Vital to the Core

"Anyone who imagines they can work alone winds up surrounded by nothing but rivals, without companions. The fact is, no one ascends alone." Lance Armstrong

Meeting March

March 21 is his birthday.

March, who was named after his birthday month;

March, who was born in a stable because they didn't have cars back then;

March, who became a jockey and rode with Shoemaker.

In the early morning of my son's baptism, when the clock struck 12, I found myself at Ralphs fetching ingredients for an additional entre I decided to add for the luncheon the following day. Shopping at Ralph's at midnight is peaceful. There you are, all alone, just you, the click of your heels on the cement tile floor, the supermarket music,the checker standing sleepy eyed behind his register. Of course although I went for just two items and decided against a cart, I noticed the sale items and so my arms were heavily loaded as I approached the check stand, and this was the first time I noticed him, March, a little elf of a man in a blue hooded sweatshirt standing around 4 foot tall. His hood covered his head to protect it from the scattering rain that had been evident through out the night. He was standing at the foot of the check stand chattering happily with the checker. I unloaded groceries from my arms and asked the checker where I could find Pepperoncinis. Both Checker and hooded box boy, turned to face me with smiles on their faces as the checker motioned with his finger and told me to head to aisle 14. As I left I thought first about this older gentleman working such late hours and pondered how tough things are for people who never seem to be able to retire anymore. Although he was old and working, I was impressed with his attitude. He seemed to be happy, and why wouldn't he I guess, he had a job and they are getting harder to find, I should know.

I returned with the peppers in hand to more chattering and smiles from the supermarket duo, I surveyed the groceries and realized I had forgotten the napkins, "Where can I find napkins?" again the checker turns to me smiling to instructs me to head down aisle 6. "Thanks." I say, As I turn to find the napkins I hear a voice say, "You don't look a day older than when I first met you!" I could tell it came from the hooded man with the hump. I found that statement interesting since this is the first time that I had ever met either of them.

Upon returning to the stand the checker motions to the little hooded man hunched over and says" He says that he helped you out about 6 months ago. He has met you before." I looked over and March was smiling at me. "Really?" I replied, I don't remember him helping me before."

"Yes, I helped you with your groceries, and you don't look a day older..." Oh stop with that one liner I thought. Sheesh! They both continued to chatter as I surveyed my groceries passing over the scanner and thinking of the things I still needed to get to done. As I was about to pay, March asks "May I help you out?"

"That's okay. I have it." I never accept help from the box boys and I wasn't going to make this old gentleman go out either.

"No," he replied, "I will help you out." He seemed harmless, although a bit confused. I looked over to the checker who said, "He likes to help all the customers out." I was able to discern that March did not actually work there, but hung out there to chat with the employees and help the customers.

"Alright," I state, "thank you very much." Hunched over, he began pushing my cart of which he was barely able to see above the handle bars. A little uncomfortable, I began to make conversation, "Wow you are up late tonight."

"Oh I never sleep," March says with enthusiasm.

"You don't?" I ask surprised

"Nope" March replied definitively. How can he function on no sleep? At this time I am thinking that March needs to earn some extra money and so decide that I will tip him for his effort. On the way to the car March begins talking about the rain. "I love the rain. It blesses this world, this amazing world and blankets it in green. It is beautiful. I love to be out in the rain." I nod in agreement.

"This is my van," I say smiling, "let me unlock it and then I can load."

"No let me get those for you," March says with a sincere desire to help out.

"Thank you," I say feeling a little awkward, and then March begins to express his love for Spring.

