Tenderness and the Blueberry

Coconut cake with fresh blueberries. All organic. All VEGAN. All cruelty-free and you can bet it is good.
And yes, I made it and the lil dogs helped. Especially Charm. They are turning into really good bakers!

Oh Facebook and all related blogs!! I have spent a day or two away from you, a week angry with you, and more than a little time vowing to never post again. And why? Why is this so you ask? Well . . . I will tell you! Listen up, OK? Aside from my constant checking of stats and worrying about saying this wrong thing or that wrong thing or the way the entire process demands that my grasp of punctuation and grammar take a back seat to passion and ranting or the way oh for gawd's sake, there are so many of us saying the same damn things! Over and over! The sun on my face, the wind blowing my hair, the birds in the trees, this sunset, that cloud spread, the crows, the street sounds, the nice guy at the rite-aid counter, the idiot blocking all lanes of traffic to check his cell phone, solstice already finished, fiesta looming its beery head. Sigh. I am quiet now. For a moment anyway. I guess what I am saying is that there comes a time when life simply must change because I make it change-not just react to changes- and this is one of those times. I am pretty damned sure, anyway. 10 hour workdays for the next two weeks and then free floating. Unattached. All children way grown and launched successfully, happily, and brilliantly into their own lives. Me. My three lil doggies. A house bursting with art. A museum of memories. All of it is going, going, gone. A wealthy landlord raising my rent. My fatigue at living month to month sets me off in search of new adventures. Is it worth it-this resurrection? Re-creation of a most painful and unsure kind? So many of us writing, posting, letting our online world know what we eat and with whom and where, why we should carry guns, what music is best, why the health care plan is a bad idea, the beauty of gardens and flowers, animals lost and found, children graduating and traveling, our faces greying but still smiling, distant but somehow superficially connected by this cyber umbilical.  I had a wonderful poster of a dark eyed beauty from Chicago, a street kid, and it was hung in my classroom with the title of "tenderness" and I think that word is a valuable one and precious. I challenged myself to rise from the flames and spend the rest of my time in a worthy pursuit, one which brings me close to people in the service of tenderness and I think I have finally hit upon an idea. Resumes will be flying and there will be a few more cakes like this one before I have the yard art sale of the century and part with my California possessions and strike out for uncharted territory.  Will I miss the pavement I have dog-walked on for 17 years? Will I miss the sun-light slatting just so through my front blinds? Will I miss the families of doves and crows and woodpeckers that have become my constant companions, the jacarandas hanging thickly purple up and down my street, the sounds of parties and dancing from the corner restaurant, and my best views from years and years of downtown walking? Oh yeah. I will miss them all like a giant crying storm all the way up the coast. But I know this move is right. I am going to be strong with myself. I am going to be unsentimental with myself. But mostly I am going to be tender with myself. Even in their cells, the prisoners must quake a little before their locked doors open. No one told me that the hours of free time wished only as moments when my children were growing would come and sit like heavy stones in my lap one day. Nobody told me that there can be something suffocating about solitude and that living inside your own head can be more like camping out in tornado alley with trashcans than a perfect zen retreat.  No one showed me the way to live these years with little money but much joy, little security but much trust, and little direction but much energy. Joan hangs around my neck and goes with me everywhere and I am always reassured by her courage and focused passion and determination to believe what she knew was right. We have eaten up the miles, I have breathed away the days and oh my friends I have burned that candle at both ends until only a wee stump of wax is left. And yet I believe that with enough cake, much tenderness, and the love and support of my beloved children I am going to stand on the shore of a Brave New World and WOW. That will be cool. Love always!!