Hungry for more

I've been eating like a horse all week.
Well. At least a hungry horse.

It's as if I've grown a zillion new taste buds on my tongue. I'm quite sure that is what has happened. All these tiny little taste seeds have budded and taken growth on my tongue to cause everything I eat taste so delicious.

On Tuesday morning, I'm having a medical procedure done and in which case I can only drink broth and clear liquids all day tomorrow and into Tuesday morning.

I am so fearing that I will be a starving lunatic that I'm eating myself crazy hoping that my tummy will feel full all day tomorrow. Why do I do this to myself. I know this will not be the case, and instead, I will probably hunger more because I've stretched my belly so large.

Speaking of eating, I'm going to remodel my kitchen. Even tear down a wall. Pretty courageous, eh?

Well, no, I'm not going to do it all by myself. (Though, I think that would be very cool!) But this upgrade to my home is what I have been wanting since I moved in here. For awhile now, I've been imagining what my home would look like with a wall taken down. A short wall where most of it is taken up with my kitchen pocket door. I think it will make it look so much more open and more beautiful. I hope so. Because I sure don't want to build the wall back up.

It'll be five years this October that I signed the papers and was given the keys to my home. Five years already!! And in all the places I have ever lived, I have never made it past the five-year-mark. I start to get that itch to experience new places to lay my head down and hang my hat on... if I wore hats.

I live in a mid-century home.

The kitchen hasn't changed a wink since it was built and I want to add a dishwasher and have one of those microwaves over the stove with a hood and new cabinets and new counter tops. Even a new floor! I am imagining myself cooking more in this new kitchen. It will be like a new home, so in a way, it will be like I moved away and moved back in again.

I was at a party last weekend up in the Marin County hills and while standing on the deck of this home, I could see the home I once lived in. I rented the granny unit attached to the home owned by family friends I have known since I was three.

I loved living there. My life and home was in perfect order back then. Nothing was ever out of place. I cooked a lot. I had so much more free time and and filled it with friends. Whenever I had dinner guests over, we'd sit outside on my deck knowing we couldn't find a more beautiful view. I could see the faint dancing lights of San Francisco across the bay. It felt like everyday I was on vacation.

I would lay in bed at night and peer out my large bedroom window at the airplanes circle the night sky overhead and then land at the San Francisco airport. I'd count down and would know how long it took for the plane to fly over my house and when it would begin it's descent. The home was on stilts on the side of the cliff and I used to be scared an earthquake would rock it over but I also felt entirely safe living there. I also cried in this home while watching the funeral of Princess Diana on tv.

(click on this photo to see it bigger)

I have been craving more organization in my life like I had back then. I am so tired of the clutter. I want to have less things. I want to back up a truck and fill it with all my once-treasures and either donate them or toss them away in a huge garbage dumpster.

I have a new shredder. I have been a shredding crazy woman all week. Shredding up every piece of paper that might encourage someone to steal my identity. Whiiiirrrrrr... the shredder goes. I love that machine. I filled up my blue recycling container last Monday. All in one day. My home felt lighter. And so did I.

I'm hungry tonight. But certainly not for food. I am hungry for more order. And more organization in my home. Less clutter. Less things (but more meaningful things). And certainly more friends to fill my day. Spring is coming. I feel it nipping at my feet. I get this way around this time every year. It's a new season. New growth. I'm excited and I'm happy. And I'm hopeful for new things. I'm already making changes and I'm moving forward.

hoppin' through our dreams

I awoke this morning from a dream of hopping on a pogo stick from my home town to Grants Pass, Oregon. It was a difficult trek. The springs didn't feel very pliable. I remember it was raining. During the dark night, the streetlights would cast it's red and amber and green reflections against the puddles as I hopped in one place waiting for the light to turn. It was a lot of hard work and I was so not enjoying my travels up north.

In my dream, I chatted with my mom who had just accomplished her pogo-journey to Grants Pass. She said it was so easy. She hopped all along 1-5 except for about 30 miles, she had to hop along a rural road. But, she reminded me, she hopped on a brand new pogo stick. I tested it and the hop was much higher and easier to obtain. But still, I was amazed at her age she could do that, and I was determined to do it as well.

I kept on hopping. All night long. On this very old ancient pogo stick.

The pogo stick in my dream was the one we had when I was six years old.

I wonder why we dream these dreams we do. (Did I have a tummy ache while I slept?)

The photos reflect the same era that we hopped on our real pogo stick that I dreamed about this morning.

The pogo stick was red. We'd hop around our block. We'd time ourselves. And count the hops. And turn it into a game how many hops it took and how quickly we made it around the block.

I can't imagine doing that now. But. This morning, when I awoke, I think for a moment, I felt as if I had really hopped my way to Grants Pass, Oregon. I felt so sleepy. I felt I could sleep another two hours.

