House of Sand and Fog

Last Saturday, a fun, sunny session with Nick at the Jetty. Not as perfect as the Moonstone day, but clean and zippy – and cold. He didn’t last as long – Keep reading →

Everyone stepped up to create and partake in a memorial of Glenn’s life Saturday. Beautiful. Keep reading →

Bobby met Roger in painting class many years ago; Roger invited us down to his Stafford home and took Bobby out painting more than once. Horses, dogs, blackberries, swimming in the river, homemade pickles – a fine introduction to a part of Humboldt County we were yet to be familiar with. He was a kick to be around. We were schmoozing at the the Robert F. Kennedy gig when the whispers started going around the room. This is the third time I’ve had to deliver the news to my husband that someone he cares about has died. The first death belonged to a former roommate, driving too fast, crashed and killed. The second was the hardest: his beloved cousin passed away unexpectedly, a sudden heart attack and suddenly he was gone. Gone offstage from the theater of life as my friend would say. Keep reading →

The best time I’ve had in Moonstone in years. If I wrote about it in a timely manner, this post would be two weeks old and then some. The buoys read a mere 2-3 feet, but at 11-12 seconds, so I’d hoped Nick would be able to score some fun little waves. Any expectations for myself revolved around having fun with Nick having fun; I didn’t think the waves would have enough energy for me. Keep reading →

The obligations have flown fast and furious over the past several weeks – more so than usual. No time to blog or otherwise write outside of what work necessitates. I’m only able to right now because I’m home from the radio today; woke up with my frontal lobe throbbing and ibuprofen didn’t help. I took some loradine (sp? generic Claritin) and that seems to have eased the pain somewhat, so I’m wondering if this is going to be one of those rare years allergies hit me. I tried lying down with a cool cloth on my head, but my brain couldn’t calm down so here I am, attempting to empty my mind and feel better inside and out. Keep reading →

I filled in for Matt Doctor Matt last Saturday at KSHU. Since I get to be on the radio all the time, I rarely pick up shifts there – figure I should leave them for folks who don’t get much regular airtime. But I love Alternative Therapy, so this time, I jumped at the chance. Keep reading →

No time to post proper on this cold and blustery day – I’ve stayed home from our usual Westhaven-Trinidad Saturday morning jaunt to work (on my one day “off,” woe is me) – but while crunching some buttered and jammed toast, a quick skim of Salon provided this particularly interesting read:

The sorry performance of ABC anchors Charles Gibson and George Stephanopoulos in this week’s final Democratic primary debate should serve as a signal of the coverage to come. Playing gotcha with Democrats and patty-cake with Republicans will remain basic operating procedure for the mainstream media this year, no different from the past half-dozen presidential campaigns — except that the additional bias in favor of John McCain may make a bad situation worse.

And as Barack Obama should have learned during the debate’s first 45 minutes, if not before, the same fuzzy but obsessive focus on “character” that plagues Bill and Hillary Clinton will be turned on him with equal or greater ferocity by those who once claimed to admire him. He is now subject to the “Clinton rules,” which have long permitted pundits, editorialists and reporters to indict the former president and first lady for sins that other politicians, mostly Republican, may commit with impunity (see Gingrich, Newt, first, second and especially third marriage).

Again, whole read here.

One of Chelsea’s friends enlisted over a year ago. He stayed a night at our house while on a short leave. One of his jobs is searching through wreckage (read: dead bodies) for explosive devices. His arms and chest bear the names of friends killed in the war. I don’t know him well, but his family didn’t make time to see him while he was in town for a few days – as unfathomable to me as his experience in Iraq – so something is terribly wrong there. Keep reading →

One month after diagnosis, his body needed a nightly 7 units of Lantus to maintain.

Nineteen months later, we’ve just upped it to 14 units. They say 20 isn’t unusual for a kid his age and size, but with every increment our sense of vulnerability increases. The more insulin he needs, the more our dependence on a world outside our control is made evident. The idea of control exists only largely as illusion anyway, but a parent needs to believe she can somehow keep her children safe in the world. Diabetes – any disease or hurt one can’t fix – reveals the falsehood of that fantasy. Living with the reality day after day breaks my heart bit by bit.

Where did the days go?

Saturday. Stunningly warm and windless. Had to spend the morning in Westhaven anyway, so hit Sixth Ave. for an hour-and-a-half of small, fun waves. The only thing missing was Nick – would’ve been a perfect first day back after the winter break for him. But he and Bobby had stayed home for one reason or another. 

Lovely, though, just lovely. Now we have all this damn north wind all week long. Thank goodness for walks on the beach and aikido. The body still has a long way to go before fighting shape is obtained.