Sweet Home Chicago

They called last night from a hotel in Iowa near the Illinois border.  Settled in early for showers and a full nights sleep.   Can’t believe how excited and happy they all sounded. Per left by train last week and is home safe and sound.  They will see him later today and are staying at his place.  Aunt Gail’s service is tomorrow.

As for me I am mastering the meds.  Taking 10 mg of Celexa every 12 hours to get up 20mg at once, once a day.  I’m sleeping through it. It’s been several days in a row and I will have this down before they return home.  The anti depressants are kind of a background thing.  I know they are working because my brain is creating happier colored wall paper.





Family left last night without me.  First it was Jon and Cedar and at the last minute little man said me too.  Gave each of them some pocket money and Jonny tried to give it back.  Said keep it, you’re going to Chicago.  Oh they were so excited. Called my mom and she asked why I didn’t go. New meds, haven’t adjusted.

Our Little Talks


My daughter and I just wrapped this up in less than 5 minutes.  We were caught off guard by this hidden racial profiling.  If we say anything one way or the other, it’s racial judgment based on what we have been socially conditioned to believe is ok by that construct.  So what if a human being identifies with another culture, religion, gender or sexual orientation? My daughter tilted her head to side and smiled and said, interesting societal insight.


Road Trip

Maybe, maybe not.  Aunt Gail’s funeral is in Chicago.  That last road trip nearly killed me.   I dunno man, thinking about it.  My heart’s spaghetti junction…

Road Trips with Jon are hard core.  It’s all the sailing I think.  Well yeah actually, a nice 20 hour road trip is the same as a race in tactics. First of all he doesn’t like to sleep.  Good Lord like that time in Montana.  The road trip he slept.  He wouldn’t let me pull over to a hotel.  So I waited until he fell fast asleep and I pulled over.  Picked a bad place.  It was a park and I did read the sign that said:  DANGER, Don’t Walk On The Grass- RATTLE SNAKES.  And I pulled a sleeping bag and slept under a tree, on the grass.  We both woke screaming when the sprinklers came on.  He was really angry, his window was open and he got a shower. I was screaming because it sounded just like a snake. Chick Chick Chick then shaking like a rattle.

Or that time in the desert at the Grand Canyon.  Woke him with my screaming because a little scorpion pinned me in the shower.  Ran him over running naked out of the bathroom.  He killed it for me.

Or that other time I had a bad dream and acted like a nutcase for 500 miles until I said This Is It, just like the dream.  I was walking in a circle freaking out. WE HAVE TO LEAVE RIGHT FUCKING NOW.  He asked Why? I said, TORNADO. 20 minutes later, a tornado destroyed that town.   It was late summer and a bunch of Harleys were with us outside of Sturgis riding like bats from hell.  Suddenly very windy, one nearly side swiped us going 100.  The bikes were just laying down sideways like meadow grass on the highway.  One went right off the road with a passenger on the back and they made it without dumping.

Or the time I slept on the floor because there was only one bed in the room.  Woke him up by grabbing his foot in the middle of the worst asthma attack in my life.  He had to run out and tear apart the packed car for my inhaler.

Or that last trip when we lost a tire in Ritzville coming home.  I was also dealing with kidney stones that I stupidly ignored.  I had believed we would make it to Seattle.  But that night was both a blessing and a nightmare.  If the tire hadn’t blown we would not have stopped.  In fact it worked out great because the service station was across the street from the ER.  Walked in wearing one shoe and I thought I was carrying the other, but it was my camera.  The poor nurses. They were very upset, had to wake the doctor. They were making me drink cranberry juice while sedating me and sticking me with a needle for an IV.  My blood pressure had skyrocketed like never before and she said I wouldn’t have made it.  She hadn’t seen anything like it since Mount Saint Helens.  What a mess.

Then Jon showed up and the car was ready.  Then the nurses were like, right, you had better get going, there’s a storm coming.  Jon and I looked at each other and nodded, we had been running from it since Illinois. We stopped and scanned the mountains and this tourist said, nah, it won’t clear the mountains.  There we were in the pass and now I was screaming for him to drop his speed to 20.  So he did. We rounded the corner and it was like a movie.  It was mid summer but it was snowing with lightning.  The road turned to ice with two inches of snow and cars were spinning off the road right and left.






