (made in this crisis) reached a hand out to the man, offered him as much as she had at her fingertips, unstintingly (she is a gem). I fit in the middle somewhere, not exactly able to see the man in such a clear and clinical light, but also aware that he had played the system some.

And why all the details....I just found out the old gent has been diagnosed with cancer. Another possible stress response. I feel bad for him. I do not think that I would have responded any differently to him had i known this would be his end, but I do feel an additional level of sadness.
and a morbid curiosity....

What kinds of stress reactions do you have?

Lobster Day

I should probably just call it that. Once a year, in honor of my birthday (but rarely on my birthday) I get treated to a lobster tail dinner in the comfort of my own home.

A glass of white wine, simple salad, baked potato, biscuit with cheese and garlic, sweet tender lobster (tail meat only) and butter....lots of butter. This year the meal concluded with a double chocolate brownie, and snifter of Grand Marnier.

I love fancy foods and lots of different flavors, but lobster is one of those things that you just don't mess with. I do not think i would ever eat lobster where it is a secondary flavor.

mmmmmmmm

I finally got to see Rent too.

Happy Lobster Day to me.

China patterns and memories

I have finally gotten to the point of putting my great grandmother's china into the china cabinet. In doing so, I decided to see if I could find something out about the pattern. Not an easy task, let me tell you.

Doing this kind of research is new to me. I have never had the inclination to collect or do the antique thing, so looking up info about the dishes was a new experience for me. I know enough to know that the markings on the back are the place to start in terms of info. So, i began a simple google search. After a couple of hours of dead ends, I was finally able to determine the name of the pattern, that the company that made it was bought out in 1987. I can not find any more info about the company itself nor any more information about the pattern other than it is not made anymore, and might have been made in the 1930's.

I am guessing that the research of this kind of thing is more geared to books and libraries still. But its frustrating. I have gotten spoiled by the internet, being able to look just about anything up and find answers.

The china needs to fit into a cabinet that holds 2 other sets of china, plus all the glassware from two other family estates. This set is the only one with heart attached.

My great grandmother was special. An old farm woman, even when I was a small child, the memories of her are of strength and love. I always felt I belonged there. More so than at either grandparents...this was home. It was an old victorian home with a cellar, a big front porch, the front of the house had the parlor and the dining room, the back of the house had the kitchen, bath room, and grandma's room. Upstairs was where the bedrooms were, and treasures abounded in the seldom used rooms. We slept in a big bed, my sister and I, on a “feather tick”, in rooms that were not heated, in the midwest in the winter. Coming down stairs, you had to jump over the big heat vent in the floor (placed strategically at the bottom of the stairs) and then quick close the door to the stairs or the cold would invade the house.

I have so many snippets of memories, my great grandmother died when i was 15. I remember her big porch swing, and hours spent playing in the swing in the summer, and on the porch. I can picture the whole house vividly. I remember a few big family dinners and being too little to help, but more i remember the times when there weren't a lot of other people there. The neighbor kids with their cocker spaniel, grandma's teeth in the glass on the kitchen sink, making mashed potatoes from a box taste good. I can go way back in my memories and I think i remember my great grandfather, but i was only 3 or 4 when he died, so the memories might be more of what I was told, stories I heard. His rocking chair is in my living room.

The china was brought out for those few big family dinners I remember. My mother always said that when grandma was gone the china would be hers as promised, she was the first grandchild. And as the first great grandchild, I just assumed that they would come to me as well. Once, my aunt (only 5 years older than I) got a wild notion that since she was a grand daughter, she had more right to the dishes than I. Ha. My only recollection of my aunt and great grandmother is remembering how angry my aunt was at the invasion of her home when grandma came to live with them while she was ill.

I remember when great grandma began to fail, the discussions, the caretakers, the difficult times. But most of all I remember the tall, gentle, strong woman. I remember the feeling of safety and love. That was all i needed, all i need now. That's what the dishes bring back. My mother bringing the dishes to me for Christmas this year was a great gift.

