Marge Piercy - A New Love of Mine

To Be of Use

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

Marge Piercy



The Woman in the Ordinary

The woman in the ordinary pudgy downcast girl
is crouching with eyes and muscles clenched.
Round and pebble smooth she effaces herself
under ripples of conversation and debate.
The woman in the block of ivory soap
has massive thighs that neigh,
great breasts that blare and strong arms that trumpet.
The woman of the golden fleece
laughs uproariously from the belly
inside the girl who imitates
a Christmas card virgin with glued hands,
who fishes for herself in other's eyes,
who stoops and creeps to make herself smaller.
In her bottled up is a woman peppery as curry,
a yam of a woman of butter and brass,
compounded of acid and sweet like a pineapple,
like a hand grenade set to explode,
like goldenrod ready to bloom.


Marge Piercy

One of the ways I want to spend my retirement:

"Free" - Zac Brown Band

So we live out in our old van
Travel all across this land
Me and you

We'll end up hand in hand
Somewhere down on the sand
Just me and you

Just as free
Free as we'll ever be
Just as free
Free as we'll ever be

We'll drive until the city lights
Dissolve into a country sky
Just me and you

Lay underneath the harvest moon
Do all the things that lovers do
Just me and you

Just as free
Free as we'll ever be
Just as free
Free as we'll ever be
and ever ---- be


No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
All we need is love


We're free as we'll ever be
Just as free
Free as we'll ever be

So we'll live out in our old van
Travel all across this land
Me and you



Want to be in my caravan?

Travels with my Daughter

My little girl dresses herself for bed every night.

She's in love with fashion and funky accessories, so the deal has been that I dress her during the day, but she gets to dress herself for bed. In this - there are no rules. Some nights she wears dresses, some nights, cute little skirts and tops. Rarely, does she actually wear pajamas. She likes to set out her bedtime ensembles when she gets home from school, as though her dreams are going to be fabulous journeys for which she must dress the part.

She is girly. She is extravagant. She sparkles.

I seem to be traveling my own magical highways these past few weeks. My usual bland sleep has been transformed into grand expeditions. I wake up with cobwebs of dreams at the edge of my memory and the sweet, but unsettling, emotions that accompanied them. I like to think that my girl and I are living delicious and secret lives in our sleep every night.

It takes a few years off my old soul when I go on heart-racing adventures, or fly the nighttime skies in my slumbers. I’ve been waking in love, in anticipation, in laughter, and in nostalgia – like I’ve shaken off layers of myself and found my center again.

I don’t know if it’s something I’ve eaten. Or maybe it’s all the exercise. Whatever is causing these unusually vivid dreams, I’m enjoying this season of my life and I hope they continue.

We all need our secrets, our dreams, our wishful thoughts. Mine have been visiting me nightly, reminding me not to discard them.

Maybe Addison’s are as well.
I can only wonder where she’s going each night when I tuck her in to sleep.

Graphics were found here: http://graphicsfairy.blogspot.com

As Per Usual

As per usual, the busier I am and the more I have to do, the more I choose to add to my plate. Today was our first day back to work for "meetings" before the kids come back to school next week. With getting up early, getting kids ready for daycare, going to meetings all day, planning for the year, having to pack for a day away from home again each morning, and dragging in the door drained of all energy, I felt compelled to do a little crafting. (something I didn't have time for during summer vacation. Go figure.) So I took an old pair of Addison's jeans that still fit her waist, but had gotten too short to be cool, and we improvised. Since Addison is all about accessories, we made a hair clip to go with.

We'll have to get a better top now, since the rest of the outfit was free! I had plenty of scraps to choose from and alligator clips sitting around. This is so simple, I found myself wanting to rip up her perfectly fine jeans just to make another skirt. Since this was all about "recycling," though, I suppose that would be counterproductive....

Apparently still a cavewoman when it comes to home security

I'm a feminist.
I believe that women can do anything men can do.
In fact, a recurring debate in our household involves my husband's assertion that a woman couldn't handle being on the "Deadliest Catch" crab boat and my equally passionate assertion that a woman could, should, and would kick butt while doing it.

Anyhow.

It turns out that when the man is out of the house on a guys' only camping / quad trip, I start to feel a tad bit like a helpless cave woman. We live in the woods, so it's not entirely wimpy of me to be nervous because if I screamed, there would literally be no one within earshot.
Admittedly, I have a bit of an imagination. I think, however, anyone would get a little jumpy when they're sitting all quiet, watching a movie late at night, when something LARGE walks by the windows, throwing a huge shadow seen out the corner of your eye. So far, it's always been a deer or two, and not an axe murderer or Sasquatch, (knock on wood.) but that makes it no less creepy. So, I may be able to do most anything a man can do, but I think it's still in my cave woman nature to want one around for home security. You never know when you might need someone to club a saber tooth or a woolly mammoth for you, after all.