Lalapalooza 92 & 94

Probably the best line ups ever.  When Pearl Jam played, Eddie Vedder climbed the scaffolding all the way to the top, swinging around like a monkey then roared like a lion.  No harness, it was insane.  Back then Rage Against The Machine played the side stage.

The Beastie Boys stopped the show due to escalating violence in huge mosh pits.  There were two, side by side, equal size, one spinning clock wise and the other counter clock wise.  As the space between them thinned to one line of not moshing people, they stopped the show.  Said they weren’t about violence and they wanted to play for everyone. They wanted everyone to chill out and let the whole crowd enjoy the show.  The mob filled the space and they began again and then punks rushed the stage and pinned not moshers to the stage and they had to stop the show again.  People were being carried out all bloody.  They waited, exclaimed to the crowd to be non violent, said they were all about non violence.  They began the show for the 3rd time and after about 7 minutes, walked off stage.  I think they played about 30 minutes total.

2017 line up looks ok, one show in the US, Grant Park, Meh. U2, Meh.  PJ Harvey in Seattle.  Roger Waters in Tacoma. John Legend at Chateau Ste Michelle…wonder what the line up is at the gorge…  must be getting old. the only shows i’ve seen in years are the orchestra.

2016 Cedar saw lots of shows, went backstage @ Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zero’s.  Jon even took her to see Black Sabbath.



Pet Deaths.

We lost Mama cat and Ferris the rat.   Both died of natural causes due to old age.  Need to bury Ferris tonight. He’s on the porch and Mama left and didn’t come back.  We searched all over for three days and don’t think we will see her again.  We did everything to make sure she was warm and comfortable.  She and Buddy used to sleep in his kennel on the porch together with the door open.

I adopted Mama cat and her sister at a moving sale on island. My daughter remembers the day.  The family was moving off island and made sure the cats went to a forever island home.  Kept my promise.  Sister cat died in our arms three summers ago. There were 20 kids at her funeral.  We transitioned the cats slowly, I went to visit several times before I picked them up. This house is much like thier old farm house so they were quick to adjust.

Ferris was three.  We all held Ferris and noticed he seemed older somehow.  That night he had what my daughter says was a stroke.  She must have caught the behavior right away.  She moved him into her room and he passed in his sleep, sleeping beside her.  It took time  to get used to pet rats.  It was a slow process that began about 4 years ago.  It was my friend Julie that calmed me down.  She said they were great for kids.  So I immediately shut up about it.

The kids used to put rats on me for a few seconds at a time.  Then they would drop them off on me and say, you have to hold them everyday or they go crazy.  After a while I could tell all their little personalities and now its fun.  I even tie up hammocks for them to sleep in with fabric from my sewing kit.  They love that, crawl all over my hands supervising me.  Took some convincing but Julie was right, again.



The Winds Of Jupiter

Waited a long time for someone to upload onto Youtube, did purchase it from Vimeo the day it was released.  Waited even longer for it to be uploaded to Vimeo.  Not including the wait for its completion.

Good Morning

My 19 year old son called and woke me up for a ride to his job site.  Had a flashback of him when he was a babe.  It was spring and we played in the orchard and we tasted apple blossoms. Back then we had sheep and chickens…  lots of hippies, drum circles with him in the middle in his swing and we hosted weekly figure drawing group, his dad’s band played in the living room.  I loved that farm, there was a large glass window over the kitchen sink and this big beautiful camilia tree that was like having a vase of fresh flowers every day.             He totally grew up. He’s moved off island with his beautiful girlfriend and commutes back every day as a walk-on to keep the costs down.  He mentioned that it would be easier if he had a car on island.  Made me smile.  Offered him my car if he’s willing to walk up the hill from the dock.  He can drive my car and then drop it off at the end of the day, it’s only a few minutes from the ferry.  That made him smile.

This week my 26 year old son and his beautiful girlfriend are viewing rentals and soon they will be in a similiar position.  They are both working full time and I hope they find something that will make them happy.  He’s also found work here on island and for him, moving from the midwest offered an $8.00 raise in hourly wages.  Stopped at the coffee stand this morning and Kathy said she saw him on his way to work and she said he’s very nice.  Made me smile again.  He just  did his taxes by himself.  Woah.

