I was surfing my archives this morning. Two summers ago I wrote extensively about gardens and hens, about landscaping and anticipating a swimming pool. The chickens and garden, I miss. The huge responsibility of managing 2 acres, I do not miss. I wonder, is it my nature or is it my altered state: Why do I crave being settled? We still have not figured out where we will be in six months. We still want to be here and there, California and Hawaii. We want security and adventure, familiar and exotic. Sometimes I find myself nostalgic about our Rancho Days, and fortunately I have a very good grasp on all aspects of those days; we were ready to let go. Still, I feel really ready for a place of our own again. I also feel nauseous, hot, large, and somewhat cranky.

Max's birthday party was a great success. It's all in the planning... at least that is how I have decided to tell it, because Max did all the planning. He reminded us daily about the order of things, sometimes rearranging activities. In the end he chose to serve pizza first, and to finish with the pinata. In between he opened presents from Nicholas, and Adam and Jacob, and we ate the cake he planned and decorated. The cake had to be home baked chocolate in a rectangle shape, with whipped cream on top and sliced strawberries around the edges. It was a very good cake, and he did a very good job of spreading the cream and arranging the strawberries.

We blew bubbles, and tried our hand at making balloon animals. I also created a game we called the Crabby Grabby... remember our theme was Sponge Bob. In honor of Mister Crabs' greedy ways, we filled a box with sand and plastic sea creatures, then added lots of coins from our change box. The object of the game was to grab as much of "Mister Crabs' money" as possible, using a plastic grabbing claw. You may not follow any of this, but trust me, had you been there you would have wanted a turn as much as Grandma and Grandma Boo Boo, and Rich and Geoff did. Yes, the kids liked it too.

Max has new toys and new memories, and a proud and contented feeling from a happy day. He put a lot of thought in to his theme, and the activities. He was very concerned about his guests' pizza preferences, and offering yellow forks to go with the yellow streamers he hung himself. He even wanted to be sure that the Sponge Bob pinata was filled with the treats that other children enjoy, even if he could not have some of them himself. I had not realized that 6 could be such a generous and mature age. He's pleased to be six, and reflects on his new age with great satisfaction. He says he feels like "a nicer person, stronger and faster too."

Curative Powers of Water

This is good stuff... Surfers Healing. Geoff and I are in awe of the healing, soothing, and calming effect water has on Max. We got him on a boogie board this weekend, and the fun never stopped.

Question: Can 5 servings of fruit come from 6 slices of raisin toast?

Okay. I have gone from "Ambitious Plans" to "Wishful Fantasies." It was a short trip, and I'm not too proud.

I wish I were as strong as two men, so I could move all the furniture around and make the living space in our upstairs more comfortable. And spacious. And pretty too.

I wish the cats used the toilet, and never scratched the walls.

I wish there was a way to drive to Oregon without seeing L.A. County or the Inland Empire.

I wish I had the energy and the deep down, sincere desire to keep this house really clean. All the time. And organized. Even the closets and garage.

I wish I was so philosophical, confident and secure that I didn't obsess about stuff.

Alex wants to go camping this summer. He wants to sleep in a tent and wake up to hooting owls and the piney freshness of redwoods and forest ferns.

Max wants a Sponge Bob birthday party tomorrow; not next Saturday when his friends can come. He wants chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting. Actually, "cake first, then presents, then pinata and last pizza."

William wants to be left alone to delve in to his world of programming computers and deciphering the mysteries of 3D Studio MAX.

Geoff wants to provide for his family, and play tennis. Lots of tennis. Preferably tennis in Hawaii. Maybe some kayaking too.

The Papaya seems content to bounce vigorously on my bladder, and alter my taste in foods.

They (Blogger.com) have removed the little icon that links me to my catalog of exported photos. In the "Help" section they describe an elaborate sequence that is meant to instruct me on how to post pictures the new way. I want the little icon. I want "click" and the comfort of all I knew and trusted. Now I am confused and locked out.

I have learned that an effective means of learning computer tricks is to play with the computer. If you play around and explore a bit you are likely to learn a few secrets. William, Alex and Max explore the computer with the ease of children in a toy store. They are learning all the methods and means of programming and trouble shooting. They speak Geek, and practice Geek cultural habits. They move from site to site to site, and from program file to program file, with the confidence of a local resident. I am still a tourist. So long as I stay on the main streets and avoid the tap water, I can manage in the cyber world. But when my precious and tattered guide book becomes outdated, then I am woefully lost. When I attempt to wander and explore I find myself at the same fork in the road, but tired and frustrated.

