Thursday, June 11, 2009

Reepee sails away: An Elegy for Childhood

Until this summer, my kids have lived much of their childhood in Animalville, a small rambling town located in the southeast corner of our dining room.

Animalville boasts the usual amenities found in any well appointed town: charming houses, a school, a park and playground. Sometimes there's a cafe. Sometimes a store. Many institutions have come and gone over the years as the town has evolved to meet the changing needs of its residents. The houses are mostly made of wood and each has almost endless rooms. The weather is almost always perfect. The ecomony is based on love.

The citizens here live in loyal, almost tribal, family groups. Over the years their professions have ranged from preschool teacher and shop owner to fashion designer, film makers and international popstars. Many of them are children. Some are kind, a few are occasionally truculant, once in awhile even defiant.

Through the years the town has witnessed all the usual life stories from silly songs and other happy playground antics, to bigger stuff like turf wars, squabbles, reunions, births, adoptions.

And oh have they all traveled... to the beach, to Antarctica. It's all just a wish away from home.

Who wouldn't want to live here?

This is an elegy for Animalville. My kids are now 14, 1o and 9 years old and the time they spend there has dwindled to almost nothing. We'll see. Maybe there's just enough life left to see us through one more long summer.

A long time ago, when Lia as a baby, a wise woman told me that motherhood is the discipline of saying goodbye. Today that goodbye resonates deep as the continental drift.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Fred's Again: Must Be Summer

Thanks to Wikipedia for another Fred's Steak knock-off

1-1/2 cup brewed coffee
1 cup red wine
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup molasses
1/3 cup Balsamic vinegar
1/3 cup Tamari sauce
1/3 cup Worcestershire sauce
2 Tbsp chili powder
6 cloves garlic

Must be summer. But really, don't you think there should be some burbon in there somewhere? maybe some scotch?

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

dendrites like pea tendrils
twisted around and around each other
around the stakes
driving through the heart
of my garden growing taller somehow
grasping growing up up up to the sun
while the hollow eyed vampires haunt dark recesses
and suckle themselves in cold of the full moon
mother mother
the female moon just a sliver
peeking through the obscured midnight sky.
tangles of ideas
slivers of memory
sliding over the moon
occluded by time
mother where were you
when I needed your embrace?

Monday, April 27, 2009


Count the small blessings
Obviously not O.C.D.
enough for Haiku

Drug Store Flips flops bloom
the hope of beach days beckoning
even in the rain

Restless foaming milk
when leaves of tea float dreamily
on calmer waters

So much more to do
than sit here using my best skill
writing bad haiku

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Colleen's Chicken Chili

2-3 onions (med) saute olive oil to translucent
4-5 garlic cloves minced add to saute with onions 1 min.
dump in 4-6 red yellow orange bell peppers seeded and rough chopped
1 t. cumin up to 1.5
1 t. chili powder up to 1.5
1/4 t. red pepper
1/4 r. red pepper flakes (or bump up to 1/2 each)
2-3 t. salt
saute for 1 minute
2-3 big cans crushed tomatoes
1/4 c chopped basil
simmer 1/2 hour
add roasted chicken diced
cook 20 minutes
ready to serve.
sour cream and cheese.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

This boat is old
but never sailed
built piece by peace
on hope
looking westward
across the wide ocean
we built a boat
slat by board
peg by nail
and made it water tight
but never sailed