so my aspirations to start a new blog got blown under the rug this summer during the tornado-like apex of my saturn's return wherein my relationship was in turmoil, dissatisfaction with my job was intense and escapist desires were preoccupying my days.

so in what seems to be characteristic fashion for me, i'm welcoming back the familiar (same blog home just as i occupy the same city and same apartment), but the anecdotic company i offer now is just a little...different.

i enjoy reading posts from years ago...when i was new to oakland and new to city life...when i was hungry for experience and wanted to get tougher and wiser...when i was without community but knew, intuitively, that i'd someday have one...the perspective reminds me of growth i've made over the past eight years, and it's a testament to the fact that some things ...the really big changes like coming into our own...take time and struggle; we pay in pain, joy, disappointment, excitement, frustration, inspiration...

i feel on the brink of yet another big discovery...this one having to do with transience...perhaps really being able to accept that it is part of life to let go over and over again. which, if i can accept and really take to heart, will inform how i live my life...in that...i'll want to appreciate moments more...i'll expect less...and i'll feel more grounded in myself because although i am versatile, too...i am the most stable thing that i have. this puts the whole question of relationships up in the air...i have been striving for the security of a community and a partner, but if those can up and disappear at any time, how do i invest? how do i want to interact? an easy answer would be to close off, only offer part of myself, but i think i'd like to risk it.  let people in knowing they will have to go. really open up and be part of the ebb and flow...like water...flowing over, under, around, alongside...i think i'm finally strong enough.

i'd like to close the calendar year by offering gratitude. first, for my health. since septemeber, i have felt physically better than i have in a very long time...and i am so grateful for that. having struggled for years with a touchy gut, it has been amazing to be able to focus my energies elsewhere as it behaves...that has probably been one of the best things about this past year. i am also thankful for my wonderful family...we've gone through some growing pains this year, but with humor and unconditional love, we have seen those tough times through, and i feel blessed to be connected with them all. my current community...is wonderful. i have made some amazing friends this year and have deepened exisiting relationships. these people challenge me and support me and share with me and listen to me...and they have been instrumental in my spiritual growth. from walks around lake merritt to soup and salad dinners in my tiny apartment to early morning and late night conversations under the covers to drinks at wine bars to heartfelt snail mail packages to eloquent email exchanges and long phone conversations...in their presence and absence, these people have been so integral to me. thank you.

in years past, i would have said i don't know what the upcoming year holds. and to a degree, i don't. but i have some intentions for my days ahead...and i'm writing them down on a little piece of notebook paper, folding it up and taping it to the top of my west-facing window...manifest :)

here in my gardens, tiny, green sprouts are determinedly pushing their way up through the rich, dark soil; today's rains replenished their spirits, no doubt...
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the sugar snap peas, always quick out of the starting blocks, have started affectionately winding their delicate vines around the skinny bamboo sticks i placed in the ground to support them...
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the creamsicle nasturtiums stand proud an inch or so above ground, their flat and variegated leaves tipped nonchalantly at various angles to the sun...
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itty bitty buds are opening on the lemon verbena, releasing a light citrus perfume...
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the easter egg radishes have plumped and now their crowns of pink and violet are visible just above the soil line, enticing we gardeners to pull...
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the spinach holds raindrops in its dark green cupped leaves...
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the onions, like seasoned dancers, stretch their long and poised leaves toward the sky...
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the violas, whose flowers i picked last week to adorn a fresh carrot cake, (see below) have returned, their periwinkle and deep violet petals blowing delicately in the rain...

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the hope, the determination of life...so visible, so tangible...mark twain once said, "it's spring fever.... you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"

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like the tiny pea tendrils, we stretch our arms up and out, hoping to grasp something we can hang onto, if only for a short while, that will support us as we venture from the comforts we've established...to some place fresh, some place different, some place we cannot describe, but know innately we need to head towards...

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as a young child, i remember 'spring cleaning' in our house...my memories are undeniably intervwoven with written accounts of others' experiences i've since come across...but in my mind, i see windows creaking open, cool and fresh air rushing in, pushing out the stillness of winter; i see rugs being lifted from wooden floors and being beaten on the porch, settlements of the cold months drifting off into the warm rays of sunlight...i remember, at the days' end, the smell rain in the air and the feeling of impending thunderstorms...the expectation of great puddles into which i could jump...

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a more recently developed memory is that of true spring food: i hear asparagus being snapped at the roots and i taste the sweet juices that come from crunching into fresh pea pods; i see the familiar green, plastic baskets carrying ruby jewels that i bite slowly, deliberately, savoring them after a winter without such luxuries...

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spring is here, spring has arrived. the rains, the promises, the sense of urgency to venture into the unknown...and i welcome it, with open arms...accepting and expecting of storms, growth, and delicious experiences of simplicity...