I am looking forward to the next time I can use them.

comments and traffic and other random thoughts

sometimes this blog thing has me completely confused.

I love the opportunity to write, and find myself uniquely focused on the traffic and comments and other responses. When I began to blog, it was just an outlet for thoughts and feelings. but more and more, i wonder what it is that brings the traffic to the site, and what it is that makes people comment.

I do not have a blog community as some do. I look at some blogs and see that the same people comment regularly, and they have real connections between the people. I do not know if the connections came first and the blog is just an additional way of maintaining friendships or if people have gotten to know each other through the words of the blogs and the resultant communication through comments.

I often wish that the comments function sent a reply to the commenter. Very often I will make a comment on someone's blog and never realize that they have responded back in their own comments (it somehow seems like reading someone else's mail to go back into the comments).

my life often seems mundane and my expression of it.....less than stellar, when i read the witty, sensitive, beautifully expressive posts by others. I am not sure if that is because i live a boring life, or i have poor skills in writing about it.

the whole Johari Window experiment was a resounding flop for me. 4 people responded. Now that either means that few people have gotten to know me via this blog, or few people were interested in expressing an opinion or....what? I am not sure.

well, it is time to step out of the abstract and get on with my day. enough reflection for the moment.

The Rainbow Connection

Yesterday I wrote my child a letter, telling her some pretty harsh realities. The truth as I see it.

Her response has been resoundingly silent, but this is normal for her. I have not heard from her, gotten a response from her in almost a month. When she is “off”, she rarely makes that connection with me.

I adore my child, and when she is “on”, she is a good friend, a loving mother and a caring child.

My child is in serious trouble and refuses to acknowledge it or get help, But she is also beyond the point in her life where I have any influence on her decision making.

Parenting sux sometimes. We have all these dreams and wishes and hopes, and only a few short years to affect the possibilities.
I wanted happy, strong, independent children. I tried to model this for them.

My eldest grew up deciding he had the skills to do what ever he wanted, and ignored the fact that everyone has to pay their dues. His anger was with the things we didn't have, and he decided that being a grown up wasn't for him. He has 4 children. 1 will never know him, 2 have been taught to hate him (and he did nothing to convince them differently) and one precious little bit who adores her daddy as he adores her. He just moved across the country. He does not use his considerable skills as an artist. He is working in construction. We havent heard from in 3 months.

The youngest believed too that rules were not made from him. I expected he would hit Wall Street and have his million made by age 25. The lure of the party caught him young tho. 3 months before HS graduation he opted to leave home rather than follow basic rules (the law being the most basic). Then he found the lure of the party to be his undoing. He has one son that no one (including him) has seen in years, and works on the coast doing collections. He is very good at it, but still hasn't settled down.

The middle child, my sweet little girl. So easy, a bit high maintenance as a half-pint, but within reason. so focused, until.....
A bad relationship, and right into another, and when that didnt work, it was one after the other. I tried to get her to take a break from relationships and focus on herself, but that wasnt in her plans. she wanted a man to take care of her. My feminist....and yet she was...
she was the activist of them all (the boys talked a good game but follow through was lacking). But a man to take care of her. The one time she took on the guy who might have been her peer, that was the one that hurt her the most...he had plans, and they weren't the same as hers. The successors have all been no match for her. She moved out when we said she could not sleep with one in our house. They married eventually (still living in his parents basement....where he still is) the only valuable thing out of that union was a beautiful little baby girl (and a 3 year estrangement on our side). When she moved home again with the baby, it turned out to be another three years and countless numbers of inappropriate men. We questioned her mental stability....wondered if she might be bi-polar. And we still do.

I am the parent that does the hard stuff. Her father is the one who is so afraid he will lose favor that he gives what ever he is asked, I am the one who has always had to be the tough one, the honest one. So when she asked me to write her a letter, expounding on things that are not the “whole truth”, I could not do it. I finally did write the letter, but it was about the truth. Hard to write, harder yet to send. She has not yet acknowledged it to me, but through friends who know I really do care, I have learned that she has sent it around telling people “my mother hates me”.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard
and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors.
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

The dinner party

On the menu, after much searching and reading and agonizing.

