It’s here, summer is here.



My foray into the garden at 6:15 this morning (I’m up early on my day off, but that’s probably because I fell asleep on the couch at Embarrassingly Early O’Clock watching Season Two of Arrested Development - more on that in a sec) yielded a glimpse of the season’s first Grandpa Ott’s morning glory, an annual occasion that, in 2008, makes me feel two feelings: Feeling One is oh! A Grandpa Ott’s! It’s well and truly summer then, and gee, it’s so purple and lovely, and I remember when I first planted these eight years ago when I was gardening at 1005 and Lilly was wee and we were homeschooling and, though broke, all seemed right with the world. Feeling Two is goddamnit, I’m never going to be rid of these things. WHY did I think it was a good idea to a) plant them in the first place here at 909 and b) let them go so vigorously to seed a couple of years ago? WHY? In a month their admittedly lovely deep purple blooms will mock me every morning from every corner of the garden - the beans, the neighbor’s fence (she hates them), everywhere - and I will have given up entirely on trying to pull them all out and then they will go to seed and the entire cycle will begin anew. ***** This past weekend (which is still on for me today, as Mondays are my Sundays) was exhausting. I managed my eighth market of the season this weekend, and while not completely snafu-free (starting things off with a pop-up thunderstorm at the 7 AM open was all kinds of oh, COME ON), it went well in the end. The Market part of my job is part publicity guru, part puzzle-master, and part mediator, and I love it. It can get stressful (I never sleep well on Friday nights despite an early bedtime, and I get up at 4:30 AM wondering why the heck did I ever want to do this, my gawd, but that wears off once I start loading my truck about half an hour later), and it can get crowded: It’s the fastest 8+ hours of work I’ve ever experienced, though. Anyway, the kids left Saturday for their grandparents’ for a week (!!) for “summer camp”, so Jim and I have been hanging out, doing what married people do when their kids are gone - you know, sleeping at odd hours, doing yard work, practicing with bands, sleeping some more, not eating meals, refereeing disputes between cats, watching soccer, drinking Fat Tire, and falling asleep DAMNED early watching TV on DVD after eating a little too much barbecue from L’il Porgy’s. SO CRABBY when I woke up to go back to bed. Anyway - Cody will be away for his actual birthday this week, though we’re celebrating with the whole gang on the 4th when we go fetch the children. My first baby will be 16, y’all; I started blogging in 2002, when he was TEN YEARS OLD. I think I’ll have to gather up a photo retrospective. He is such a tall, intelligent, handsome, savvy, and gifted young man, and it’s a privilege to be his mother. It’s time to take Monday by the horns. On the list, for all you listy folks out there:

• lots of laundry to hang on the line
• thoroughly clean kitchen
• vacuum and sweep all floors
• clean bathtub
• continue weeding garden
• ?

I love Mondays now.

The Wordy Diva family is available right now, today, this very second, for the (temporarily? I don’t know) low, low price of TEN BUCKS! You’ll get a slightly cleaned up version of Wordy Diva, the brand new Wordier Diva, and Lilly’s font, Li’l Diva, to use however you want! Cool fonts are indispensable for use in making flyers, doing zines, creating blog banners (see above, though I would never recommend any of my “banners” as examples of how things ought to be done, because… whoa), making menus for your awesome catering company, adding a little sass to yr reports at work, etc etc etc. Chank’s got everything you need to know right here.



[Full disclosure: Lilly gets a cut of the proceeds.]

