May 30

Today my buddy Elke and I went for a 6.5 mile hike in La Jolla Valley. Among other sights, we spotted this snake. Can anyone tell me what kind it is? Elke actually stepped right over it without noticing. It wasn't moving ... was it playing dead, or actually deceased? It wasn't swarming with ants, so if it had expired, it had to have been in the extremely recent past.

May 16

Just back from the Topanga Bango & Fiddle Contest, a Southern California institution. I love watching musicians jam, just having a great time together. So many characters, so many tunes.

Next time, I'm going to go without a teenager, so I can settle down for the day and drink it all in. Events like this make me glad to be human.

May 12

View from my desk, looking up.

I came home from work feeling remarkably chirpy. When Josh wondered why, I realized it's sad that I rarely arrive in a mood like this. Shouldn't I get a regular buzz from what I do for so many hours a day?

May 9

And here's the big (2 yo) girl's version. These cashmere lovelies are so soft and adorable, they may well become my go-to baby gift for a while.

May 8

On April 24, nine weeks early, a wee Little Bear was born to my niece downunder. It's coming on for winter there, so I decided to put some of my thrifted cashmere to use and make him a BatBaby Hat and Beddy-Bye Beast. Given his diminutive size, I reduced the hat pattern to 70%.

I'm thinking that his big girl cousin might like a scaled up version too. Luckily, I have a lot more cashmere.

May 7

This week it's taken all my willpower to stay in the moment, to not feel hurt, or lash out, or tell myself stories that lead to pain and self-righteousness. I am practicing kindness, moment by moment. I am listening, and waiting.

"If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me."

Parenting is tough. Step-parenting is tougher. But this, too, will pass.

May 5

Remember Hippie Running Man? I still see him every day. My awesome poet sister-in-law wrote this poem about him.

Running Man
his route to work
never varies
past the post office
and community center
down the canyon
lined with sandstone strata
towers rich
with bits of shell
and Paleozoic pebbles

he runs
breath and stride
old blue sneakers slap
on pavement
loose legs
arms swing
in tattered sweats

he comes to the mouth
of the canyon
jogs at the stoplight
and crosses the beach highway

he settles at his rock
next to the sand crabs
gulls swoop and cry
delivering memos
he spends his work day
managing the tide

May 2

I finally made a bag from the mudcloth I bought a few months ago. It's lined with a wonderful print that my lovely neighbours brought back from Zimbabwe.

One of the things that's delayed me has been my search for the right handles. Last week I bought a set at Joann that I thought would be good, but when I went to attach them last night, I realized they were wrong, wrong, wrong. So this morning I set out to do the rounds of the local thrift stores, determined to find something that would complement the fabric better. I ended up with these black wooden arches, and I'm pretty happy with the end result.

May 1

A week ago, while hiking alone, I tripped over this root and landed hard on my face, and camera. The camera is fine, but my chest is not. Besides sporting a large technicolour bruise, my sternum still aches. A lot. It's amazing what you use your chest for. Simple things like coughing and carrying groceries and rolling over in bed.

Hopefully in another week I'll be healed, and I'll be rolling with the best of them.