The photos are of me and my sister and brother visiting my cousins in San Leandro.

Every once in a blue moon, we would pile in our family station wagon and travel down to the East Bay to spend the day with my aunt and uncle and cousins. It really was a rare occasion.

Bobby had the coolest glasses.

I always played-pretend that he was a blond-hair version of Ernie on My Three Sons. He sure could work his glasses. He'd pull them off and tilt his lens in such a way onto the leaves inside their waste container as if he was holding a magnifying glass.

"Watch this!"

And I would. I'd stare down at a half-brown leaf wondering what was going to happen next. It would eventually burst into a ploom of smoke and catch fire. It would frighten me, but he'd wave his arms around it in the air or pull it out and step on it and it would get smothered out. He seemed smarter than his years. He also knew how to pull apart a transistor radio and fix it. And, if that wasn't enough ... he also had his own paper route.

His dad always said, "Bobby is going to have more money than the rest of us. Just you watch and see."

I still believe him. And, maybe he already does.

These photos were taken in the backyard of their home in San Leandro. (I'm in the stripped shirt along with my sister and brother). It felt like a long hour-and-a-half drive to their home from our home in small town Santa Rosa, sucking on lemon drops to prevent me from being car sick.

I had a speech impediment and couldn't pronounce my errrs and my mom and dad would rehearse with me over and over again.
"Squirrel."
"Skoyluh."

"Squirrel!!"
"Skoyluhhh!"

"Squir-rul!"
"Skoy-luh!"

I used to love rolling down the back-seat window halfway and stick my face out a bit and the wind would cause me to suck in my breath. Then after several moments, I'd roll the window back up gasping for the breath I had lost.

My cousin Debby (the tallest one in the picture) was born with one blue eye and one brown eye. I thought that was the coolest thing. I asked her if she saw only blue through one eye and only brown through the other eye.

She looked at me and said, "Do you only see green through both your eyes!?"

I was extremely bashful. They lived in a giant white house with many rooms on a busy street. The older kids listened to music I had never heard of before. Their bedroom doors were adorned with beads. Friends on motorcyles were parked out in the front.

II'm happy I didn't really hop on my pogo stick up north like I dreamed. But I'm happy for my dream. And I'm happy that in my dream I believed I could do it.

Because I know I could if I tried. And so can you. If it's worth it. Even if it means hopping your way in an old vintage pogo-stick.

Walking the course toward the summit

If it was up to me, I would have sat down
on this bench for awhile to take in the views.

The pathways are steeper than they look. And it sure was a beautiful day!

I was always lagging behind Kelly and Matt
but it was so exciting to finally reach the top!

I believe this is looking toward St. Helena in the Napa Valley.

This is looking toward Santa Rosa which I think
might be Rincon Valley in the distance.

This awesome sign shows all the views from San Francisco to the
Pacific Ocean to all the neighboring towns and cities. You can stand
here and look out and see these awesome views and it's so incredible!
Almost like bein' on a plane. BUT! Better. :O)

I shoulda known better. I do know better.

That. Whenever my sister Kelly invites me on a hike, I really do know it's not a typical hike or at least a hike I daydream about. (We don't slow down to pick up pretty little rocks in the shape of a heart or sit on a bench and take in the beauty of the beautiful Sonoma and Napa valleys that unfold below us).

It's really a training mission for her. I run behind to keep up with her fast pace. My calves scream in pain. My lungs burn. I am so out of shape.

She is going to run the Coyote Two Moon Ultras in Ojai in March. (while i'm laying horizontal, poolside in Palm Springs)

I am tired. And I'm sore. I do feel really good that I pushed myself. I kept thinking of that awesome show The Biggest Loser where they are reeling in agony while pushing forward to live a healthier life.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this... I kept saying to myself in between giant deep breaths. And I did do it. A small feat for Kelly and Matt. A huge accomplishment for me.

I made it to the summit, elevation: two thousand, seven hundred and twenty-nine feet.

It did my heart good. In many ways. I'm ready for more activity. It really does feel good to push ourselves. I never would have done this had it not been Kelly and Matt being with me every step of the way.

So. Thanks Kel. Thanks Matt.
I wanna do this again. Soon.

Make My Day Award

The ever-so-talented Roz from Rozzieland awarded me the "You Make My Day" award. How sweet is that! Thank you Roz!

I just wiped the little bit of dust from it, gathered up my thumb-tacks (cause I couldn't find my hammer and nails) and it's now hanging up right here for you all to see!

Careful. Don't touch it. Might leave finger prints, ya know.

In turn, I would like to pass this award on to Michele Miles who's originally from San Francisco and now lives in the San Fernando Valley. She's such a delight! She writes some really amazing pieces about her life that are so funny. It's hard not to feel a kinship with her when you read her blog. She even posts a few home movies growing up.

Go visit her site. And she, too, will make your day.