11. The Replacements, Hootenanny (1983) 12. The Replacements, Let It Be (1984) During our years at Chaska High School in Chaska, MN, my friend Lisa F had THE BIGGEST crush on Tommy Stinson, bass player for the Replacements. He seemed accessible (unlike, say, John Taylor of Duran Duran) for a couple of reasons: a) he was born in 1966, so he was close to our age and b) he was reasonably local. I’d look for him at Shinders whenever I snuck into town, but I never saw him, not once. His brother, Bob, was another story entirely. But oh! What a privilege to have BOTH these records serve alongside Duran Duran, Journey, Foreigner, and Prince as the soundtrack to my teenage years! How awesome that the Replacements (and Husker Du, and Prince, and the Suburbs) were my local music scene in high school (thus providing an entree into the local music scene whilst in college, which included Soul Asylum, the Jayhawks, Run Westy Run, etc)! How well both these records have aged - they’re seriously timeless. Timeless! They were the best band - badly behaved some (much?) of the time, unpretentious, brilliant, troubled, troubling; you’d be so disappointed in their behavior or the occasional bad live show.. but the first to vigorously defend them to a detractor. So. The Replacements’ catalog is being remastered and reissued with bonus tracks/outtakes this year by Rhino. The first half of the catalog (through Let It Be) was reissued this week; the latter half (starting with that old heartbreaker, Tim) will be released later this summer. I’m rebuilding my collection. ####################### Now Cody has whatever Lilly had, with slightly different presentation. He’s out of school today. Jim has it too, but it attacked just his voice instead, leaving him to squeak over the phone at work. I have a touch of it too, also in my throat, but I just sound like I used to sound all the time back when I smoked (I quit almost 4 years ago, and still think about having a cigarette every day). Lilly has recovered, but the cough sounds terrible, just like the doctor said it would. ####################### There’s a guy at the Wall Street Journal - not some doom-and-gloomer survivalist website straight outta 1999, but the Wall! Street! Journal! - advising people to, yes, stockpile food: Stocking up on food may not replace your long-term investments, but it may make a sensible home for some of your shorter-term cash. Do the math. If you keep your standby cash in a money-market fund you’ll be lucky to get a 2.5% interest rate. Even the best one-year certificate of deposit you can find is only going to pay you about 4.1%, according to Bankrate.com. And those yields are before tax. Meanwhile the most recent government data shows food inflation for the average American household is now running at 4.5% a year. And some prices are rising even more quickly. The latest data show cereal prices rising by more than 8% a year. Both flour and rice are up more than 13%. Milk, cheese, bananas and even peanut butter: They’re all up by more than 10%. Eggs have rocketed up 30% in a year. Ground beef prices are up 4.8% and chicken by 5.4%. These are trends that have been in place for some time. And if you are hoping they will pass, here’s the bad news: They may actually accelerate. Amazing stuff. I’m hoping for high yields in the garden… and stocking up on lids and rings for canning jars. It makes you wonder (well, it makes me wonder) if this really is the beginning of the Long Emergency…

Not happening tonight. I can barely keep my eyes open. Cody claims he is processing photos. Lilly’s tooth finally came out. My hands are dry and my eyes are tired. Jim makes excellent dinners. The daffodils are blooming.

[Has anyone else been having trouble with Gmail - both mail and chat functions? It’s been very unreliable for me since Saturday.] I go to the gym every day now except Saturdays. While it’s doing good things for my body (better endurance, better muscle tone) and better things for my psyche (there’s a lot of discipline involved in making oneself get up at 5:50 AM when it’s two degrees outside), it’s doing fantastic things for my brain chemistry. I’m calmer and better able to handle what gets thrown at me every day. Here’s Workout Playlist Three:





Lugengeschichte/Telstar Ponies Love Removal Machine (Peace Remix)/The Cult Nicky’s Sister/Flour Silence, Sea, and Sky/The Chameleons Great Release/LCD Soundsystem Policy Of Truth/Depeche Mode What Is Life/Black Uhuru Tomorrow Started/Talk Talk (London 1986) Search And Destroy/The Stooges So Far/The Soundtrack Of Our Lives Dub Fi Gwan/King Tubby Kitchie Kitchie Ki Me-O/My Midnight Creeps Entirely Made Of Wood/Love Cup The Bottle/Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson Hot Stenographer/Kinski Dream Police/Elope Black Man Land/Prince Far I Mr.Untitled/Union Carbide Productions High Expectation/Stereolab Bury Me/Smashing Pumpkins





[Music has taken such a back seat to events of the last year and a half. I can’t believe it, really, since it was my first love. Every man I ever dated, practically, was involved with music in some way (present man included). I worked in music, wrote about music, interviewed musicians, traveled with them, ran record stores, sold music to record stores, discovered talent and promoted it. I lived and breathed it, the industry, the three chords and the flats and sharps, the destroyed drum kits and the production decisions. I was there when…. When I’m on the treadmill (the treadmill! I sometimes still can’t believe it’s come to this, god) hearing the Smashing Pumpkins, it’s impossible NOT to feel very Chicago in 1991; when I hear Telstar Ponies, it’s impossible NOT to become the me I was in Chicago in 1995, embarking upon the most important relationship of my life with their music as a backdrop (it remains a favorite of ours today). I’m sure I look crazy on the cardio machines at the gym, my face constantly changing with the shuffling of the songs on the iPod.]





The last few weeks have been a trial; I’d like for work stuff to not be such a driver for me emotionally, but I struggle. I’m very sensitive to the vibes, and while I don’t usually let it bother me, when things reach critical mass it can really suck.





So I’m working on it. I’m looking forward to starting my seeds in late February. There’s some sunshine and warmth in my not-too-distant future, too. My little house is warm and relatively clean (Three cats. Enough said). The kids are healthy and happy and thinking for themselves in spite of their daily environment - she writes, he photographs. Jim and I have arrived at that place people always told us about where we can have dinner together alone while the kids are off doing other things; we’re talking more and working together and are in a period of deep closeness right now, having to do both with my improved mental state and our improved communication. Note to self: keep communicating with that guy.





