Roughly Speaking

The Dinner Diaries

2008-07-05T12:48:00.002-04:00

My review of Betsy's Block's The Dinner Diaries: Raising Whole Wheat Kids in a White Bread World is in this month's issue of Whole Life Times (you have to scroll down the page a bit).

Hope you had a happy happy 4th. We played the role of tourists and left the writing cabin to head to the small town's cookout, eating kettle corn and lounging on a sleeping bag under the fireworks.

Something Fishy

2008-07-02T23:57:00.003-04:00

I was so excited when I went 365 days without throwing up.

For as long as I can remember I’ve gotten sick at least once a year. Like the time I got a stomach bug and threw up at my in-laws. Or the time I ate too much butter on my pasta and threw up on a vacation. Even my honeymoon ended not-so-romantically when we splurged and got the chef’s special, spiny lobster. Apparently New Zealand lobster is toxic to some (me). We had a 13-hour coach class flight back to LA the next day, but that’s another story.

When I finally went 12 whole months without a barf-fest, I was so happy that I blogged about it (hey, what are blogs for?). When two years passed, I blogged again.

Sadly, my incredible record of 2 years, 7 months, 1 week and 2 days came to a screeching halt last night. At dinner I thought twice about ordering salmon in Colorado – probably better to stick with beef out here, but I couldn’t resist. After all, we were eating at a restaurant that served healthy organic fare and sustainable fish isn't easy to come by these days. About two hours after we got home, I suspected something fishy. I went to bed and woke up in sweat. I’ll spare you the rest, except to say I really tried to keep my record strong, hoping it would only come out one end. It came out both.

I was so weak I couldn’t move. Now, you all know we don’t have a ton of furniture out here in The Ark, right? We have a kitchen table, a bed, and a very small love sofa that was donated to us by our real estate agent. No rugs. No carpet. Not even a bathmat (the importance of which I could appreciate sprawled out on the tile). Also, no couch to snuggle up into (at least not yet – it’s coming in a few weeks). Anyway, where was I? Oh, so I decided to throw my party in the upstairs bathroom where the house is warmer. When the worst was over, I couldn’t imagine finding the strength to climb down the stairs to go back to bed. After sleeping on the cold, cramped bathroom floor, I finally crawled over to the love sofa – my feet hanging off one end, my head off the other.

I tried to call out, “Ron.” But I didn’t have the strength to shout. I was shivering and really needed him to bring me a blanket (and an extra trashcan). But the blanket was up in the loft – again, too much of a feat for the moment.

I began knocking on the tile floor. The love sofa is right above our bedroom – surely he would hear my rapping.

Nope.

The next morning, after filling Mr. Sleepyhead in on the details of my adventurous night, he mentioned that he woke up a few times and noticed I wasn’t there. “I figured you went upstairs to write on your laptop,” he said.

I do this at home all the time – get up in the middle of the night to go to my office and write. He always checks on me – peers his head into my office and makes sure I’m okay.

He did hear a knocking sound last night and laid there in bed wondering what in the world the dog was getting into.

Oh, well. I’m all better now. Hopefully he won’t have to check on me next time because hopefully there won’t be a next time. I’m still convinced I can be one of those people who “never” throws up. Time to set a new record.

Comfort

2008-06-29T21:59:00.004-04:00

Standing in a bookstore, surrounded by books, nothing looks great.

I know there are authors I would fall in love with if I stumbled across their writing - I just don't know how to find them through the piles and piles of fluff. So I keep testing books out by flipping pages.

A small white one catches my eye: Comfort by Ann Hood.

I buy it.

Read it slow but fast. I can't put it down, but I want to take my time with it. It's a sad story - her 5-year-old daughter died suddenly. It's heart-breaking to read, but by the end of the book I'm addicted to her writing style. She has written many other books. Can't wait to read them - they look like gems.

Big Sky

2008-06-27T23:56:00.002-04:00

Montana.

I love Montana.

I’ve always wanted to visit and now I’m actually here. It’s as beautiful as I imagined.

The mountains are huge. And yes . . . a river does run through it . . . many.

I’ve watched some gorgeous sunsets in my life – reds and pinks and oranges spilling like broken yolks over the Pacific. But the other night I saw a purple and yellow sunset. Why don’t more people live in Montana?