"I love Spring. I was born in the Spring, on the first day of Spring, March 21" and this is when he introduces his name to me, "March, my name is March. I was born in a horse stable because we did not have cars then, only horses, on March 21st I was named March for that reason." I nod my head interested. "I love Spring. It is a beautiful time of the year. It is full of beauty and color, and new growth. It is a time when the earth is reborn when new babies are born, it is God's greatest season, a celebration of all his creations." I am smiling as I listen to this little man bear testimony of the earth and Gods hand in creating it. He looks up at me with his dark eyes that twinkle with the little smile wrinkles. He waves his crooked hands into the air as he joyfully describes how spring is a season of love, how the birds are mating, all the animals are mating, all the bees are pollinating to make new, to regenerate, to bring to pass new life again. He states that he is Navajo, and that his people have reverence for the earth and all that it offers. As I listen to March. I feel an immense appreciation for him and the love that seems to exude from him as he shares his feelings with me while we stand out in a misty February night.

It is at this time that a car pulls up and unrolls the window. tilting my head to look in I notice that it is an older couple that was also roaming the aisles in Ralphs. The woman, who was driving, leans over and says, "Is everything okay?" She is looking at me. I understand that she is concerned for my safety and I shake my head yes, March leans toward the couple smiling and says, "Yes, Yes, things are well, we are well, and bless you that you are well, healthy and happy on this beautiful night. Drive home safely and God Bless You." The couple look to me again, they are smiling now , we then exchange waves of good bye and they leave.

March continued to share a bit of his life with me. How he was a jockey and rode with the likes of Shoemaker and how they looked exactly alike and they often confused the sports writers. He shared his love of riding and his passion for horses. Everything he shared was done with an expression of love and gratitude.

Because it was late, because I had to get home and still start this second entre and it was past twelve-thirty, because I really shouldn't be out at that late hour, I had to cut our conversation short. I felt badly because I could tell that March enjoyed the company and I enjoyed his stories. The groceries were in the trunk and I grabbed my wallet to give March a tip. March smiled and waved his crooked hand and said, "No, no, no. I did it because I wanted to help. Here, this is all I need," and he held out his hand to shake mine.

I reached out and shook his hand and said, "Thank you." reverently smiling.

"Your welcome, and God bless you." and with that he took the handle of my cart and began pushing it back to Ralphs. I slowly backed out and began heading home feeling joyful at the opportunity to meet March and to hear his testimony, his love for his Father in Heaven and his beautiful creations. I felt lifted by all the love he expressed. I will never forget him, that little elf of a man, hunched over in a hooded sweatshirt, who looked up at me with bushy eyebrows, dark eyes and smile wrinkles.

Southern California Livin'

Yesterday my sister in law took the words right out of my mouth "You gotta love Southern California living!"

Yes!

I wholheartedly agree. I love living here. I am a native, born and raised here until 12, when my dad was transferred to Chicago, another amazing place to live by the way. But I came back as an adult, transferred again from Sacramento, only this time I was married with a child.

I had mixed emotions: excited for the chance to live by my family, my sister and brother and his family lived here, my parents had just relocated from Chicago, I loved the beach, In n Out Burger, the Hollywood Bowl, but I was frustrated with the lack of open land--the juxtaposition of city after city crammed together tight, like a jigsaw puzzle, no one knowing where one began and the other ended except for the dirty freeway sign or dusty marker on the road. I felt the "Storm Watches" on the news was, how can I put this lightly, pitiable. Please, it is sprinkling outside, and there is an anchorwoman (why do they mostly send woman out to do these stories) on the side of the freeway reporting on the great storm we are experiencing. Sorry my dear friends, southern California knows nothing about real weather. I was concerned about what southern Californians considered being the news, I am sorry but Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton are not that important to me but they seem to be in the headlines all the time as does any other celebrity and their troubles. I missed seeing open land, I wanted big back yards and small quaint houses, not big boxy houses and small back yards, I missed the feeling of small towns where you could find Mainstreet, I missed community news.

I too, like some friends I know, thought grass was greener on the other side, felt like life would be better lived else where and looked in the likes of Utah, where houses were cheaper, Montana where the skies were wider, Seattle, where the lands were were wetter, Minnesota, where the lakes are superior, No Ca, where the people are liberaler-er-er, Colorado where the forests were denser, but I have come to realize that I am a So Ca girl through and through. I belong here and will stay. Of course knowing that teachers can't really transfer from Ca or they lose there retirement helps aid the decision as well, but that is another matter entirely.