Now playing: U2, Mysterious Ways ETA: I wonder when those first two Smashing Pumpkins records will be remastered so they sound like they did when I first heard them - big, expansive, etc. Maybe I’m just going deaf.

November 2, 1998 was the day a page was turned, a light was switched on, a door was opened. We brought our new daughter/sister home and began a brand-new family life, and while it was very, very good, it was also damned difficult at first. We had to adjust to being four instead of three, and I know Cody, who was six when Lilly was born, had a rough few months of it before the edges smoothed enough to allow for some big brotherhood to creep in. He remained in school for the rest of that school year and all of the next, but came home after second grade…… and another page was turned, a light switched on, a door opened. The five years that followed were, frankly, some of the best years of my life so far. [Way more fun than hanging out with rock bands, that’s for damn sure. Seriously.] When Cody left school, that’s when the real education of my adulthood began. I see those five years as the core formative period for our family - constant activity (though it wasn’t always about learning), constant togetherness (though it wasn’t always fun), constant struggles to make ends meet (don’t ask me how we managed, because I have no idea. Well, I do). The kids had freedom to learn what they wanted to learn, and so did I. I have no doubt in my mind - none - that if Cody had stayed in school, I would never have pursued gardening, food, or cooking to the degree I did (and do). I would never have found the work I’m doing now - food system work - I know I’ll be doing, in some fashion, until I’m not working anymore and even then… I’ll be doing it. Homeschooling the kids for five years enabled me to learn how to learn again. It also gave me a chance to parent kids in a way I’d never imagined I’d be wiling to try. These two kids, who would never have attended the same school (and now that they’re in school, never will), grew up together respecting each other (for the most part) and being each other’s friend and partner in crime. They had easy access to an adult they were close to for a hug, some conversation, a game, whatever. Our family became closer-knit - we were one tight unit back then - but more welcoming, too, of friends and relatives and guests. Not having so many work/school demands was, in a word, awesome - that kind of freedom is unheard of in this culture, and I spent a lot of time explaining ourselves to people who were suspicious of all that “hanging out”. A lot changed when Cody went back to school in 2005, and more changed when I went back to work full-time in 2006. It’s complicated (what about families isn’t?), but it was time to do something different. The kids needed it, Jim and I needed it, and the family as a unit needed it. The whole career thing for me was terrifying professionally - what if they find out what an utter fraud I am? What was I thinking, re-entering the work force after 8 years? - and personally. What if putting them back in school was the wrong decision? I fretted. What if they’re bored or get in trouble? What if they secretly hate us for what we’ve done? What if they don’t value the time they had at home? What if family is no longer important to either of them? Or to us? I still fret about all that, even though they’re both very well-rounded kids who are solid parts of their school and outside communities. And intimidatingly bright and committed. What is my problem? I mean, life isn’t perfect by any means, but perfection would only serve to make me more anxious anyway. On the way home from Michigan this past Sunday, I stole glances at the kids while they did their thing in the back of the car, knowing that we’re on the back end of family vacations including all four of us. It hurt, which made me sit up and assess this new situation - that of the children are not babies, toddlers, or young children anymore, and holy freaking bats, I have a nearly-grown man as offspring. Tonight, we’re putting Cody on the Amtrak to be with his dad for Thanksgiving, and he’ll probably be gone for 9 days directly after Xmess. We’ll miss him, but we’ve been heading in this direction for awhile. He was gone most of this past summer, and plans to be gone all of next. He’ll be 16 in July, but he let me peck him on the cheek when I dropped him off at the high school in this morning’s pouring rain. That’s when I knew it was OK. Sometimes, I worry about Lilly’s feelings about the shifts in the family dynamic. It occurred to me that maybe she doesn’t really notice, or if she does, she doesn’t care. Maybe she wouldn’t show us if she does care, I’ve thought. But then I read this last night, excerpted from her current story:

Gwen took a deep breath. “You don’t know where your parents live?” Mysta turned to her. “I don’t know yet, but I can find them. If I wanted to see them, my longing would be so great that I would if it was the last thing I ever managed to do. If I really wanted to see them, nothing would dare to stand in my way. I would hunt them, stalk them, track them down if it cost me my last breath; hunt them not like prey, but out of love and devotion for my family.” Gwen was knocked silent by these words, although Mysta continued her lecture. “If I wish to do something I can do it. I would battle Tai, slash the Dark Riders to bits if I had to –” here Gwen shuddered at the gory visualization, “– and even battle the Lord Maskmei, high in his palace at the peak of Ghuandumar. I could do it. If it is out of love for my family and devotion for my friends, I would battle till my last breath to see or do what I really wanted to.”