Actually, 4 years ago we were victims of a good old fashioned home ransacking. I came home from work one Friday to find our house, yard, and sheds completely trashed. It took a few slow seconds for everything to sink in as I saw our belongings strewn about the yard and the door that had literally been kicked in. It was a very scary few moments as I wondered if the bad guys were still around. As we waded through the ruins and tried to take inventory, it was obvious that we lived in a place remote enough for the lovely thugs to take their time as they stole every single item that was worth money, and searched for anything we might have hidden. (they tore apart beds, mattresses, dressers, filing cabinets, linen closets, etc, etc, etc. They even stole our thawing lasagna out of the fridge, as well as some sloppy joe mix!)

So, while the man is out of town, I circle the wagons each night and lock up like it's fort Knox.

Chair against bedroom door, check:

Mace and telephone, check:

Trusty guard dog to defend the children and I, check:

(yes, we all sleep in the same room when H.W.O.C.M.- home without cave man.)

Laugh all you want, but if any beasties find their way into my nest, Ranger and I are prepared to kick ass.

In other news:

Falling off the Shame Wagon

I've had a shame issue for years.

So much of who I am and who I wish to be was dependent on circumstances that I couldn't always control.

So much of my self worth, inspiration, and drive came from a steady stream of powerful coaching, fabulous teachers, and spicy friends.

I was always fed great stories and was surrounded by brilliant minds and larger than life athletes. I was around people with a zest for life and an unbridled quest for adventure. I was incredibly lucky to be fed a steady diet of fire and passion in my youth. My transformation from a painfully shy childhood to a loud and satisfying coming-of-age arrived with a lot of hard work and a lot of help.

The problem came when I saw myself changing. And suddenly, in the post-college world, the steady stream of motivational videos and tales ran dry. The opportunities to make myself proud came to an abrupt end with my last great knee injury.

What did I do when I feared that those around me saw me in a different light? Well, I saw myself in a different light as well.

When I let an abusive and empty marriage to a high school boyfriend end, I was terrified at what my friends would think. So I avoided them.

When I became less of an athlete and more of a normal woman, with a normal body, I was so uncomfortable with myself that I didn't want anyone who knew me then to see me now. So I avoided them.

And since then, I've had a daily struggle in condoning who I am with what I look like and how I live. What do you do, for instance, if you felt like a butterfly that somehow got shoved back into your cocoon?

How do you live without steady doses of this?:

And I guess the answer is that you just DON'T. Even though I'm not in the habit of kicking butt on the track anymore, and even though I may appear to live a more subdued existence, I'm still the same person on the inside. The trick is to honor myself by no longer fearing that others may not see it. I'm still Rachae. I'm still on fire inside (and have the faded tattoo to prove it). I'm still full of dreams, goals, and adventure, and I love the life that I have and the path that I'm on. And if there's anything positive in this epiphany of mine, it's that I now know that maybe we're all like this. Maybe the most calm and collected looking moms are all really rock stars or rebels or mountain climbers in their hearts and they're just hoping someone comes along and notices.

I know I am.

And I know that if no one notices, I'll be just fine.

I'm going to continue my journey with a lot more looking forward and a lot less looking down. I'll find a way to be who I am with a little bit of who I was thrown in for good measure. There are still mountains to climb and races to run. I still need to feel some dirt on my feet and some wind in my hair and I definitely have a lot more bumps and bruises and adventures to experience!

I'm JUMPING off the shame wagon and don't plan on returning anytime soon.

20 miles = a million smiles

Janelle and I set out to do our 20 miles this past Saturday. I was a bit apprehensive, but knew that with company and with the scenic route, we would be ok.

Much like last time, though, the weather was starting to look a little ominous when we were about 6 miles in....

Mom, our trusty groupie, made us peanut butter balls for the journey... but when we took them out for a quick calorie boost, we were amazed at the transformation. Our peanut butter balls were now a peanut butter blob. Still tasted good, though, so we trekked on.

We picked up our pace when we noticed the nothing Creeping up from behind

When we realized that it was hopeless; we were going to be overtaken by a twister a least, and the nothing at worst, Janelle took off through the fields to avoid sure death.

She didn't get very far before the hail struck.

And then the winds started howling.

So I held on for dear life and was almost blown away.

seriously.

After the mini-storm passed us by, we had a couple of miles of blue sky. Notice that I said a couple of miles. A few more glances over our shoulders showed us that ANOTHER storm was on the way. This one was even more intense than the last.

So I asked God, "WHY?! WHY? Oh, for the love.... WHY?!"

The hail actually HURT. We had 2 kind folks stop and try to rescue us, but we nonchalantly shrugged off their help and dug in to our inner amazon strength to forge on.

(this is Janelle channeling her inner amazon...)

Here, you can actually see the streaks of hail coming down:

You can see that this cow is clearly thinking, "What the.....?" as we hustled by.

a patch of blue sky at last!

Mom and dad appeared with our kiddos, a platter of warm chocolate chip cookies, and ice water. Then they drove ahead to leave water at a couple of locations several miles further. How cool is that?!

and then a THIRD story was gearing up at our backs.

You can literally see the dark clouds rolling on the bottom right:

We ran the last mile and climbed into mom's car before this final storm could have it's way with us. Nothing makes you appreciate nature like getting out in it for a few hours with no shelter!