A Year Later, More Resolutions

Well, I learned how to crochet and make truffles. Some of the other resolutions still stand to be resolved. Like blogging more often. Ahem. I seem to have withdrawn into a very introspective, non-blogging mode.

So that's what New Years are for, right? Re-resolving? So, among re-committing to cold-frame and sprouting (not personally), here are a few more resolutions:

- Expand my yoga practice. This includes going more often (at least 1x a week) and in practicing some of the philosphy of yoga, particularly the yamas and niyamas
- Go to bed earlier, get up earlier, and take the dog for a walk in the morning. Sounds like 3 resolutions, but they really are all connected. Speaking practically, I have to do each on in sequence if I'm going to get any of them done. Really.
- Learn how to make my own cheese.
- Adopt more minimalist and mindfully-downsizing habits. Still too much clutter, at least in the computer corner of the house.
- Bike more, spring through autumn.
- Learn to woodwork. (Will draft DH to tutor me.)

That's about it, for now. Oh, and I'm going to be appointed to the city planning commission (small city, suburb of SLC), so we'll see what surprises that throws at me. I suspect I'll have to do a bit more studying on environmentally-minded, progressive city planning strategies. Hum....

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Yama

Yama is social behavior, how you treat others and the world around you. These are moral principles. Sometimes they are called the don'ts or the thou shalt nots. There are five yamas:

• Nonviolence (ahimsa). Do no harm to any creature in thought or deed. In his book Autobiography of a Yogi, Paramahansa Yogananda asks Mahatma Gandhi the definition of ahimsa. Gandhi said, "The avoidance of harm to any living creature in thought or deed." Yogananda asked if one could kill a cobra to protect a child. Gandhi maintained he would still hold to his vow of ahimsa, but added, "I must confess that I could not serenely carry on this conversation were I faced by a cobra."
• Truth and honesty (satya). Tell no lies. Cheating on your income taxes falls into this category.
• Nonstealing (asteya). Do not steal material objects (a car) or intangibles such as the center of attention or your child's chance to learn responsibility or independence by doing something on his own.
• Nonlust (brahmacharya). Don't worry; this is not a call to celibacy. Many yogis of old were married and had families of their own. The person who practices brahmacharya avoids meaningless sexual encounters and, as the well-known teacher B.K.S. Iyengar puts it, "sees divinity in all."
• Nonpossessiveness (aparigraha). Free yourself from greed, hoarding, and collecting. Do you really need more shoes, another car, or to hog the conversation every time you see your friends? Make your life as simple as possible.

Niyama

Niyama is inner discipline and responsibility, how we treat ourselves. These are sometimes called observances, the do's, or the thou shalts. There are five niyamas:

• Purity (shauca). Purity is achieved through the practice of the five yamas, which help clear away the negative physical and mental states of being. Keep yourself, your clothing, and your surroundings clean. Eat fresh and healthy food. The next time you joke about treating your body like a temple, think of this niyama.
• Contentment (santosha). Cultivate contentment and tranquility by finding happiness with what you have and who you are. Seek happiness in the moment, take responsibility for where you are, and choose to grow from there.
• Austerity (tapas). Show discipline in body, speech, and mind. The purpose of developing self-discipline is not to become ascetic, but to control and direct the mind and body for higher spiritual aims or purposes.
• Study of the sacred text (svadhyaya). Study sacred texts, which are whatever books are relevant to you and inspire and teach you. Education changes a person's outlook on life. As Iyengar says, a person starts "to realize that all creation is meant for bhakti (adoration) rather than for bhoga (enjoyment), that all creation is divine, that there is divinity within himself and that the energy which moves him is the same that moves the entire universe."
• Living with an awareness of the Divine (ishvara-pranidhana). Be devoted to God, Buddha, or whatever you consider divine.

New Year's Resolutions, etc.

I really am very inconsistent about journal writing. They say blogging is the new journaling, and in some ways it is, although I personally would not feel comfortable posting some things that I would write in my journal. It's just too public. Regardless, I'm... intermittent about either blogging or journaling, despite efforts to have my blogging supplement or make up for lapeses in journaling.

But it is the first of the year, time for resolving to do better, and I am hoping to write either on my blog or in my journal at least once a week. I missed last week, so I'm 50% for the year so far--we'll see how it goes.

About the family: Apollo has been keeping busy at work. Last year there were a few months where some smallish mistakes cost the company big--ate up most of the year's profits, so I understand--and those mistakes happened primarily during the night shift. So Apollo and the general manager decided it would be a good idea to have Scott work two evening shifts a week, temporarily, to train some of the night staff. So far, it seems to be working--mistake costs the past month are a fraction of what they have been. Let's hope it keeps up.