Lisa B-K and her kids, Florida, 2007


I’m thankful for the political conversations. The phone calls reassuring us when he’s late. The love notes. The unloaded dishdrainer. I’m thankful for “Mom, have you ever heard of the Pixies?” and “I wrote Oma a thank-you note, and could you put a stamp on it?”. Gratitude abounds for games of Scrabble and Set, for LOtR movie night, for father/daughter basketball games and mother/son protests. I’m not going to hold on too tightly, because that makes them struggle to get loose. I know this. I’m just going to find deep peace in this period of time and enjoy my people. May you do the same.

I’m trying to get back into blogging without it being so… bloggy. You know what I mean? I know, I know. I’ve said that how many times since, well, my first and favorite old blog (Madame Insane, for those who’ve been around for a long time) bit the dust in, what, late 2004? Seriously, though - recently I’ve had several thought-provoking IM chats (I know - what are the odds?) with a couple brainy, inspiring broads (plus Amanda!). I’ve received old-fashioned US Mail from some seriously interesting women who make me feel all kinds of feelings - mostly the kind of feelings you feel when you hear from someone who’s known you best over distance and time. They’ve all reminded me that I write - even though I haven’t written well for awhile - without being overbearing or pushy in any way. I mean, even my mother doesn’t act like my mother any more - I should probably lose the chip on my shoulder, eh? I also went back to the saved archives I have from Madame Insane and I realized how much I’ve changed since that one launched in 2002. Clearly, writing on a regular basis at a “place” whose design I loved was good for me; the blogs that followed (MizUntitled and this one) never felt (or feel) right to me and weren’t (or aren’t) posted to nearly as often. Maybe it’s the Wordpress interface. Maybe it’s my total lack of design skills and color sense. Should either of those things matter? No. Neither should the pens I prefer to write with when at work or writing analog-style in my journal. But they do, they matter. Even though they’re distractions from matters at hand, they do matter. I turned 39 a few weeks ago and find myself at many, many crossroads - mental, physical, personal, professional… … and I feel that it’s time to incorporate some new keywords into the ol’ existence. Like discernment and focus and truth and momentum and breath and forgiveness. And principles - principles like count to ten before jumping all over The Teenager ™ and old habits die hard, but often it’s best to let them die and what you put out there comes back to you threefold and if it’s not working, do something else and less is more and fresh is best and maintenance, maintenance, maintenance. I’m coming off a month of terribly stressful work and other stuff, and while sitting around eating Halloween candy and opening the mental front door to give Despair the time of day is kind of appealing, I know it’s a recipe for disaster. Ergo, NO SOLICITORS. ****** In other news, Lilly turned 9 yesterday. She’s my youngest child - my baby - and she is a spectacular human being: Also, three years ago yesterday - on Election Day, no less - I put down the cigarettes for good. While I know it’s for my health and what about the children? and it’s a nasty, gross, and goddamn expensive habit were all rationales for quitting, here’s what pushed me over: Big Tobacco wants me to consume their products, possibly forcing me to use its buddy, Big Pharma, to stay alive someday. Pretty good racket, eh? No, thanks. Sally forth and conquer.

The following is from an as-yet incomplete story called Secret of the Wind. Lilly is its author; I have typed exactly what she’s got here in her notebook.

“The Eillan Lord has brought back icy thunder, frosted with shadowy forms that lurk among the snowflakes,” Chellen sighed. “Forever will there be no moon at nightfall, spattered with dark drops of dew? “Will the dew on the forest leaves turn to frost? Will trees and branches fall bare, leaving a barren, icy land in their wake? “Forever will the clouds ice the stones with tingling, arctic glitter? Will the stars never again shine down from the sky, sparkling with frosty teardrops? “Is there any hope left for this world? Eillan [winter], Panaal [fall], Wonme [summer] and Einn [spring] will come together and shake this earth to its root. Will we survive, or will the roots crack and wither? “But ah: there is hope still. The Season Bender has returned. This time he will not fail.”

Quite a bit of Avatar, a little bit of The Lion the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I like it so far. No - I love it so far. Why should I write when my kid does it so much better?

I’m fairly certain it does not. For more photos of the anti-war “die-in” Cody and his friends planned and made happen without incident on the University of Illinois campus yesterday, go here.

I mean, it’s been a month,but it’s also been a month, if you know what I mean.





I have entries coming, I promise, but I did want to mention that Cody’s home from his trip. I’m hoping he’ll write a guest entry here, but you can read about the trip from several different perspectives here.





He took almost 2000 photos:











His Flickr is here.