I came home to find a note on the counter from my friend Becky, "I thought it would be fun if you and I got matching tattoos!" (Although she used one t in the middle not two- it's not everyday either of us spells tattoo.) It said we should choose different colors is all. It was a few days after I learned the recall petitions have been turned in, which means there will be a recall election (if the signatures are all valid) in August for me, Tom, and Tresham. My response to the false charges on the petitions would not be a tattoo I would want my grandchildren to read.
Eowyn Ivey (Pulitzer Prize finalist thanks to her first novel, The Snow Child) will be speaking and reading from her second novel, To the Bright Edge of the World, tomorrow (Tuesday, May 30) night at 6:30 at the library. I wish I could hear her! But we have a borough assembly meeting and with the manager contract, the assembly seat appointment, and the third budget hearing this is not the meeting to skip, even if I am allowed three unexcused absences. (It could be grounds for a recall. Or maybe another one?)
A few days off (away from my desk) in the garden and hanging out with friends and family is just what I needed. I've been a little blue with the borough stuff and Song's death, and am relieved that his wife Amy didn't want to do the obituary this week. It's been a tough go for her and their three little ones, and the funeral is Monday at 3:00 at St. Luke church in Shoreline, near Seattle. If you do go, Amy says to wear "Easter best" whites and bright colors. There will be a memorial in Haines in about a month, she said, and she and the kids will be here.
Of course sunshine helps, as does the tourist season, and construction season (the lumberyard is busy again), and fishing season is right around the corner and the fishermen in our family are gearing up for another commercial salmon season. The singing birds, and the buzzing bees in the cherry blossoms are calling, 'the garden needs you!' and so the telephone will just have to ring away. (Leave a message.) The library dandelions can use some pulling before they flower so if you have a moment, tug away.
It's Mother's Day, the day my mother always dismissed as a scam by Hallmark in order to sell cards. She must be rolling her eyes at me for thinking of her today. Her grave is at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx, but my hunch, my faith, is that she's no more there than Duke Ellington is. He left music, she left me, and my sisters, and now my daughters and son and grand daughters and grandson, and if I may, I will include the dogs, since my mother always had a dog, or two. And books, and church, and a garden.
I know, I missed the health fair, and so have to hope that my daily tablespoon of cod liver oil is working, and the Hospice of Haines rummage sale did just fine without me too. ( 10,000! Wow! Thank you volunteers!) But I was able to babysit for James and Molly Friday, see JJ run her first marathon (and feel like a coach again, even though she needed none to finish in 3:14) and then spend a whole day with the little kiddos on the way home.
If this morning were any better I'd think I'd died and went to heaven-- the sun, the wind, the birds, thousands of gulls like noisy confetti on the flats at Lutak when we pedaled by before most humans were stirring-- and the eagles dozens of them -- one swooped so close to Chip's head I thought- well that's another good reason to wear a helmet.
Happy Tuesday is what Marnie used to say at the end of the every Morning Muscles Class (or Thursday, as that was the other early morning fitness session.) We don't meet for class anymore, for all kinds of good reasons it wasn't sustainable. I miss it, but have tried to adapt some, and I do include many of the lessons, both physical (planks) and emotional ( find your breath, clear your mind)-- I may have learned more about caring for my head and heart space in Morning Muscles than caring for my abs and quads. Plus, I liked that the group of women were a good mix from all over town.