There is one subject on which I can speak with certain and confirmed authority: Science and health. Though I cannot find the medical reference to back my claim, I am quite sure that I can trace the source of my fog and diminished cerebral clarity. It begins in my uterus. There, in the comfort, safety and mystery of my womb, another human being is taking form. She has developed limbs and ears, eyes and bones. Her muscles are stregthening, as she twirls and kicks in her nightly dance. And she has an appetite. She feeds on olives and cantaloup, chicken tacos, apricots and asparagus. There she is in my uterus, all linked up with her life line, the umbilical cord. And somewhere, in a spot, still undetected, the umbilical cord travels, discreetly and directly to my brain. Yes, like her brothers before her, she has linked up to my own brain and she is draining off whatever remains of my cognitive prowess. No doubt she will finish off the last of my brilliance when I breast feed her for 2 1/2 years.

I need a little nap.

Half-Way There

We've been making lemonade. And apple pie. And peach cups. And fruit salads. Our trees have produced plums and apricots, a few nectarines and bushels of apples. The apples are sweet-tart; great for snacking, and even tastier when baked. Our friend and neighbor, Tamsyn, has been sharing blackberries, lemons, grapes and peaches from her yard. I miss having a vegetable garden, but we have had a lot of fun and delicious treats from the well established orchards in our own yards.

Half way there; that's the baby countdown for this week. Well before Christmas, and some time after Thanksgiving we'll be making a special holiday of our own, when the Papaya makes her entrance. I saw my doctor this morning, and as usual he made me feel like a maternal champion. "How are you feeling?" is what they ask at each visit. I answer honestly and with some frustration, "Large and tired." But my doctor just puts his hand on my shoulder, and says, "That's great. Everything is just how we'd hope, and you're doing wonderfully." "I like your spin, " I tell him, as I try to absorb his enthusiasm for the situation.

I have creative compulsions, that are interfering with getting the job done. For instance; I can't clean the house, because I want to totally re-do everything. I want the sofa upstairs and the bunk bed downstairs, and the dining table over there, and the computer moved that way. Since I can't accomplish any of this, laundry is sitting unfolded in the chair by the door. Reasonable, right?

My other impulse is to make a clever photo image, or write a touching anecdote to announce that we know the gender of the fetus. It's a girl. There. I've said it. We are more surprised than anything. Most of our happiness and bliss comes from knowing that all the amniocentesis results came back with everything looking good. Having three boys, we fully anticipated a fourth little man. We know the plumbing, and our guys are really great. There's comfort in the familiar. Having originated as a girl myself, I would think that having a girl person join the family would not come as such a foreign concept. It's not as though we are expecting a platypus.

Each of our children has brought something interesting, unique, individual, endearing and special to our experience as a family, and none of these has had much, if anything, to do with gender. I know our Papaya (it's temporary; like a working title) will have her own voice and method, her own needs and gifts, and we look forward to sharing everything with her.

Our dining table (the leg part).

Max sees things very differently. Because of Asperger's, we are often reminded that Max does not relate to us or his environment in a typical fashion. He is compulsive, rational to the point of being profoundly irrational, and he can seem annoyingly disconnected from what we perceive as reality. I have wondered how I might "see" what Max sees.

Last night I hung my camera around his neck and gave him a brief lesson in digital photography. He was enthralled. He took dozens of pictures and was very focused in his pursuit. Some subjects were photographed 5 or more times; he carefully made each shot progressively closer. Art is subjective, so are interpretations, but I think he reveals a lot about how he sees his surroundings and family.

Interesting...


Max's mom.


William's drawing model.

My mom thinks my last post was sad. She caught me off guard when we spoke, because she was extra concerned and wanted full disclosure about how I'm doing. She was worried, and I was already long past the minor whining I vented in my last blog. Yes, it is frustrating to know that my life is chaos, and that I haven't got the energy to accomplish everything on the to do list, so I gripe and moan a bit. But even when I am complaining, it is with a knowing grin. What do I know? I know I got myself in to this situation and I am happy I could. I know that messes get clean sooner or later, and then they get messy again. I know that in the whole wide world of possible problems, mine are very minor. I know that if I were really super hungry, sick, tired, or lonesome I could call a friend and find help. I know that my mom will always be my mom; it's nice to know that even from far away she stays very close.

Every day I think of all the things I am lagging on. Correspondence, that's a big one. And I also need to send things and anticipate special occasions. The list of neglected people and errands is huge and getting huger.