Very proud of both of them and their beautiful girlfriends.  Good teamwork. Great looking out for eachother.  Wonderful relationship skills, all of them.  Hard core work ethics.  So responsible. Good work.  Keep it up everyone. Love seeing all of them pull their own weight and also be supportive of eachother.  Big smiles today. But wait there is more.  My daughter has been interviewing on island and word is she has a summer job.



John Anderson & Ansel Adams

We have an original darkroom print from each artist.  Our friend Per who is town for the race, used to live near Ansel Adams in Carmel.  Per gave Jon the Ansel Adams print 20 years ago.  He bummed when he saw that the glass cracked.  It fell during an earthquake. There is a nice frame shop on island and I promise to have it repaired asafp.

They were hung together, side by side.  That’s when you can see Ansel Adams in John Anderson’s work.  At first Per was like you’re kidding.  Anderson’s piece dwarfs Adams.  John was here last week actually.  Too bad they couldn’t meet.  Then Per could say he met them both.

Then John could confirm in person to Per that he studied with Ansel Adams in the Carmel Highlands.  Probably when Per lived there and they may have even met in a coffee house.  John’s coming back soon because they are showing his work at VAC in April-First Friday.

I’ll be there twice, once for the exhibit opening and again for the orchestra’s spring concert.  Our unoffical name for the space is The Mcfeeds Performance Art Center and Afterthought Gallery.  Try as they might, locals don’t like how close the building is to the street.  It’s still weird to people that it used to be a feed and tack/pet store.  The only place on island where one could buy Koi.  ( not to be confused with fire dancing, ) Many have said they will never step foot in the place.  Well I’ve done it.  The first concert played was Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.  The sound is Pitch Perfect. So there.  And actually there is plenty of light in the gallery.






Found that photo of Jon on the race site from last year.  Thinking about him.  Thinking of Randy.  Woke and saw Jon and Per out the door and went back to bed.  Phone rang and Jon said he left his red life jacket next to the woodstove.  Didn’t see as it was dark when they left.  So I drove down to the dock and what a happy sight.  There was Randy Sonnier suited up to race!

What a day.  It blew 25-30 up Colvos Passage. Too much fun.  We talked about it before they left.  Too much wind. Lots of tacking.  It was sunny.  He sounded tired. Heating dinner.

As fate would have it, there is probably keel damage from the last race, surpise surprise on the Toliva Shoal.  Boat has an 8 foot draft.  That and while sailing up the passage some teeth were knocked out of the main starboard winch. Things break, time for an outhaul.   Need photos. That brings to a close the 2016-2017 Southern Sound Series.  Next race, 8 weeks.


Main Sail- Randy Sonnier


Award Ceremonies-Olympia Yacht Club                           Southern Sound Series 2015-2016

Our kids call him Pirate Randy. We met in the funniest way.  Our mechanic tricked out my car and didn’t tell me.  (long saab story)  Basically he took the governor off the turbo.  The down side of that is obvious.  So there I was at the gas   station with a smoking engine.

He walked up and said, “Turn the engine off and step away from the Saab, you’re killing it.”  Like it was my fault.   He handed me his cell phone and said, “Call your husband.”  Witnessing the death of a beautiful saab made him a little bit upset.  It didn’t matter who I was. At that point I wasn’t going to say anything.  It was like getting arrested by Nicolas Cage. Just dialed Jon and passed Randy the phone. Of course they became great friends.

Recalling a race with Danny & Randy in the photo…  We were flying the boat toward Tacoma down the strait from Pt. Robinson.  So fast.  It’s a two ton boat but yeah, we flew it.  A second later it was like Paganini’s violin losing strings.  The sound was so loud.  Really it was like a 60 foot violin. Ping, Ping, Ping. We lost three halyards just like that.  Hence the term, Three Sheets To The Wind.

And Danny?(I’m probably one of the only people who can still call him Danny, he’s Daniel to the rest of the crew.)  Well I’ve known his mother since his was 11.   The age Jonny is now.  What’s funny to me is that I have a photo of Danny when he was 11 and just like Jonny in the above photo, Danny’s head was shaved.  Danny’s mom lived semi near us when I was pregnant with my daughter.  His mom is a labor and delivery nurse.  On her way home from work she used to stop by and give me b12 shots that my midwife left in the fridge.  When Jonny was born 911 c-section, she happened to work at the hospital and made sure to visit and see that we were ok with breast feeding.  In fact she was my massage therapist when I was pregnant with my now 19 year old son.  She’s been there for three of my pregnancies.  Now Danny is this big strapping merchant marine with kids of his own.