Regardless, I am happy here and happy to be here. I love that outdoor living is available all year long here. We BBQ in January-- one of my very favorite months of the year in So Ca. I love the ocean and the beaches, I love the cultural opportunities of Los Angeles--recently considered an up and coming art capital of the world--I can hear live music every day of the week if I choose, in multiple venues, I can enjoy the vast landscape that So Ca offers from the beach to the desert to the mountains and in the valleys. Oceans, streams lakes, water falls are all local and available to me, and finally the people, I love the people! All types of people from many different walks of life and many varieties of personalities, all with stories to tell and things to share. If you want a sample of the variety, one can go visit Venice Beach where, I was reminded by a young friend, "there are all kinds there" and yes there are.

One of my favorite activities which makes one think, "Nothing like Southern California Living!" is going to the ocean in the early afternoon, after sleeping in, after traffic, after lunch and staying until the sun slowly sinks her rosy self down and tucks herself into the ocean's vast rippling blanket and says goodnight. It is a glorious time of day, there is something magical about it especially near the water and even more pleasing if your in it. It brings me great joy. Yesterday was one such day.

Like Sands In The Hour Glass. . .

Time keeps ticking away. It's official. I have reached middle age. I even looked up a definition of middle age: "the time between 40 and 60 is middle age." Yep that's me, middle aged. I kind of like it. I have been known to say, "I love my 40's!" In fact I just did it today. . .

"I love my forties!" I exclaimed to my younger friend who was antiquing with me today. No response.

"No really," I say trying to feel like I have to convice her. She is looking at me through the corner of her eye, skeptically, "Yea, My forties are great!" still no response. I continue, "You know when you reach your forties," she obviously hasn't reached her forties, "you have learned that you can't please everyone, it is just impossible, and so you don't feel the need to try any more."

"That's freeing."says my younger, wrinkle free friend with a smile, attempting to validate me,

"It is really! my forties are great, I love my forties." I say with enthusiasm like some type of missionary of the aged spreading the good news.

I call them "My Forties." They have their own title and they are mine. Not like when I was in my twenties or thirties. During those decades it was strictly year by year. You were either twenty-one or twenty-two. Then, you wanted to be older. Each year meant more maturity, more experience and at the time, that was good.

Then when I reached thirty, all of a sudden, I felt an ache and a pain in my back--Like over night--at twenty-nine I fall asleep feeling fine and dandy and then the morning I wake up thirty, and I am stiff and achey, but still it is year by year: thirty-two or thirty-three.

However, when forty comes, you claim the whole decade at once. It didn't matter that I was 40 or 41, I was in my forties. I claim the whole decade as my own and I take them all in and I love them. I love them because I realize all that I have been through to get me here. I cherish every lesson and every joyful experience. I try to celebrate every moment, and realize that it is perfect just as it is, the joys and the pains, the victories and the losses, the hurdles that have been crossed safely and those that weren't, causing me to fall on my face, and cry hot, steamy tears that sting my eyes. I'm not ashamed of being forty, I am proud of it. I feel that I have finally grown up, except that I haven't. I still love to play way to much, and I am still on an eternal vacation as a friend once said back when I was 25. I have aged, yes, but like a fine wine, or a great cheese. The years have refined me, taught me, made me more appreciative of life. So I celebrate "My Forties!" and look forward to embellishing them with great memories and experiences.

Sorry folks, since I am planning on being mobile til I am forced to move on. I decided to not give any energy to me needing the aqua chair. But I do plan on having a great decade in my 50s. For sure.

Good Night Moon. . .

"In the great green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon
and a picture of a cow jumping over the moon."

I have decided


that the good night ritual


is more for me than for my kids.


Cozy, cozy,


night, night,


put away all the worries of the day,


read a book,


sing a song,


and what is most important


is right in front of you,


looking you in the eye.