Today, for example, my mom forwarded a detailed email about family and what's going on, and I really should respond, but I am hungry. So, I go to the kitchen and discover that we are waaaay low on food, so I should go to the market. At the market I will become nauseous, because of too many smells and being hungry. Being nauseous and hungry I will buy a minimum amount of food; perhaps enough to get me through the day. I will return home exhausted from this ordinarily minor excursion. I will be too tired to patiently write a thoughtful email reply, and tomorrow my list of unfinished business will be even more huger, plus we will be low on food.

Do you know what I really want? Tacos. Mmmmm. Who remembers El Norteno, Ensenada? It's a taqueria among fifty, but the only one with a line. All of these little wooden stands sitting on the street, all of them selling hot tacos, and only one place with a crowd. I could inhale about a dozen of their tacos right now: "Salsa aparte, con guacamole, and keep 'em coming."

There's more... Fourth of July, and an anniversary, details about the boys and how they are doing. I could be writing a lot. I could be sharing details, news and tidbits, but I am hungry. Don't give up on me. Keep writing and inquiring. Don't be hurt if I forgot your cat's birthday, or never answered a beautiful letter sent to me on hand made stationary. I love you, and I love hearing from you. And I owe you one...

A Goof and A Spoof

My clever William has translated the June 16th Chickenblog entry from English to Spanish, and back to English, using a Google tool. The device is fun, and the results are hilarious:

Whoa! It is one week since fixed any thing. Happy Birthday to send the account, Alex and Hans, and my breast, and soon to Julia and Phil. And the day of the flag so never is behind us, mind on that. I am having hours of the clarity, and moments of the ambition. I paid accounts, and I sent them. The maximum, Alex and I finish coming inside from a rustic food of impromptou. We separated a leaf through the turf and ate dozens of substantial red plum trees. We stretched our legs, and we shook bitter holes of the plum tree inside to the fence, and enjoyed simple pleasures. The account and Alison sent pictures of his kittys, Gracie and George bitty. They watch pretty and diversion incredibly. The breast has been sending pictures touching of its garden and coast of Oregon; where they are abundant the berries and the maturation, and the flowers are everything around. Ruth and Corm are working as hardly as always in their new home. They will move in this summer. I need to call Grandma Nancy, and I say to him that we are... I well I wish that we closest lived a whole portion to one another one. It wanted to fall close and it visits.

Here's the original:

Whoa! It's been a week since I post anything. Happy birthdays to Bill, Alex and Hans, and my Mom, and soon to Julie and Phil. And Flag Day is behind us, so never mind about that.

I am having hours of clarity, and moments of ambition. I paid bills, and mailed them.

Max, Alex and I just came in from an impromptou picnic. We spread a sheet across the lawn and ate dozens of juicy red plums. We stretched our legs, and tossed tart plum pits in to the hedge, and we enjoyed simple pleasures.

Bill and Alison sent pictures of their bitty kittys, Gracie and George. They look incredibly cute and fun. Mom has been sending tempting pictures from their Oregon garden and seashore; where berries are plentiful and ripening, and flowers are all around. Ruth and Corm are working as hard as ever on their new home. They will move in this summer. I need to call Grandma Nancy, and tell her that we are well...I wish we lived a whole lot closer to one another. I'd like to drop by and visit.

Home Quest Part Forty-Two

I made my first away from the children venture. First ever. In thirteen years I've never had a night away from them. So, on Friday I was on a plane to Kona. The best part was seeing Ruth and Corm's progress on their house. It's becoming a home, complete with all their tasteful touches and beautiful work. Soon they will be permanent residents, and I think the relief of being done with all the construction and commuting will make it all worth while to them.


Ruth and Corm in the Big Kitchen.

I was in Kona to see about a house we thought we might call home...the details are tedious (much waffling and debating and going back and forth.) The property is definitely far more of a fixer-upper than we had anticipated. After seeing photos, Geoff agrees that we would be undertaking a major project. We could get in to a place that is ready to go; we call it Wayne's World. It is sufficiently large, and has a view. It is dated, but not offensive. The drawback is that Geoff would miss the opportunity of having a "major project." This is very much a question of mangos or guavas. Both are good fruits, but distinct. This is one of those paragraphs that is not saying enough, and yet saying too much. Bottom line: we don't know what to do.


At the farmer's market in Honokaa: We spent a lot of phone time trying to keep Geoff updated on housing options.

So I came home Monday, happy to see my family and cats. Happy to hear about all their adventures while I was away. Happy to be missed. Happy to know that where ever we end up living we will be together.