If this is heaven, there must be cheesecake...

Last night was my womens' meeting's semi-annual potluck. As usual, Bev made her amazing pork roast. The rest of us supplied salads, side dishes, and of course, desserts. That is what I always bring, because there are lots of wonderful bakeries around that make it for me. I mosied over to Costco after school, and sidled up to the cheesecake division of their bakery, and there it was: Key lime cheesecake. Now, I adore key lime pie, and cheesecake, well, let's just say if I was diagnosed with a deadly disease, that is all I would eat for the rest of my short life. My mythology teacher says some scholars think ambrosia was not a drink, but something solid. That would be cheesecake. I must admit, last night's offerings were very healthy. We had edadame salad, and sauted tofu, and roasted veggies with our pork roast. And left room for the three desserts: an amazing chocolate walnut meringue, a mocha refrigerator cake with apricot filling and whipped cream frosting, and the aforementioned key lime cheesecake. I was pretty pooped and uber-hungry when I arrived. After the dessert, the sugar high kept me up till midnight. But it was worth it. I brought home the last piece, which I consumed only a moment ago. Burp.

The other side of the mountain, finally...

Okay. Paper on Schiele is done and turned in. Mbuti project is done, critiqued and hanging on the wall in the hall of the Art Building. And the project on the P and J myths from Genesis, the contradictory and highly discriminatory stories of the creation of Adam, and in particular, his gal, is finished and properly presented to the class. I was the first to do that, got extra credit, and it went pretty well, not the best, but not the worst, either. And now, I am ready to fall into bed for the entire weekend and not think of anything. Except maybe beginning to study for next quiz in art history. And make a new collage for an abstract painting in oil painting class. And read the Hymn to Aphrodite in the Homeric Hymns. And mow the lawn. And wrap my daughter's graduation present. And clean the house. And do the laundry. And walk the dog. And make a whole bunch of phone calls, like to the DMV to make an appointment to renew my driver's license. Okay, that's about all for now. Luckily, I have a three day weekend to accomplish all this. It will all be over in a month, just one little month. Groan.

Ta Da!

I hired my friend the handy dandy landscape person came over recently and together, we tamed the jungle in the backyard. Only took three hours, with frequent breaks for water and schmoozing. I weeded and trimmed, she mowed, a major feat as it was really overgrown. Got war wounds wrestling with the blackberries that have taken over the north forty, and a little color on my nose and shoulders. It was so much fun, I have been ambling out there everyday and doing a little more. I planted vegetables! This has been my plan for three years, and it finally happened. None of the little suckers have died yet, though one zucchini looked a little peaked. If all goes well, I will have tomatoes, green peppers and squash out the wazoo, enough to fill up a sweet little basket and take them to friends. I have always wanted to be one of those people. I also planted two sunflowers, mammoth ones. If they come up, I am going to be soooooo excited. My roses did not get pruned this year, and are all bushy but still putting out lots of blooms. The wisteria got overgrown and so heavy part of it broke off, poor thing, but we propped it up again and tied it to a big stake and it is happily if sparsely blooming, too. I just got in from watering and feeling pretty darned abundant with this great space to play in. Now Boo won't come in encrusted with burrs anymore. How sweet it is. All because I asked for and got help. We can all use some, you know.

I love you, California...

That's actually our state song. My mother knows all the words to it. Funnily enough, I don't, though I know all the words to the Hawaiian state song, in Hawaiian. Don't ask. Anyhoo, our sweet state enjoys a lovely temperate climate. In 24 hours, we have gone from thermal sweatshirt/heat dish weather to tank top/ceiling fan weather. I released my toes from their cotton prisons and painted them coral pink. And, with a little help from a friend, we tamed the backyard jungle again, so that it looks like a country club. The yard of shame is all tidied up, as well, and the car got it's zen carwash this afternoon. If this is not enough to convince you spring has sprung, just get a gander of the tomato, pepper and zucchini plants I plopped into the barrels out back today. Am I something or what! Also have pretty pink shoulders. Love that vitamin D.

Morning in the Yucatan, afternoon in Zaire

I spent my morning up to my neck in Mayan myth, all about Quetzlcoatl, Xmucane, and the first four humans, Jaguar Quitze, Jaguar Night, Dark Jaguar, and Not Right Now. Really, that's their names. Just love those Mayans. In our Color Theory class, we are doing Mbuti cloth reproductions, which is really fun, like kindergarten for college students. We each got a big square of brown paper, which we wadded up and got all wet, then spread out to dry. We tore the edges so it is irregularly shaped, then began painting it like a crazy quilt, paying attention to dark and light, warm and cool, bright and dull colors. Each section then gets its own design, large and small, active and quiet, etc. I nearly went cross-eyed painting this one black patch with yellow tiger stripes, but it came out fine and really is striking. And I love the yellow patch that I decorated with black dragonflies. Not as thrilling or wonderful as some of the students who came before me, pretty rough around the edges (like me, I suppose), but it will be an original, for sure. How much fun can one little old lady have, anyway?

She puzzled and puzzed...

I was thinking about Buddha today, as this was his birthday, I think, April 8th. That symbol for yin and yang, the circle split in two, black and white, each with a dot from the corresponding side, do you think that means that there is a blessing in every trial, and a trial in every blessing? This is a world of dualities: black and white, dark and light, old and young. How can we know joy if we never know suffering? Would you give up joy to not suffer? I don't think so. Joy is too precious. And rain, well that's just so I can appreciate sunshine. And winter brings the spring. Too bad I cannot go back to young now. I would savor it so much more than I did when I was there. Which reminds me, my birthday is coming. Will you still love me? I'm going to be 64. Paul McCartney is single. There's a thought.

Have some perspective, my dear?

Ah, the beauty of other people's travails. I sojourned down to Marin County today, that bastion of the botoxed and beautiful. I used to work down there, and never could get a line on what was happening. Lots of shiny cars, mostly in black and white and silver and gray, with a smidge of champagne beige to add some class. Lots of all-natural-fiber folks, looking fabulously green and firm. Today, I met with three former office-mates. Three of us are retired now. The youngun is still toiling away, though from her residence, which keeps her sane and far from our mutual boss, dear man that he is. I began this day toting about my cross-du-jour, a potpourri of angst that ranges from a sticky situation with a relative to the usual champagne-taste/beer budget stuff. And I came home happy and full of gratitude. These women are facing ailing husbands, chronic illness, adolescents learning to drive (been there, done that, bought the t-shirt). Me, I am hanging together fairly well health-wise, and my greatest responsibility is the Boo, who is at the moment, all well and sassy. How sweet it is, a soupcon of perspective keeps the blues away.