It stays light ‘til after 10:00pm. Most nights I go to bed before the sun is gone. But a few days ago, I was up working very late (I’m here at a writing workshop led by an amazing teacher). I walked back to my room in the pitch dark. As I stumbled along, I looked up. Above there were hundreds of thousands of millions of stars. It was so clear I could see satellites orbiting the Earth and 3 shooting stars. An entire arm of the Milky Way stretched across the Big Sky.

Montana.

I love Montana.

Beautiful, beautiful Big Sky.

The Little Locksmith

2008-06-23T23:22:00.003-04:00

Today, a writing teacher gave me The Little Locksmith. Said it was one of her favorite memoirs. It was originally published in 1943 and then rediscovered. I love it when I learn about an "old" great book that I didn't know about. Anyone read it? I'm starting it tonight.

Clouds

2008-06-21T23:53:00.004-04:00

Clouds.

They’re not really my thing. The only type of cloudy days I like are the ones that come with blue skies and poofy white clouds that are few and far between.

But I’ve gained a new appreciation for the aquatic floating beings. You can read about it online by clicking here or find it in Sunday’s issue of USA WEEKEND Magazine (distributed in the following newspapers).

Out here the wild wild west where I’m spending a good part of summer, most days have been like this:

Perfect. Although after this article, I'll think twice before complaining of gloomy days.

Maps

2008-06-20T15:48:00.006-04:00

We got lost. On our last leg of the trip, we were chatting away and missed a turn. We didn't figure out something was amiss until we saw signs for Taos, NM. Taos? We just drove 2 hours in the wrong direction. Oh, well. I've always wanted to see Taos anyway. We stopped at a roadside store and were directed to a sweet local joint that served tacos and let us bring the dog on their outdoor patio. After lunch, in the car again, it was 2 more hours until we were back on track. "Llamas," I said, pointing out the unusual looking animals resting in a field on the side of a back road. "They're more lost than we are," Dad said. "Llamas are from Peru." I was driving and he was working on a crossword puzzle. "Motorist's aids," he said, reading the clue. Four letters, the first one begins with M. Maps. Yes, those would've helped today.

We arrived in southwest Colorado. But still had a loooooong drive up the mountain. Finally - my street.

Earlier, on our drive up the mountain, we found some loose cows. This was the second time this trip we came across cows that had broken through their fence.

Purple flowers growing by the side of the house. What a lovely welcome!

Moving On

2008-06-18T11:51:00.008-04:00

Santa Fe. Ahhhhhh - sunshine! Big, bright, yellow sunshine. My father is convinced I'm a reincarnated Egyptian princess.

The dog has been so good the entire trip. She's tired of chewing bones and playing with her stuffed sea horse in the back of the car though. She climbed over the top of the luggage so she could hang out with her peeps up front. We found some delicious Mexican food. "Mmm," I said after we finished. My dad burped. "Ow! My eyes are watering. My throat! My nostrils are disintegrating," he said. Gotta love red and green chili.

I found a gem of a place to stay. If you're ever visiting Santa Fe, Ten Thousand Waves is about 3.5 miles outside of town. Quiet, peaceful, and dog-friendly. I soaked in Japanese baths and felt like I was sitting in a vat of green tea. Instead of a restaurant, the place has a simple selection of mixed greens, sushi, and sandwiches to munch on when you're hungry. We slowed down a bit and enjoyed two full days here . . . I could've stayed longer. But soon enough we were back on the road.

Here's a beautiful spot to take a stretching break. We're gaining elevation (we passed a few patches of snow even though it's 73 degrees). And we're nearing the New Mexico/Colorado border.

Long Day's Drive

2008-06-17T13:43:00.005-04:00

Dear old Dad. He and Ron swapped places. I kept telling both of them I'd be fine driving to The Ark alone, but neither one of them liked that idea. So Ron went back to DC and Dad took over - joining me for the 3 legs from Tennessee to Colorado. I am so glad for his company.

Goodbye Tennessee. Goodbye Mom, brother 1, brother 2, sister-in-law, dog, cat, and two fish. Goodbye green grass and leafy trees. We'll be hitting the brown scrub in Texas soon enough. But first, an overnight stop in Oklahoma.

Squeaky clean after a long day's drive. A freelance writer's work is always in motion. I love that it's fluid. I can take it with me on the road. Here I am finishing a book review for an upcoming magazine article. Tomorrow I'll continue to head west.

Road Tripping

2008-06-15T21:16:00.004-04:00

We're officially on our way to The Ark. Me, Ron, the dog.