I have lived as a garden rose,
It is the only life I’ve known.
I’ve felt the touch of tending hands,
I get my rain from a watering can.

Now from the time I was a seed,
I have had everything I need.
And I grew strong and I grew tall,
Until the day I saw past the garden wall.

Now tell me something little wildflower,
Can’t you make some room for me?
'Cause I will climb out of this garden,
And put my feet down in the weeds.

I always thought that my life was enough,
Till I saw your face so brilliant and so rough.
You were shining right back up at the whole sky,
Handing out smiles, to travelers passing by.

Now tell me something little wildflower,
Can’t you make some room for me?
'Cause I will climb out of this garden,
And put my feet down in the weeds.

And if an acorn becomes an oak tree,
Caterpillar makes a butterfly.
Oh, then tell me one good reason,
A rose should not become a weed, by and by.

'Cause don’t the sunshine lay the brightest,
On the shoulders of the wild?
And don’t the breeze lay the sweetest,
On the face of its own child?

And tell me something, little wildflower,
Have you made some room for me?
'Cause I will leave this wall forever,
A little wildflower I will be.
Hey, a little wildflower I will be.
Two little wildflowers we will be.

-kris delmhorst

i sit here covered in paint, restless because my interminable creative endeavor - of repainting my bathroom from a rainbow-paletted water and fire paradise to an earth-toned canvas accented by birds taking flight - has stolen yet another evening from me. it's 11:30 pm. there are globs of aqua paint stuck in my hair. my bathroom a terrible mess and sploches of kona brown and pure white are flung onto every surface imaginable including all my bath towels and now my shower curtain, too. i've never been one for curbing impulsivity, and it looks like things aren't going to change anytime soon...sigh!

i think it's a good thing for me to be back at work. my mind knows no limits when it comes to analyzing situations, and being on vacation for three weeks when my life feels to be in such a period of upheaval was a bit overwhelming. but i'm back in school, and remembering the reason i left my high-paying biotech career to earn 30% less doing at least 50% more work. i got hugs, smiles and requests for pomegranates today from the kids and i felt my heart warm up to fuschia from a period of violet-blue chilliness :)

i've spent a good part of this last week in my apartment. pulling things off the walls. painting over my bathroom mural with two fresh coats of white paint, musing about what i'll put on my new blank canvas. rummaging through drawers and the recesses of my closet and getting rid of things i've held onto for too long: articles i meant to read but never will, folded-up and well-worn photographs of old loves, dried flowers that were turning to dust...all the while, the air heavied with melancholy and raindrops streaming down the windows. inside my heart, a sadness, a loneliness, a little fear...mixed with anticipation and incurable hope. another cycle of change and upheaval has hit. these storms gust in so quickly, and they rearrange so forcefully. within these four walls, i've been letting go of the old to make room for the new while outside, the old and familiar have been fading, too.

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in turn with these feelings, my oldest friend in california is moving to italy in five days. although we've drifted apart in the past couple years, the memories of side-splitting laughter sessions, easter egg dying parties, spaghetti dinners at emmy's shack, punk rock sushi on rainy san francisco nights, and cat-sitting in the richmond hills are all washing over me. every now and again, we make friends who deeply impact our souls...friends who, even when they're gone, are woven into the fabric of our being...and in that fabric, betsy will forever be a strand of pink, sparkly yarn...colorful and unexpected.

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but the ebb and flow, and these departures make us each more open to new arrivals...

eeeny-weeny-banana-nut-muffins

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easily either vegan or dairy-licious, these tinies were a hit at brunch yesterday. since i just got back from a couple weeks in chicago, my refrigerator is bare and my fruit and veggie hanging basket has only a few cloves of garlic in it...so making muffins outta fresh produce was out of the question. luckily, i hid some browning bananas in the freezer (just threw em in! didn't peel em, but you can) a few weeks ago, so i thawed them out and rustled up the other easy ingredients from my cabinets and spice rack. mmm!

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1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup margarine or butter, at room temperature

3 very ripe bananas, mashed well

2 cups whole wheat pastry flour*

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/3 cup vanilla soy milk, mixed with 1 teaspoon lemon juice (to curdle)**

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon allspice

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped

*you can also use all-purpose unbleached flour, but decrease the soy milk or buttermilk from 1/3 cup to 1/4 cup

**you can substitute buttermilk here for the soy milk and lemon juice

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Preheat the oven to 350 F. Grease two mini-muffin tins with margarine or butter. Sift together the flour, baking soda, salt and spices. Cream together the margarine or butter and the sugars. Add the bananas, soy milk and vanilla. Add the wet ingredients to the dry. Mix well. Pour batter into mini tins. Bake until muffins are slightly golden on top, about fifteen minutes. Your house or apartment should smell delicious now...so go ahead and try a muffin! Mmm! :)