We’ve been missing Randy this racing season.  Jon made visual contact with him recently.  Bummer of bummer, he hasn’t been well. The VA referred him to the UW and he’s receiving the best of care.  One tough son of a bitch, he’ll be back with us soon.   ( jon said semi recently, some one discovered a man hanging in a tree in the woods.  he had been there for some time before they took him down. he was a homeless man and they are saying it was suicide.  randy was able to identify the body because if it was who they thought, the man had a tattoo on the back of his neck.  they shaved the man’s neck and found the tattoo and were able to properly bring closure for his family…)



Island’s Race- Gig Harbor

The Course:

From the starting line, proceed in a northeasterly direction through Colvos Passage around the EAST side of Blake Island to an orange buoy anchored approximately 1000 yards north of Blake Island. Leave the Buoy to PORT and proceed EAST of Blake Island, south through Colvos Passage and finish in a southwesterly direction across the (starting) finish line.

Important Course Note:

The course will take all boats through the ferry traffic/lanes from Vashon to Southworth. Washington State Ferries and Commercial Shipping Traffic have the right of way. Racers must obey all right of way, distance clearance, and Coast Guard regulations.

Little Man’s B-Day

Little man @ 3 years, Cedar @ 11 years, Rj @ 20 years.

We’re here again and having an RJ day.  More like a few weeks.  Began when I found his hoodie in my daughter’s laundry basket.  The black and blue hoodie he’s wearing in that photo with us on the steps.  The kids have taken turns share wearing it.  Because Rj’s and Jonny’s birthdays are close together we’ve thrown their parties together and had been doing that for a while.  He made a point to invite his dad who celebrated with us, he wanted us all to be friends like a big extended family.  That made him happy. This year Rj would have been 28.  On days like today I feel him.  Then Jon came home from work and with a huge birthday box from RJ.  Like Christmas, signed from RJ, Judith and Ramon.  So beautiful of them.  He’s still with us and that makes me smile.

This year’s cake was four layered, a cake for Jonny and a cake for Rj, doubled up.  Jon and Per made the cake and had fun doing it!  We went with relighting candles that brought lots of joyful laughter.

Rj’s Lego collection, his ships and favorite beanie. Beautiful card from Judith and Ramon;  Jonny-  Happy Birthday from Rj!  Please enjoy Rj’s Legos.  He had many hours of FUN building with them.  The Beanie Baby was one of Rj’s Most Favorite—because he was a Pisces like you.  Please know that he loved you and still does.  Ramon, Judith & Rj.


Fake Friends

Like toxic mold on a toliet.  There are depressive behaviors and there are codependent behaviors, never the friends shall meet, unless both are in therapy.  Otherwise it is like trying to play tennis from a wheel chair that both players are sitting in.

One seemingly healthy person may seem sketchy to a person who has actually been to therapy more than once or twice because someone dragged them into an office. Who is the healthier person? The person who hasn’t been to therapy because that person doesn’t think they need any therapy?

Fake friends are incapable of taking responsibilty for their own behavior.  They like to dismiss depression because really they are too tired to spell out their own issues.  Fake friends say things like, everybody feels that way.  Really that’s just saying, I also feel that way but don’t give a fuck.  Misery loves company.

Fake friends don’t care how they meet their needs, just that they meet them.  A need to be needed for instance can become, let’s just say needy to a person in active recovery from depression.  Needy and draining and repulsive and there’s no denying it. No side stepping issues.

Say a friend quits drinking.  Takes full responsibility for that.  A real friend says, that’s great, good for you. Any friend who says, I liked you better when you were drunk-deserves the following reply:  Actually I liked you better too, when I was drunk.














Dear ________,

How To Explain Depression | A Letter


Dear ___________,

You are getting this letter because you are an important person in my life and I want you to understand more about what I am going through. I know that I can be difficult and I’m sorry for that. I know that I probably don’t need to be sorry, but I am. In fact, I feel guilty for feeling sorry in the first place. Ridiculous, I know. That’s how my brain works because I have depression… and yes, my mind is an exhausting place. I want to give you this letter to help you understand a little more about what I am going through, ask for some grace as I work this crap out, and to suggest a few ways that you can best support me if you are willing.