Marigold has been very busy singing, running, doing puzzles, diapering & mothering dolls, finding creative uses for chairs, and exploring just about everything. I've been emptying drawers and moving their contents, to keep her out of them, only to have her move on to other, less-accessible drawers and finding even more interesting things... that I don't want her to find. But that's life with a toddler, right? I'm trying hard to take it in stride and keep a step or two ahead of her, or at least adapt quickly. She's also picking up all kinds of words: recent favorites include "zamboni" (which lives at the "hockey rink"), and sarcophogus (pronounced something like "sah-cof-cah-gus"). She's also a big fan of her new snowpants and snowcoat.

Me, I'm just trying to make sure I stay balanced. I'm back to babysitting Broom during the weekdays, which is good for keeping me and the 2 toddlers on a sort of routine, but it also limits my ability to go out and about. Which isn't all bad--I've been trying to reduce my driving time for ecological reasons, even after gas prices dropped--but I definitely need to get outside more and spend more time with other adults during the day. I also need a regular exercise routine. Occasional walks with the kids just isn't cutting it, right now--though I'm hoping I'll be able to do more when the weather gets warmer--bike to the park, and all that. It's just a pain trying to drag a wagon of 2 toddlers through slushy snow and have plowed/shoveled streets and sidewalks. Taking them in the back yard is great for them, but I don't get much out of it except some fresh air (unless there's an inversion on) and some sunshine.

Started watching Battlestar Galactica. Bro. 1 lent me season 1, which Apollo has been re-watching with me, and we finished it up last week. Just started season 2 last night. It's very interesting, though sometimes I feel that they're sacrificing character integrity (as in, that behavior was out of character for that character) for plot ideas. Also, there's only so much darkness and violence I can handle these days, so I prefer to space out when we watch it. We usually watch 2 or 3 episodes in a sitting.

I tried making La Truffade last night. I've got a goal to make one new recipe each month this year and I've got this great new cookbook, The Country Cooking of France. La Truffade is a fairly simple potato, bacon & cheese dish, but it's done a little differently than what I'm used to, so I managed to burn it. I also made a mistake picking up the wrong cheese, so it was full of parmesan and cheddar, instead of gruyere. I felt like I screwed it all up, but it was mostly tasty anyway (except for the burnt stuff on the bottom) and I think I could make this a great standby with a little practice.

Other resolutions:
- learn to crochet (Lisa, looking for help from you on this one)
- exercise at least 5x per week
- make cold frames, to extend my garden's growing season, and make a winter sqaush storage area, so that I can eat squash all winter long.
- learn how to keep sprouts going in a north & east facing kitchen
- take a class; options include: pottery, basic car maintenance/mechanics, botany, macro econ, political science, Mandarin or Russian
- learn how to make chocolate truffles

An Ark for Baby Grace

Lisa set up a donation fund in Grace's name for Heifer International. It's comforting to know that Grace's short, little life will have an impact on so many, and will help hungry children worldwide to have more food security. Click on the ark below to join Grace's donation team.

Baby Grace

I can't tell you how much I miss this little girl and grieve for her. My water started leaking at 20 weeks and Grace was born at 22 weeks. She was too small for them to attempt to intervene--the risk of disability and a short life was too high for that age gestation. She was born July 19th and lived for about 15 minutes, we think. My poor, poor baby.

What hurts most, I think, is the loss of all that potential life. She was perfectly healthy, as far as we know, and would probably have been a healthy, happy child. Who grew into a healthy happy adult. It just seems so cosmically unfair. And, of course, it hurts that I had so little time with her, so little time to get to know her. Apollo and I held her for most of the day before giving her to the man from the funeral home. Less than a week later, we dressed her and put her in her coffin. The next morning, we said a final goodbye and buried her. Just writing about it, 6 weeks later, makes me cry. I wanted her so very badly. I wanted her in my life, I wanted to love her and protect her and watch her grow. I wanted to be friends. But all that was snatched away from us both--from us all--and we'll never know why my water started leaking, why her chance at life dripped away with the fluid.

Sometimes I wonder if there was anything I could've done differently, or whether something I did do, in ignorance, caused a problem, or if there was just some crazy coincidence of conditions that happened to be a recipe for disaster. So there is regret, sort-of, a conditional regret, I suppose. But not guilt. Because I didn't know. I know some things now that I wish I'd known then, and hindsight always helps. I could've been more careful after the spotting started. But I didn't know. It's horrible to think that ignorance could cause a disaster like this, take away an innocent life that barely got to live, but I know it happens. It's better than knowledge causing it--that would mean premeditation, responsibility, accountability. But it still hurts.