Tikalo Alba Liza Tinto 2004 - "... a blend of 65% Tempranillo and 35% Grenache. Its deep rub/purple color is accompanied by ripe, sweet notes of black cherries, licorice, and wild mountain berry fruit. This medium to full-bodied Tinto exhibits notions of pepper and spice along with fine purity, surprising glycerin, and plenty of heart, soul, and quality for the price." (a red wine I quite enjoyed)

Falutas - Jalisco style - little rolled corn tortilla filled with a mashed potato and mexican cheese filling and fried, served with red and green sauces.

Pico di Gallo - a salad with jicama (replaced by sunchoke due to lack of jicama), onion, cucumber and oranges.

Chicken Naranja - Chicken in an orange sauce

Judias Verdes Con Salsa De Tomate - green beans with garlic and tomato sauce

Frijoles De Olla: beans In Their Own Broth - black beans with seasoning

Rice - plain and simple white pearl rice

and Flan for dessert

Pretty easy all around. The flan was made last night....and chills in the fridge. Beans are soaking, salad bits are chopped and ready to assemble.

I am about to assemble the flauta, and the rest will assemble closer to the evening.

Not bad for a homestyle cook.....I am not trying to compete, but it sure is fun to put myself to the test.
Now....off to set the table.

it's been

A week.

I haven't had much time to blog, although I have a half dozen posts in progress (i get an idea, and start, but the time to finish is not there) but still haven't got the time to finish them.

It has not been the greatest of weeks...the nagging bug that won't settle but does not take me down. computer/internet funkiness, and lots of other details and issues weighing. I do not like weeks like this...they make me feel disconnected from myself.

let's hope for a better week coming.

I am in “Down Under” heaven!!

A few years ago I had the opportunity of a lifetime. A trip to New Zealand. 3 weeks in an extraordinary place, met some on-line friends, tried new foods, saw new sights, and with out a doubt had the best time of our lives. there were a few glitches, but they don't hold a candle to the wonderful experiences we had there.

One of the things I tried there was a breakfast I fell in love with, and have yet to be able to duplicate here....that is, until today. Right now I am eating muesli and yogurt! MMMMMMMMMMMM.

Here in the states it is possible to get muesli, but most of what is called muesli lacks much. Yesterday I found one that has all the requisite seeds, nuts, fruits and grains (mostly oats)...and its soft, not crunchy. AND then for the most difficult of all...the yogurt. Now, you have to know, I love yogurt, american yogurt is thick, sweet, full of fruits sometimes, and usually more pudding like than not. When our hostess in NZ offered us options for breakfast we said “what ever you are having”. She got out the muesli (i love granola) and the milk carton....but it said yogurt on the outside. I didn't question that because I know there are many things in the southern hemisphere that have the same names we use but are different, and vice versa, so I was just open to the experience. I poured out my cereal, and waited for her to use the milk and pass it. Imagine my surprise when something thick plopped out. It surely was NOT milk for my cereal. Turns out it is pourable yogurt. So i gave it a try....and fell in love. (along with a lot of things in that country, the food is FANTASTIC)

Fast forward to home. Trying to recapture the essence of NZ here in the Midwest is not an easy thing to do. I found muesli....not the right mix, always something missing. The thing that was most troublesome was the yogurt tho. Ours is too sweet, too gelatinous to pour. BUT yesterday in the hunt for the right ingredients for “the meal”, i came upon something labeled Wallaby Yogurt, and thought i would give it a try.

Well I am telling you, IT WORKED. and I am once again remembering NZ in March.....wait a minute...were were we this day...Christchurch? or Nelson, or heading to Hokitika for the Wild Food Fest....going through Arthur's Pass, Hanmer Springs, or Akaroa...........