The first thing that I want you to know is that I am trying. Or, rather… I am trying to try. You see, 1 and 1 don’t always add up to 2 with depression. There are legitimate biological differences between me and someone that doesn’t live with depression, which makes this a really difficult uphill battle. I am literally fighting against my biology which tries to tell me that none of this is worth it and that I shouldn’t even try. When people say things like, “Just think positively,” or “It’s all in your head,” it does not help at all. I know that it is in my head, but unfortunately it is not as easy as flipping a switch and suddenly feeling better. I know that probably have 1000 reasons to be happy and sometimes I feel like the worst person ever for being so down all the time despite them.

Fighting off depression is not a simple task. If it was, I would have done it already. Trust me when I say that I am so tired of feeling like crap all of the time. I am actively trying to take steps to better myself and steal some of my life back from this depressive monster that has crept in like a black cloud raining over all of my thoughts and feelings. The process will involve challenging my negative thought patterns, pushing myself to re-engage with things that I used to enjoy, working to forgive myself for letting things get so out of hand, and finding people that I trust to be on my team. That’s why you are reading this. I want you to be on my team. I know that I have not been the easiest person to be around recently. Maybe my actions or inactions have even hurt you in some way. The thing is, I need support to dig myself out of these patterns. I don’t need a yes or no answer from you right now, but I want to share a few things that do and do not help me in case you are ever willing to lend a hand.

For now, this has to be on my terms. I am feeling more broken and fragile than I would like to admit. Down the line, I might need a bit of a push, but for now, tough love is not what I need. That means that unsolicited advice that worked for you or someone else is probably not helpful. Unfortunately, there is no one size fits all approach to depression. It’s a very individualized sort of beast. Also, being told that what I am going through is not that bad is very hurtful for me. I know that it might not be logical for me to feel this way given my life circumstances. I know it could be worse and that there are many others in the world who have it worse. That’s just how depression works. Intellectually knowing something and feeling it are two very different experiences. I’m working to make them more in sync.

Though my instinct tells me otherwise, it’s probably not the best idea for me to be alone all of the time right now. So, please have a little grace and forgiveness with me if I get irritated or act in off-putting ways. I do want you to be here and I really appreciate you continuing to try. I feel like a lot of people have given up on me. I don’t want you to be one of them.

Probably the most helpful thing that you can do for me is to let me know that you are here. I forget sometimes, so please don’t assume that I already know. Tell me that you are here if I need you. I won’t always know the best ways that you can help me and you don’t have to either. I mostly just need to know that I’m not on this journey alone.

Like I said, a big part of this process of recovery is finding ways to fight back against these unhelpful patterns of thinking that I have fallen into. Sometimes it can be really helpful to have someone that I can rely on as a “logical barometer.” Basically, I can tell you what my train of thought is regarding a situation and you can tell me whether you think it makes sense or not. You can share how you, as a non-depressed person, might interpret it. That helps me to practice reeling in the overgeneralizing, personalizing, and overall amplification of negative thoughts. My thoughts usually start out rooted in reality, but they get way blown out of proportion and you could definitely help me out by nonjudgmentally letting me know how far off my thinking has gone. You don’t have to be “right” to help me out with this. There are really no right or wrong answers, but I will be much better off if I have a few people that I can get input from when I am doubting my initial interpretation of things.

I am trying to do more. This might mean that I am trying to get back to doing things that I used to enjoy because everything feels very bland right now. It also might mean that I am trying to get off of my butt and be more physically active. It is so incredibly hard to find the motivation inside myself to do these things. One change that can give me more motivation to follow through with plans is when I have a buddy to do them along with me. Maybe you could be that person. I don’t mean that you need to do everything with me, but if there is something that you enjoy that I might benefit from, maybe consider inviting me along. Speaking of inviting me along, I won’t always say yes. Even if it is something as simple as going to dinner or the movies, sometimes it feels like the weight of my symptoms are literally crushing me and I will pass on almost any invitation. Please keep inviting me. You don’t need to waste all of your time trying to convince me, just don’t give up on me. Keep offering, please.