And yet, on the bright side, she never knew sorrow, she never knew suffering. So many children do. Instead, she's my little angel who gleamed for me momentarily in this life. I hope to live so that I can meet her again after this life, so that we can have all that we missed out on in this one. Especially hugs and kisses, giggles and more hugs.

I miss my baby girl. Oh how I miss her.

My New Love

Be still my heart:

They're Not Weeds

Or, Speaking of Poppies....

So, yesterday I was putting Marigold down for a nap. We were halfway to Dreamland when there was an abrupt knock at the front door. Thinking it was a friend of mine, who I'd promised some swiss chard, I got up and went to the door, Marigold close behind.

It was not my friend. It was the city Code Enforcement officer. He was stopping by because my yard was overgrown with "weeds" and grass. Well, it is true that the lawn needed mowing. It had been about 2 weeks, one week having been unusually busy for both me and Apollo, and the next week having been very rainy (something that contributed to the height of the grass, I think). And I had very nearly mowed the lawn during a break in the rain, but Apollo told me not too, because the grass was wet. Apollo seems to regard the lawn has 'his' expertise (though I'm the one who's been mowing it this year), so I let it go. However, had I followed my instincts, I might not now be facing Mr. Code Enforcement. To whom I frankly admitted that the lawn needed mowing and told him that I would take care of it. (I did, just as soon as Marigold fell asleep.)

Of course, the other problem was the presence of 3 foot "weeds" in my park strip and around the yard. Well, it happens that I have a taste for wildflowers and I've been trying to live my environmentalist convictions by "ripping my strip" and creating a more waterwise yard. Each time he gestured toward my weeds, I told him, "those aren't weeds, they're wildflowers." I even named them for him. But he persisted in calling them weeds, even after admitting that he was 4 days new on the job, having been transferred from the police beat, and that he wasn't sure which plants were allowed in park strips.

To be fair, he was very nice about the whole thing. Part of his niceness seemed to stem from the fact that he had apparently been in the posse that responded when our dog bit Marigold in the face last year and he felt bad for us--he certainly remembered all the details... AND our house. Sigh. Anyway, the form he gave me was not technically a 'warning' nor was it in any way a citation. You might call it a 'friendly reminder from your neighborly city code enforcement department'. And we parted with me promising to take care of the lawn and him planning to look up the details of my "weeds". (They're not weeds, they're wildflowers.) (!!!) He also told me that if I didn't hear back from him within a couple of days, to give him a call and remind him. Right-o. I'll put that at the top of my to-do list.

He left, I put Marigold down for her (rather late) nap, and I went outside and mowed the damn lawn. Front and back. Now maybe I can be a respectable citizen again.

Baby Doll Whisperings

Apollo had to work tonight, so I put Marigold to bed myself. Usually we both do and the routine goes as follows:

- turn off the light
- light the candle and start singing the Candle Song
- rub vitamin E oil onto Marigold's scar
- sing Now the Day is Over
- pray
- sing 2 lullabies
- have Marigold blow out the candle
- hugs and kisses all around
- put Marigold in bed
- sing Baloo Balerie (another lullaby)
- in-bed kisses, hugs, good night wishes, and I love you

We do this every night, whether it's one parent doing it or two, and as a routine or rhythm, it works very well. She knows precisely what to expect--if you forget any detail of the sequence, she'll be sure to remind you--and it helps her unwind and really get ready for bed and sleep.

Tonight, while we were singing the after-prayer lullabies, Marigold was sitting on my lap and her baby doll was sitting on hers. I heard her whispering and I looked down at her. She was holding the doll's hands together and whispering "candle... candle..." to the doll. Just like we sometimes whisper to her, "look at the candle". It just made my heart melt. What a darling little girl.

Six Weeks

I wrote this poem after I'd been dating Apollo for over 6 weeks. I'd never made it through a relationship that long before, so it was a milestone--and obviously there was something a little different about this guy. It's hardly a masterpiece, but it evokes some feelings of that time, like remembering a smell you associate with something from the past.

Six weeks ago I stumbled to this garden,
thinking it a playground but unsure
that castles in the sand would still stay barren
or weedy marigolds in cracks meant something more.
I saw some rubber swings with weathered chains,
creaking slightly in the stilling breeze;
nearby were quiet puddles left from rain,
occasionally disturbed by summer leaves.
I stayed and found wild jasmine in the grass
and pungent thyme entangled in the hedge;
I watched a blue-green fly whose dizzied path
entrapped my gaze, its glittering wings widespread.
Six weeks ago I stumbled to this place
and found in it an unexpected grace.