Beginnings

Welcome. The period is meant to denote caution as in "welcome . . . swim at your own risk." I will admit that I'm feeling somewhat afraid but I intended to try this eventually so it's a "feel the fear-do it anyway" sort of trepidation that I'm assuming will pass.

There were so many people that I wanted to write personal emails to on a variety of topics but the task seemed daunting and cumbersome and then there's the waiting for a reply or the notable absence of a reply that I hate. If I just jot down my stream of consciousness here, then anyone who would like to listen in on my mental monologue could and would also be able to respond if they desired. No expectations. Freedom.

This morning my primary thoughts are on coffee and simple pleasures. Hot coffee on a cold day is such a comfort and I wish that I could be utterly content with it. I think many people are not only content but can even take something so simple as their daily imbibe and raise it to an art form of experience. I attempt this feat as I look out of my kitchen picture window and wait for birds to appear at the feeder. Yesterday a new one showed up and under scrutiny I could see it had a pale yellow underbelly. I have yet to grab the field guide from its misplaced status and discover the bird's name. The coffee cools too quickly. I miss the coffee in Spain, the way it's made with the press and the dainty little sugar pots and mini spoons and the milk heated and frothy (even en casa). My daughter sits with me quietly eating her favorite cereal (Hearty Morning) while we gaze out into the backyard together. We wonder if Chico will swoop down today and scare off the doves. Since our cat ran away we now have a Guard Bird - appears to be a robbin of some sort and he must have a nest within eyeshot. He dives down to protect the bird feeder when the doves perch on the fence to see if it's safe to eat.

I have dropped my son off at school - high school. I hated school when I was growing up. My son hates it, too. He's not particularly social in his peer group or fond of societal protocols, especially the artificial world of High School where there is zero tolerance for anyone slightly outside the lines. I like being outside the lines and I think my son does, too. He has no desire to "fit in." It's a noble stance in my view.

My daughter is homeschooled and she has already played several tunes on the piano. As I amble around the kitchen I think about what I would do if I could start my life over again and how I would have loved to understand the language of music. I wonder if she has any idea how lucky she is to have the chance to explore music and its power. She is so creative and playful on the piano and I delight in the fact that she has some deep knowledge of herself that she expresses on a daily basis.

My mother's letter of yesterday is lying on the island in my kitchen and it reminds me how damn intelligent she is. It's a one-page handwritten note about how you can just take a tablespoon of vinegar with a cup of water each day to balance out any acidic condition of the stomach. I'm glad to see she has taken the time away from CSPAN to convey this useful information to me.

Time to get my school day planned . . .