Finally, I would be so grateful if you would help other people understand what I am going through. Hopefully at this point, you “get it” a little more. Depression is something that we are told to keep a secret and it is really hard for me to share my feelings sometimes. You are reading this letter because I trust you and want you to be on my team. It is exhausting for me to reach out to each person and ask for help, so if you could help other friends and family understand when they ask what is wrong with me, I would really appreciate it.

If you are reading this far that means that I was right about you. You are amazing and a perfect addition to my depression fighting team. Like I said before, I really am trying. This is a tough battle and I don’t know how long it will take, but having allies like you will certainly make the process that much easier. I am not asking for a blank slate. I know that I can sometimes say or do things that make me not so pleasant to be around. That’s the nature of the beast. You are allowed to be upset, angry, hurt, or annoyed at those things. I just ask that you try to understand that these things are an expression of my depressive symptoms. They may be a part of me, but they are not the whole me. I hope this letter helps you to understand a little more about the other part of me that is dying for a chance to get out into the world.


PS: Please feel free to ask questions. I’m sure this is a lot to take in. It’s not the easiest thing to explain. I may not always have the answers for you, but you are welcome to ask.

The Art of Double Handing

Sometimes the boat delivery sailing adventures are bigger  than the race itself.  Especially if the cpt is alone or with just one other person.         I myself have no experience single handing a yacht.  I have pulled away from the dock and the mooring but I’ve never dared park the boat alone. I could probably do it, I don’t know, I’ve never had to. That being said, I’ve jumped off the boat and tied it up more times than I remember to count.

Won my crew position on something else.  Pop quiz, maybe even my first time on the boat.  He tossed me rope and without even looking at me, he said restring the traveler.  Thought to myself, it’s just like a sewing machine, finished in under 5 minutes. Pre-req for running the back stays. I’ve asked him about his biggest criteria in selecting crew, he said-they have to be into it.  Willingness? Not so much. The gold star he’s looking for is desire.

We’ve sailed together many times to get the boat to or from a race.  It was a natural progression to double handed racing, maybe leading to racing the Vic Maui together.  Just sailing to Maui isn’t fun to us at all, it’s like, Meh. Taking it up a peg to a race makes the idea more interesting. After a few races with Jon, switched it up and double handed with Billy to see if it was any different and it wasn’t. We made great time around the island, had all the same issues as a full crew.  Same thing with Sidney, we’ve sailed double handed, but haven’t actually raced together, we delivered a boat once and that was stressful enough.

Have raced Colvos Passage double handed, twice around Vashon. (But that doesn’t count all the trips to or from a race with just two of us.) Once around Blake Island, The Jack and Jill. (And that doesn’t count all the other races around Blake Island.)   On the Blake Island race, double handed, Om Namah Shivaya. Jon was on the fore deck all happy about how the spinny looked. While I was looking a few miles ahead and saw all the boats laying down. Pointed that out and said yup it’s beautiful and you have to take it down and set the gib and you have less than ten minutes. We were racing but the faster I drove, the less time he had to change sail. He turned and looked forward and was like, damn, you are correct.  Have sailed Colvos Passage so many times I’ve lost count.  It is fun because it’s a place in the Puget Sound where the water always heads North. It’s the sweet spot.  Lots of tacking. That’s where I learned to fly a spinny up to 20 knots.

Double handing Colvos Passage on this boat can be difficult because everything is spaced so far away from everything else.  It’s not designed for double handing-at all. The helmsman has to run the back stays, main and then leave the helm sometimes to cut or grind. The foredeck guy  has to change the sails alone, trimming, run the mast and hit the pit. On the double hand with Billy my arms simply stopped working,  they just froze and I wasn’t able to grind. Had only made it half way up the passage. He had to cover all the grinding for the rest of the race. So that’s part of it. Men are physically stronger than women, period.

Maybe this should be about how to race double handed and not break up with your partner. One good thing is that on a long race theoretically,  one person is always sleeping so there is less conflict. Except every story we’ve heard involving conflict, has been from a cpt who took his girlfriend on a race to Hawaii. Every time he’s been sitting alone telling the story because the girlfriend flew back home on a plane by herself.  There’s something about feeling trapped on the boat.

When I made it back home from that boat delivery with Sid off the Oregon coast I was a mess for weeks.  So many things broke.  I was surprised it was with me for so long after making it back home.  Still remember Jon walking into the kitchen to see all the chairs tied together all around the table and to the fridge and oven.  Must have spent a couple of hours in meditation like that.  Square knots, clove hitches, bowlines. In my state I thought they were so smart looking, but they were hatchet knots.  He helped me take them all off and said that was about spending too much time with crew in an 911 situation, Post Traumatic Stress.