Here's the dog checking out her new "home" for the next few days - the back of the car.

Our first stop: Buzz. It's 4 blocks from our place (at this rate we'll never get there). We loaded up on turkey sandwiches, lemonade strawberry smoothies, and cupcakes.

I'm driving the first shift. We hit a traffic jam within 17 minutes. But after leaving DC (bu-bye!), it was open road.

An unhealthy dinner at McDonalds. We tried to make it romantic by eating at the picnic table outside by the creek, but romance and McDonalds just don't go together.

Mapquest said it would take 11 hours and 1 minute to reach Franklin, Tennessee. It took 11 hours and 1 minute on the nose. The house was dark and quiet when we rolled up the driveway. Only the Mason the cat was there to greet us - hiding out under my brother's truck.

Inside, things were more lively. Family had waited up for us after all. Aw, big hugs. So good to see the clan. Dad was upstairs packing . . . he's driving the next leg with me. I'll post as I continue to head west . . .

Miscalculations

2008-06-12T11:16:00.004-04:00

The car is packed: Dog bed nestled in the rear with tennis balls, stuffed toys, chew bones, and water. Suitcase loaded down with summer reading, hiking boots, and swim suits. The juicer is coming so I can make fresh vegetable concoctions. The iPod is full of songs, the cooler with apples and trail mix, and the map is marked and highlighted. I have a book to finish, essays to write, and a workshop to attend under the big open sky. I’m heading west to the writer’s retreat.

Some day.

I was supposed to leave last weekend, but I re-arranged my schedule to buy myself 4 more days. By my calculations, four days would be plenty. Was supposed to leave AM this morning, but re-arranged my schedule again for just one more day. I’m letting my life be dictated by an ovulation machine – a little stick you pee on each morning until a happy face appears. C’mon egg, drop already!

I’m leaving tomorrow no matter what. Even if it means Ron has to drive the first leg with me, fly back to DC, and then, once I’m settled, fly out to the writer’s retreat as originally planned. Of course, we slated his stay out there to coordinate with my July cycle. Hopefully, after this month, we won’t even have to worry about that. Cuz my math skills suck.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In other news - head over to the WASA blog for a sneak peak at Betsy Block’s upcoming book The Dinner Diaries, including my experiment with her recipe for “green crackers.”

Bringing Up Baby

2008-05-30T21:47:00.005-04:00

Well. There is nothing like struggling with a personal trial to help a writer develop a niche. Read my latest article "Bringing Up Baby" in the June issue of Whole Life Times.

I met the neatest people writing this ("met" as in talked to on the phone or via e-mail in most cases, but still!). Julia over at FertileHeart.com sent me her two books (amazing reads). And Gift of Green let me interview her husband (thanks, Amy). I got to touch base with Randine Lewis of TheFertileSoul.com who, like Julia, leads holistic fertility workshops. And I found a lovely connection through a gal in my writers' group who shared her birthing story. Since writing the piece I've met Njemile in person. She's given me a few acupuncture treatments (with really small needles!). And Sima - a wonderful yoga teacher - has been in my living room offering one of my favorite (and rare) indulgences, a private lesson. She forgot her iPod, and when she came back to retrieve it, she had her adorable baby daughter in tow. I bonded with the playful little girl over my dog (who loved the attention).
To read the article, click here.

The Wait

2008-05-30T09:32:00.002-04:00

Reading books is part of my job.

It teaches me how to write.

Some days I barely work at my desk, opting instead to read for long stretches of time. Haven’t had the chance to do that lately because my days have been blessedly crazy (a steady stream of assignments and editorial work at a magazine).

But soon I’ll be leaving for The Ark where I’ll dedicate my time to the personal, more creative writing I enjoy. And, of course, to read.

I have a huge stack of books piled up and ready to go west. Normally, this pile of books would be tempting. After a long day, I’d be up until the wee hours of the morning reading. But knowing that I’ll be able to savor the prose and follow the story at my own pace has stopped me from trying to cram in a reading session at 1am. So the books stay piled, quiet and patient. I know it’ll be worth the wait.

Light

2008-05-28T21:59:00.005-04:00

Night number two of total darkness went much better than night one. Ron and I both felt like it was the best night’s sleep we’ve had in a long time. When I woke, I saw light over in the far corner. I thought Ron had gotten up and turned on a lamp on the floor above so he could see while he walked around, but he was still sound asleep. It was from the early morning sun streaming in through our big back windows and spilling down the stairwell. Ron says tonight is the deciding match.