Butterfly kisses


Two kisses and two hugs,


and nothing else to distract you.


I need more moments like this through out my day.

Cowboys and Indians in the 21st Century

Joshua and Owen playing cowboys and Indians.

I love pretend play. I find a child's ability to pretend to be a remarkable creative expression. I am amazed at their ability to invent scenarios and act them out. Their little worlds are so vast and open. They can become whomever or whatever they want. They can envision anything and make it come to pass in the living room or where ever they may be at the time. AWESOME!

When do we as adults loose this ability? What happens to us that we seem to get stuck in the reality of life. When do we decide that it is childish to dream and when does the dreaming stop. When do we lose the courage?

When my kids are pretend playing, I pretend, and this is about the only pretending I do anymore, that I am not listening. I don't want them to know that I am paying attention because then they get a little shy about their game.

O's and Joshua decided that they wanted to play Cowboys and Indians. I don't even know if that is a politically correct pretend scenario anymore. This is an an example of the adult world infringing upon the pretend play of children. I used to play indians when I was a kid. I loved to be an indian. My brother Rob, the yidda guy, and I made bows and arrows from branches and twigs that we found in our backyard. We had a ball. But apparently some people feel that pretending to be an indian can be offensive. I was surprised when the Claremont School District banned Thanksgiving Dinner celebrations at their schools because they felt it was offensive to people of Native American descent. There was no dressing up as Pilgrims and Indians in Claremont schools last November however, protesting parents enjoyed their turkey, stuffing, masked potatos and gravy dinners in the parking lot, outside of the schools, dressed as Pilgrims and Indians. Chalk one up for adults and pretend play.

When working out their game, Os and Joshua both agreed that they would get really tough guys on their teams and that they both would be able to fight bad guys, normal decisions when playing cowboys and indians, but then, what Owen said next, really blew me away. "Yeah, Joshua, and then on the NEXT LEVEL it will be really hard. Really tough!

What?

Next level?

Was he equating his playing cowboys and indians with a video game.

FOUL!

Alarms go off in my head. I chuckle to myself in disbelief. No way! I protest! My child's pretend play, especially connected with cowboys and indians, is not supposed to be set up like a video game.

Here Jushua pretends he has an arrow stuck in his leg. He had a whole posse trying to help him pull the offending arrow out of his leg. I finally became involved and extracted the deadly weapon from his leg.

Owen doesn't play a lot of video games, but he does play some. I am obviously not a fan of video games. Poor Mitchell had to wait until he was 8 years old before he got one and this only occured because he stopped asking for things for Christmas because he never got what he wanted anyway (a nintendo game system) He asked for 4 years before I finally caved.

I was abjectly against the parameters of Owen's pretend play. This is not allowed. Video games aren't allowed to seep their way into the innocence of my boys imagination. But then I realized that things were changing. The world is changing. Technology guarantees it. I've seen it before when I watched Owen hold up a pretend camera to take a picture, and instead of putting it up to his eye, he held it out arms length like he was seeing the picture from the LCD screen in the back of the camera.

Don't worry, I didn't intercede in the pretend play and tell him that his game can't have levels (although I don't like it one bit.) My little guys pretend world is his own. He can make it how ever and what ever he wants it to be. I accept it.

Now, how can I sabotage the X box?

Oh Solo Mio On the Sea-oh!

Once upon a time there was a yitta girl born third child to a loving family. She loved to play and loved to be active, but didn't like doing things by herself. Often this meant that she didn't do what she wanted.

Until one day, when she was 42, she decided to go kayaking in the ocean, She asked everyone she could to go with her and no one could, so she went all by herself. . .

This is the story.

Last summer we were here:

Scorpion Bay Santa Cruz Island

We did a little of this,

Little cave off pelican rock

And a little of that,

Picture by Lisa Kirtley

We ate a little of this,

Richard cooking some breakfast

Saw a little of that,

some sea caves just north of Scorpion Bay

Went a little here,

Saw a little there,

low ceiling cave north of Scorpion Bay. There was a bend in the cave and it was pitch black no more than 50 yds in. Scarey.