When we were all in Chicago years back, I sat with Jon’s ex-wife at the yacht club for dinner around this big table.  I had mentioned stressful things about sailing to her.  The time we crashed on a sand bar after flying along in this back eddy. Looked down and there were star fish.

Then she told the table a great story about racing with Jon.  They had a full crew and she was sitting next to a large over weight man.  They were hit by a squall and the boat went way over submerging the crew.  She said when the boat flipped that large man fell on top of her and pinned her down.  She knew what was going on and somehow had the ability to reach her arm around the halyard and untie it from the winch, while holding her breath with this big guy sitting on top of her.  It worked and the boat corrected shiny side up. She weighs a hundred pounds, wet with big boots and a winter coat.  The experience is still with her.  It didn’t stop her from racing, had it happened to me, I would have stopped.  After the boat delivery on the coast, with a crew of 3, I stopped. Haven’t been out of the harbor ever since.












Little Pink Houses

Called my pharmacist of 20 years regarding my doctor faxing Rx’s.  He confirmed the order and cleared the insurance coverage in a snap. I thanked him and said my husband will stop by on his way home to pick them up.  He said, Ok, we’ll have them ready for Jon by closing.  Such a small town that my pharmacist’s son is my dentist.  My doctor and I are members of the same church, that my pharmacist’s parents also attend. The same church we were married in. Had the kid’s baptised in, where they went to sunday school and where they received thier first bibles. In fact that’s where and when Jon and I met by accident and sparks flew.  We met passing in the hall. He was rehearsing with orchestra and they were sent out so the sunday school kids could go into the sanctuary to pratice bell choir.  He was carrying his violin and I was carrying bells.

That painting is of the old portage store.  I used to live in that painting. A hundred summers ago. Down the street in that painting. Can’t see the house because of that big tree on the left.  The house sits facing jenson point, inner quartermast harbor and the burton marina.  He doesn’t remember but I used to take my son there to let him shop for penny candy.  There was a very large old school brass cash register from sesame street.  Jim used an abacus to total all the groceries, he didn’t really use the register except to make change.  Locals still remember when the band, Rush played there on the deck which isn’t really illustrated, but that’s ok.

The store operated on licenses that were grandfathered into code.  When the store closed, that was it. If it were to ever re open the party needs to build to new code.  Back then Jim and Elsa ran the store and lived above it. One day in the store’s last summer, I walked in on a conversation between Elsa and Joan.  They were talking about moving out and there was so much to do.  Then Elsa pointed at a shelf.  To a jar on a top shelf with a lot of dust on it.  Joan said no time like the present, we’ll take the row boat and just go out a little ways.  Elsa said she had never been in a boat, except the ferry.  That’s when I started laughing.  Soon I was out in the row boat with them.  To spread someone’s ashes.





Rewind 10 seconds

This is my son and I talking about my dad’s bike.

Let me sit down.  My hands were shaking and I asked, You did What? And he said it.  He said, I blew the head gasket on his new Harley last summer.  You’re joking right, how fast were you going?  He said once he peeked and it was 120 after that he couldn’t take his eyes off the road but he’s pretty sure he buried the needle.  Why, I mean, how?  A tornado.  Oh. Does he know that? No. Aye, I bet he was Pist.  What did he say about the engine?  He said I can’t ride it anymore until I pay the bill.

I’m still sitting with it. My dad hasn’t said a word to me about it.

But I’ve done some things like that with his snow machines up at the lake.  He was good about it. No river skipping, but one winter I was zooming across the lake and there was an open water hole with ducks.  Someone installed a thing for them and I had to bury the needle to get back to shore, total slush.  Another time he was patiently instructing me on the 911 choke in case the motor stalls.  Sure enough I crashed it after flying it in the air.  I had been in such a hurry to take off I was only half listening to him.  Took me a second to realize how fucked I was. Took off my helmet because I was hot and then I started freezing. And then I remembered what he said and got home just after dark. That was the scariest part. I totally walked in and didn’t say a word. Just sat down in a chair next to him by the fire and just like the broken Harley, he didn’t ask what happened.