Speaking of light, I saw my first firefly of the season tonight.

Also, I love the verse in the bible that says there will be no sun in heaven because God himself will give light.

Darkness

2008-05-27T09:46:00.001-04:00

Last night we slept in total darkness. It's an experiment. Apparently artificial night lighting can mess with a person’s system, and I’m trying to get my body back in balance. We slept in the basement where there are no windows, no glowing clocks, etc. We’re going to try it for 3 weeks.

“Wow, I can’t even see my hand in front of my face,” Ron said after about 10 minutes.

I buried myself against him, snug in the covers. This was going to be great. No nightlight shining in my eye. No flash of the cell phone signal. It was cool and . . . not-so-quiet.

The dog got sick. She was pacing above us on the kitchen's hardwood floor. Ron was up and outside with her in the dark. Then I had a nightmare about war and people shooting me.

By morning, I was exhausted.

Blogs and Birds

2008-05-23T22:20:00.003-04:00

Up over at the Wasa blog this week:

How to Be Sweet on Yourself;
Gift of Green's Clothesline Challenge; and
Ode to a Kiwi

. . . among other things.

In other news, did you read the story about Yosuke the parrot? Made me laugh.

The Great Adventure

2008-05-22T21:06:00.007-04:00

I was saddened today to learn of the death of Steven Curtis Chapman’s 5-year-old daughter, Maria. I saw him in concert many years ago after his wife had just given birth to their third child. I remember him saying, “We have Eeny, meeny, miny and NO MOE!" But they did have more. He and his wife became involved in international orphanages – serving abandoned kids, raising money, and establishing a foundation. They adopted three girls from China for a total of six children. My first thought upon reading the news story was, How could God let this happen to such a wonderful, loving family? I do think that good things can come from unexpected and tragic places. And I have faith that will be true here.

~ ~ ~

Years ago, I used to set my alarm clock to wake up to Steven Curtis Chapman’s song The Great Adventure.

Saddle up your horses we’ve got a trail to blaze
Through the wild blue yonder of God’s amazing grace.
Let’s follow our leader into the glorious unknown
This is a life like no other
This is The Great Adventure.

Solomon

2008-05-17T11:48:00.003-04:00

King Solomon.

When he inherited the throne from King David, God came to him in a dream and said, "Ask for whatever you want me to give you."

Solomon asked for an understanding heart to help govern the people and discernment to know right from wrong. He didn't ask for riches. Or for a long life. He didn't ask for the death of his enemies.

God was so pleased with Solomon's request, that God gave him a wise and understanding heart. And riches. And honor. And, if Solomon continued to walk in God's ways, a long life.

I wonder what our presidential candidates are praying for?

On Her Way

2008-05-11T23:48:00.003-04:00

The first road leads west. It’s lined with fertility pills, hormone shots, and artificial technology. Cold metal instruments, long thin tubes, and “You-have-to-squeeze-me-in-TODAY” type of appointments.

I hate what I see. But the crowds urge me on. They say, “Isn’t it worth it?”

Is that what I’m supposed to think? Anything for a baby? Anything? Everything? Peace of mind? Sanctity of body? All those hard earned dollars we’ve saved?

There’s another way. I can help myself – heal my body and emotions and spirit. The hurdles are big, but not insurmountable. The path is slow. Dark. I take one step and look for the next. The doctor scoffs. The relatives sigh. My husband says, “If this is the path you want to take, count me in.” And he’s along for the journey.

I know my body is capable of conceiving naturally.
I know the drugs will do nothing but mess with my system and prolong the process.

So I spin on my heels and turn my back on the well-beaten path. I make my way through the tall, thick reeds. I piece together my own map of instinct and wisdom and faith.

Mama’s on her way, my love.

Goodbye

2008-05-08T01:02:00.003-04:00

A thick marine layer rolled in and spread over the coast, so I haven’t seen the sun in two days (in Los Angeles that's an eternity). I doubt I’ll see the sun tomorrow before hopping on the plane to fly back east. But that’s okay. I’m waking early and heading to the beach anyway.

I need one last rollerblade.
I need to touch the sand and breathe the sticky sea air.
I need to admire SoCal’s architecture again.
And the Pacific. The magnificent Pacific.
There’s no way I’d leave without saying goodbye.

