One thing about blogging-- time sure flies in between hypothetical posts.

You see, I had a post for you-- it even had a title (okay, okay-- you know me too well, it ONLY had a title) but the title was all I needed to be able to sit down here and let loose. The title was my catapault.

Problem is, I'm living at the edge of a waterfall these days and just when I think I'm gonna tell you all about the eddy that has built up behind a few rocks and a clump of leaves-- whoosh. I've dropped down three levels and am now floating in a giant pool where there's nothing really to comment on except to relive the drop over and over and go-- man, that's why people pay good money for rollercoasters. What a rush to the head.

What I thought I would be telling you about was my latest lessons in humility-- how if I thought I was going to leave this planet with a shred of hubris still intact it seems my higher guide has signed me up for the "brazilian"-- there will be no trace left of hubris on the surface of this soul, I assure you.

a clothesline for Marilyn

How it is exactly that my brain comes up with these lofty plans and expects to manifest them with a mere flip of my wrist but without any practical experience and then, has the gall to be unprepared when it turns out that my oh so flippant flip of the wrist actually turns on the fan that will spray the room with, um, rabbit pellets-- well, let's just say, my brain, she should not be driving the bus.

My brain should be parked under an apple tree and consulted only on questions pertaining to how long a bagel should remain in the toaster, best way to pour hot water over a tea bag, and other such things. Under no circumstances should my brain be allowed to take on major, collaborative projects most especially when they involve overseas shipments.

Isn't that right, Henry?

HENRY: Oh noo, don't be pulling my name into this. I made the good choice this lifetime. I'm a dog. My biggest challenge is deciding which side of the road to walk down.

HENRY: I'm thinking I'm gonna walk over there where the sunflowers are.

So yeah, it's been quite dramatic in its ups and downs.

Some days feel so incredibly good it doesn't seem possible to soak it all in. Other days, well-- other days make me think of William Wallace right after they have disemboweled him but just before they begin drawing and quartering him-- that acute moment right there.

Mostly I am trying to see and understand how I create these situations and learn all I can so that I can get more of a 90/10 balance . . 90% wowza gold / 10% whaddyagonna do it's life suck it up.

In other news, my niece Lauren came BACK again last weekend<--! and helped me transform the little porch that is the entrance to my apartment. The space was quite stultifying and filled with spiders and god knows what.

Imagine a dark, (oh so VERY dark) pine green paint and then imagine that paint on every surface, floor, stairs, bannister, walls--- stultifying, yes?

Then, imagine your darling niece comes up and after a rousing session with broom, shop vac and a few horrifed screams thrown in for good measure- spiders and whatnot are gone and fresh paint is slapped into place.

Voila--- white white white with a bit of blue, some soft green stair treads and a painted rug.

It's all good--- everything is happening exactly as it is supposed to and I am gonna get to my 90/10 . . or maybe 85/15. Either way, it's all part of something I don't even understand-- my job is just to keep showing up and keep seeing all that is possible. All that is beautiful. (And yes, keep my brain parked in that chair under the appletree, strictly forbidden to launch any new zany capers-- a sort of country-style house arrest, as it were).

Nobody gets a life manual (isn't that right, Thea?) even if some people might look to us as if they are just sailing along like lucky ducks. We're all muddling through as best we can.

Some of us ( meaning me<---, obvs) are just putting a bit more mud in the muddling, that's all.

But look!-- tiny pink flowers that peek out from under my porch steps.

And finally, a place for my sun, moon and stars which has never had a home (just sat inside my studio closet for years) and now looks like it was made for that exact space where it now sits-- which is at the bottom of the landing of my stairs as I walk outside each morning.

Bisous, E

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