MR Nibbles?

Settling in on a name for the bunny.  We all believed bunny to be a she because of the heart shaped eyes.  For months we were thinking Daisy.  My daughter was shocked when she heard me calling out boy names.  The day had come and I had to tell her, I think the bunny hides its easter eggs on the outside.  Why? Because I think I found them when pushing bunny off a laundry basket.

Found him on my desk one day and he had chewed through all the cords to the wifi router, sitting in a mangled pile of them like a tossed salad.  He eats  hardwood floors, wood furniture and even chewed on my acoustic guitar.

I know we are getting into our groove because like when Buddy was a puppy, the bunny picks on stuff I pay the most attention to.  This week bunny chewed a mandala off the cover of my sketch book and a bumper sticker off the tackle box with all my art supplies in it.

When I saw that, began giving him carrots everyday and he leaves my stuff alone. It’s been several days of bunny happily hopping into his hay box for his treats. When he’s done he hops onto my bed and waits for me, knowing I don’t like it and will soon rush to gently set him on the floor.  But for the last three days I just said, ease up. Laid down on the bed and looked at bunny. And for three days he hopped up to my face and kissed me.

So I’m thinking something like Mr. Nibbles or maybe Mr. Kisses.  Will float it through the weekend and see what my family says.





Med Check

1. Little interest or pleasure in doing things
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
2. Feeling down, depressed, or hopeless
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
3. Trouble falling or staying asleep, or sleeping too much
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
4. Feeling tired or having little energy
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
5. Poor appetite or overeating
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
6. Feeling bad about yourself – or that you are a failure or have let yourself or your family down
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
7. Trouble concentrating on things, such as reading the newspaper or watching television
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
8. Moving or speaking so slowly that other people could have noticed
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
Or the opposite – being so fidgety or restless that you have been moving around a lot more than usual
9. Thoughts that you would be better off dead, or of hurting yourself
Not at all Several days More than half the days Nearly every day
10. If you checked off any problems, how difficult have these problems made it for you at work, home, or with other people?
Not difficult at all Somewhat difficult Very difficult Extremely difficult
Today’s Total:  7  (prefer to see that number at 3.  easier for me to manage, over 5 it’s a quick decline.)

Assessment:  Moderate episode of recurrent major depressive disorder; PTSD.

Meds Daily:  1200mg Gabapentin, changing 20mg Prozac to 20mg Citalopram & adding 25mg Hydroxyzine .

Ten simple questions.  It’s just a 15 minute appt.  Have rescheduled several times and that is a bit worrisome. Have been on Prozac since November.  A few weeks back had suffered instant and horrible stomach pain after taking Prozac, drank Pepto Bismol straight from the bottle, went off the meds cold turkey.






Aunt Gail Died

In Chicago last night.  She’s passed her family bible onto us. Memorial service April 1st.

Jon was very good about visiting her as often as possible..  Made us all go on this long road trip to visit the Auntie’s.  Now they are both gone and all my memories of the trip are like grasping straws.  There was one Auntie in Phoenix and another in Chicago.  It was the summer and it was so hot. We drove like 6,000 miles across the country, no a/c.  We thought the ac was broke, nope, just disconnected.  Didn’t realize till we made it back home.  In Phoenix we hung towels in the windows of the car to block the light.  Our youngest son and I in the back seat.  We had two coolers with ice water to soak our feet. Kept wringing out his t shirt and covering his head with it to keep his temp regular.   The city was like a zombie apocalypse, no people outside.  They were all indoors with the ac cranked up. No solar panels anywhere, just the hum of central air.  By the time we arrived in Chicago we hadn’t slept in a week. We ran out of gas the night before, at the pump.  Got so mad I pulled out a sleeping bag and slept on the sidewalk at the door to the station.  Woke up to this man standing over me with an armful of newspapers, his fly undone.  I was like, what the hell dude, check your fly.  I really think it was unintentional.  He was just a slob, nothing else.  Immediately zipped his fly and went back to his paper route.  That was 4am by 7 we were having breakfast with Aunt Gail, she was expecting us and we were sure not to disappoint. I knew she was praying for us that whole trip.


Om Namah Shivaya

met an old yoga ram das hippy friend shopping at granny’s. can’t remember how we got there, Om Namah Shivaya.  She says, you can’t say to that to everything.