**UPDATE: The sun came out after all. Can't believe I underestimated LA weather. I should know better.

One

2008-05-05T19:21:00.003-04:00

Can you believe I've been blogging for Wasa for a year? (Me neither.)

If you haven't visited in awhile, come tell me whether I should start drinking wheatgrass and help me figure out if a mushroom is a vegetable.

In other news, I'm back "home" in LA and gosh, it feels good to be here. Like slipping into a worn pair of jeans. Even though I'm in a hotel working my bootie off, I love that I can run out to my favorite lunch spot or attend my old yoga class . . . which I'll be blogging about for WASA later this week. Which reminds me, you're supposed to be visiting me there, so go on . . . . Scoot.

Warmth

2008-05-05T00:20:00.003-04:00

Legs stretched on a lounge chair
Book in hand
The lap of pool water

Two friends arrive
We’re celebrating a birthday at the spa
Lemonade cocktails and soothing rays of California sunshine

Later, under a blanket on a soft table,
Steam massaging the skin of my face, so gentle
Hands melting into a wax treatment

Dinner brings champagne bubbles
Sushi and braised ribs
Under the bed covers, I sleep

Wake to a happy Sunday
Say hello to the university, a place I adore, where I write
Write and write and write – then walk the mountain – and write some more

Symphony

2008-04-27T22:25:00.002-04:00

17 hours in the car in two and a half days.

We’re driving all over North Carolina – partly for a writing assignment, partly to celebrate a relative’s 70th birthday.

In between conversation we listen to CDs:

His: Saint Germain
Mine: City of Angels
His: Royksopp
Mine: Meet Joe Black

We pop in a sermon. We’ve been through all the radio stations.

“Do you want to listen to Beethoven’s Ninth?” I ask.

He does.

It’s an old CD. I’ve had it forever and got it from who knows where. Mostly it just sits in the case, but lately I've had the urge to get to know classical music.

I took a classical music class in college. Don’t remember learning much (probably cuz I didn’t study very hard), but I do remember there was a guy in class who wanted to write a symphony. It was the first day and the teacher asked each student why we were there. I’d heard it was an easy A (it wasn’t), which is the same reason most of the students had signed up – but this guy appreciated music. And he had his heart set on writing a symphony (one day).

The teacher tried to keep a straight face. Asked the guy if he understood what an undertaking writing a symphony would be. The guy seemed have a grasp of the enormity of his dream. The teacher didn’t - he kept talking, discouraging the guy’s idea.

I’ve thought about that guy from time to time.

I hope he wrote his symphony.

Buggy

2008-04-21T23:02:00.005-04:00

Anyone have a pet frog?

Can we borrow it?

Our place is being attacked by flies. Gross. Big. Female ones.

We have no idea where they're coming from. We’ve only lived here since November. It’s been pouring outside and the windows aren’t sealed tight – is the rain driving them in? I set up an herb garden a few weeks ago – was there a nest buried within the soil? We generate about one small bag of garbage each week, so I’m pretty sure it’s not that. We are clueless.

I’m in the middle of reading 2nd Samuel right now, but this morning I opted to flip back through the Old Testament and read "The Plague of the Flies" in Exodus, just for kicks. I sort of got caught up in the whole Passover story and was reminded that there was a plague of the frogs too. So on second thought, don’t send us your pet amphibian.

~~~

In other news, I’m buckling down big time this month with lots o’ deadlines, so I need to say bye-bye to the blog until May. See you then. Um, then again, I cannot let a “fly” post sit on this site for two weeks (eww), so I’ll post again in a few days.

The Dream

2008-04-16T11:34:00.001-04:00

Oh, Harry.

I’ve been waiting all year for your book, The Dream. (Actually, I’ve been waiting since I read the last page of The Invisible Wall.)

Walked a mile to the independent bookstore yesterday and all copies were gone.

Walked another half mile to the not-so-independent bookstore and they just sold their last copy.

Walked home. Book-less.

I suppose it is okay because I wasn’t even going to read it. Not at first. I was going to place it on my nightstand like a gift. And look at it a lot. Pick it up and hold it and set it back down. Pick it up again and flip through the pages and maybe glimpse at a few sentences, but not too many because I don’t want to spoil the surprises.

Then when the week was over and my own writing work was finished, I was going to dive in.

I have one more shot – a third store, about two miles away. This time I called in advance. They’re holding it for me.