Holy smokes!  Is it Friday already?  Where did the week go, anyway?  I hope the weekend holds something special in store for you.  We’ve got big plans to fix the toilet.  Yep, I said the toilet.  I bought a new seat and the wax ring is starting to leak.  Please cross your fingers that it seals on the first get-go because moving a toilet is no fun – heavy and awkward.  At least we’ve got good music to listen to while were working, however, as I’ve deemed the weekend a Pink Martini.

Pink Martini is the sound of brass, the thrumming of strings, drumming of drums, tinkling of ivory, and a delightful voice that makes me so very happy, a dizzy, giggly, effervescent kind of happy of the highest order, and this, Sympathique is their first and my very favorite album.  It starts with a flourish of harp strings and the thrill of China’s glorious voice on “Amado Mio,” takes us through a marvelous party of sounds and toe taps before ending the evening with what else, a sweet “Lullaby,” of course.

For Portlanders like myself, Pink Martini is extra special, because far from offering awesome lyrics, stellar singing, and highly danceable songs, they’re also our very own, the local band gone gold around the world.  They have no fear of language or unusual instruments, singing in French (Beh oui!), Spanish (Si!), Arabic (Inshallah), Japanese (Arigato), and more. They’ve also got incredibly big hearts too, playing benefits for many local charities, including one of my favorite organizations, REACH Community Development.

Even if I weren’t from Portland or a supporter of REACH, Pink Martini would still be on my list of favorites.  They’re that good.  Oh, and have I mentioned how fantastic they are live?  If you ever have the opportunity, grab it with both hands because the band does not disappoint.  They’ll have you singing at the top of your voice and wiggling wildly in your seat.  Well, at least that’s what happens to me!

Have a lovely weekend…

Patience

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart.  Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and books written in a foreign language.

Rainier Maria Rilke

Sanity may be madness, but the maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be. ~ Don Quixote

I’ve been vacillating between various states of madness, excitement, and sadness these past days since my diagnosis.  Madness that I am not actually insane, the pain I feel, and have felt, all these days and years is as real as the breath I am exhaling, the art on the walls, and the downy clouds in the sky.

Excitement that the pain angrily pulsing like Metallica in my abdomen will end soon.  With it will come a genuine renaissance, me without the questions, wonderings, and worryings worn like the pages of an oft read letter.  These thoughts, feelings, pokings and proddings will be replaced with a lightness in my body and an ease so staggeringly simple that I cannot quite fathom it at present.

And sadness.  Sadness that the essential parts that make me a woman and a mother, of sorts, to the cats, plants, flowers, and bees, were all these years, utterly incapable of creating a human life.  Despite the fact that I never wanted them to anyway.

Then, in this pattern, I come back to Quixote’s maddest of all and embrace my life just as it is, without shoulds.  I love this pain that causes me to question all that I know.  I love this pain that says it is okay to ask for help.  I love this pain that makes my body writhe and jerk and laugh at the sight of itself.  I love this pain that teaches me to hold closer those I love and let go of those I don’t or can’t.

Then, there is this – that my Creator had the vision and my young ears the hearing to heed the message:  You shall not have children, nor an empty life but one full of laughter, friends, song, beautiful words, and love, love most of all.

Elling and Kjell Bjarne are two mentally challenged fellows who, after years of living highly sheltered lives, must make it on their own in this rather poignant and hilarious Norwegian film.  The story follows the men through their introduction at an institution and their entrance into society.  With their tough love social worker threatening the possibility of being forever institutionalized if they fail at city life, the two must learn how to care for their shared apartment, shop for and prepare food, as well as engage in life beyond the confines of home.

The pair are a Norwegian odd couple, Elling is small, clean, and intellectual, and Kjell Bjarne is large (Elling calls him an orangutan), brutish, not keen on bathing, and, well, not so intellectual.  Despite this, they are a good match for each other, bringing balance, tenderness, and light into what are often, at least for them, some very frightening circumstances.  It is a wondrous tale of friendship and men coming of age, each learning, growing, their individual gifts blooming into treasure.

Oh goodness, does it have some marvelous dialogue, too.  Our favorite lines:

“Had I really made a friend without the help of the Norwegian government?”

“I’ll just walk the streets…be a walking target for random violence.”

“Are you spying on me?”  “No, but where are you going?”

Light hearted, fun (We haven’t laughed like this in some time), touching, and with an appearance by a rather lovely 1958 Buick Century (“Why does everyone know what this car is called?!”), it is really hard to go wrong.

Hello Everyone –

Many, many thanks for all of the well wishes this past week.  It means so very much to me!  I also would like to say that I am actually quite excited by it all.  I finally know what is happening in my body and have a clear plan to take care of it.  Additionally,  Greg and I have lived in this state of pain for so long that it’s become pretty rote.  Just think of how happy and energetic I will be once this is over.  Watch out!

Does anyone remember the Post-It episode of Sex and the City?  Berger, Carrie, and Charlotte start talking about flowers somehow and Charlotte speaks of carnations with disdain while Carrie really likes them.  As you might have gathered by the fact I have them in my garden, and I take pictures of them, I, like Carrie, am also a fan.  I love the color of the plant – that nice green-blue, the myriad shades of the blossoms, and, of course, the sweet and spicy scent (much like my signature fragrance, Fendi – Donna).

Ooh!  The lavender is almost in bloom.  Marcel Proust would be content to know that, quite like a madeleine for him, their scent stirs many memories of French vacations past for me.

The spirea is in bloom and the bees are happy!

They also like the sedum in the parking strip.  It’s so pretty, too!

And now, look closely, yes, another gnome.  This little guy is Pfeiffer, and he makes five.  We have five garden gnomes.  It really must end here.  I thought four was quite enough, but, as it turns out, the hubster has a soft spot for gnomes who smoke a pipe.  Who am I to refuse?

Be well, my friends!

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