Threaded a needle here,

This fun little Pirates of Caribbean tunnel was the furthest North of Scorpion Bay we went. We sang Yo Ho as we paddled through it.

Traversed a tunnel there,

This was an amazing little swimmers cave that had a great bend in the middle. The only way to see your way out was to look underwater where you could see the light coming from a hole in the rock wall below the surface of the water. You swim under water and follow the light until you get past that bend and to the opposite side. Great fun. It was at the end of this same cave that Rob had a seal swim back and froth between his legs which were straddled on either side of the narrow cave. The seal came up and blew water in Rob's face.

When all was said and done, I felt like this,

This shot was taken after a full day of sea kayaking. I was in heaven.

Since that day I have been craving to go back. Some day I will, and when I do I will take my kids.

During Spring Break, when I found out my kids were going to be out of town on a special trip to visit their Auntie, I wanted to get out of the house, where I was reminded they weren't there, and do something active. My choice, sea kayaking.

After some research, I was connected with an Adventure Photographer, Daniel Woods who has a business leading Kayak tours while he photographs the experience for your family. He is an enthusiastic conversationalist, and is customer service oriented. The customer is his top priority and he wants to make sure that they have a great time. He brought up all the gear I needed, which included snorkel gear, weight belt, and scuba suits because the water that day was a c-c-c-c-cold 56 degrees.

.

Although the water was cold, the temp outside was 80 degrees, very comfortable for kayaking. The rock formations and structures were beautiful as was the coastline. We paddled about a half a mile north of down town Laguna before deciding we wanted to head back.

We set the goal to reach the twin rocks in the distance. Once we reached it we were delighted to discover that it was covered with sunbathing seals and roosting pelicans. When we paddled around the rocks, Dan wanted to shoot through the two but had to time it just right because there was some white water and waves. Dan was concerned for me, I didn't have the heart to tell him we went through narrows more rocky than this. Never the less Daniel cares a lot about safety and takes precautions to make sure everyone is safe. Below I am crossing the narrows.

On the way back, I wanted to do some snorkeling. Daniel had all the gear I needed including a hood. I was pretty sure that I didn't need the bulky and hideous hood, but he assured me I would, so I put it on begrudgingly. Once I got in the water I understood what Daniel meant. I felt a monumental brain freeze where the water hit my forehead. I was glad I listened to Free Diving Dan and put the hideous hood on.

The water visibility was only about 10 ft that day but it was still fun to swim around and catch a glimpse of some garibaldy and friends.

The lobster on the right was crawling along the bottom of the ocean. Daniel brought up for me because try as I might, I could not get down there. The neoprene was so bouyant that it kept me up, to my dismay. Dan thought it would be a good idea for me to hold the little creature. I reached over to grip it, but it knew he was in the hands of a scardey-cat chicken so as soon as I wrapped my fingers around it, the lobster bolted, It wiggled out of my hands and literally walked down my body with its spindley spider legs gripping me all the way. YIKES! I get the willies just thinking about it. I screached and grabbed onto Daniel who got a kick out of my shreik. Those little creatures are fast. I've only seen them walking along the bottom of the fish tank at Ralphs market. They don't move that fast in there with their little claws tapped shut, but in the ocean, and on my body in the ocean, they swim and move around like little olympians. Yikes.


On the way back we came across a stand up paddle boarder. Very cool, but I prefer to sit.

As we were finishing our day the sun was setting and the shadows were long. I was exhausted but very filled. I took this shot as Daniel was loading the kayaks onto the top of his car.

While watching him load, I was happy it wasn't me. I did what I could to help him, but I had just enough energy to get my body over to Wahoo's Fish Tacos for a charbroiled fish taco with black beans and rice.

The perfect ending to an exceptional day. I was glad I went, even though I was alone. I would have preferred a companion, but in the end I realized that I was okay by myself. Lesson learned.