Broken Wing

Last day of the year

Just two hours on the mountain

Our lad breaks his arm

Aloe in Bloom, and Everything Else

Today I feel like I don't have an original bone in my body, and am having a hard time writing an actual poem. But I went for a run earlier and as I passed this patch of brilliant red aloe flowers, I was overcome with gratefulness for some of the things I just don't think about very often. My prayer of thanks isn't very creative, but it's from the heart.

Thank you for aloe in bloom.

Thank you for eyesight that needs only the slightest correction.

Thank you for legs that can walk and run,

and arms that can swim, paddle,

carry groceries and hug my sons.

Thank you for the year ending

and the one about to begin.

Remembering Tim

When I remember you, Tim,

it's through the filter of your brother's stories--

my favorite memories of you

have become the stories he told me.

You policing the sugar he put on his cereal

while he taunted you, tipping just a bit more off the spoon;

your careful, complete assembly of model airplanes

while his, half-finished, were set on fire and thrown off the dock.

The rivalry and love that can probably only be understood

by two brothers born eighteen months apart.

Too Soon

Come on. Isn't it too soon

for that Valentine's day candy display?

Ritual

The walls start to go all coppery

pink and someone shouts,

Hey, go outside and look at the sunset,

so we hurry out onto the deck and--oh!

It never gets old.

Fresh Air

Kids, get your racquets

and let's hit some tennis balls.

Food coma begone!

I Do

for David

Do you remember

the night we stayed up late

and painted the kitchen

drinking peppermint martinis

(which

if I remember correctly

were pretty much just vodka

and a candy cane)

and singing Christmas carols along with Ella Fitzgerald

and the Choir of King's College

while our baby boys slept upstairs?

I do.

I love you.

Christmas Eve

A walk outside, gifts

to wrap. Candles, lessons and

carols. Aquavit!

After the Storm

There's a break in the rain

so we start mopping up.

Looking at swollen wood and damp drywall

and peeling paint.

Every towel in the house is soaking wet

or being washed and dried

so it can be soaking wet again.

But with every heavy load

of laundry I carry upstairs

my heart feels lighter.

It's a load that I can carry.

My back is strong.

There's blue sky on the horizon,

and it's almost Christmas.

The Great Christmas Flood of 2010

While making coffee,

I hear drip, drip, drip. Oh no!

The pantry's flooded.

When Parents Text

My brother Geoff sent me a link to the most hilarious web site, www.whenparentstext.com. It's hysterical! I don't think my texts to my kids are all that funny; I clearly need to put more effort into using emoticons and being goofy and overbearing (though they might disagree). But I do find some of their texts pretty darn humorous. My youngest has a way of trying to negotiate with me about his curfew and sleepovers with his friends (even when he's grounded) that is both exasperating and dear. In the manner of whenparentstext.com, I have titled Willem's text, and I'm calling it a found poem:

Hope Springs Eternal

Hi mom

Im just checking in im at Myles house

He invited me to sleep ovr and i said i couldn't is that ok

Sugar Rush!

Christmas baking with

the nieces: little cookies

and lots of frosting!

Fourth Sunday of Advent

A found poem, from Psalm 80:

restore us, show us

the light of your countenance,

and we shall be saved

Namaste and the Holidays

Does today's yoga

cancel out last night's egg nog?

I really hope so....

iPods and Eggnog

School's out for Christmas,

the boys curled up by the fire with

iPods and books.

Eggnog, anyone?

Tuna Casserole

Mom, can you make some food

for my Spanish class party?

Sure, what did the teacher ask you to bring?

A tuna casserole.

?!? Why a tuna casserole? People haven't been eating that since the 1950's!

And also, don't you want Mexican food, like enchiladas?

(patiently, as if I should already know this) No, mom. The girls in the class are bringing Mexican food. Senor Ortiz asked me to bring a tuna casserole.

Um, ok. But are you sure that's what he said?

Yes.

Ok then.

Wheels in Motion

Tonight I took Willem to a screening of Wheels4Life: The Film, which documents the work that Hans Rey's foundation is doing in Tanzania to bring bicycles to people who desperately need transportation in order to work, get to school, or get medical care. Hans is a world-famous mountain biking champion and local legend; he is to trials riding what Tony Hawk is to skateboarding--the original and best, a godfather of sorts. The film was incredibly moving; I was blown away by the difference Hans and his wife Carmen are making in the world. Willem was too, and said so.

The screening and after-party was hosted by our friend Andrew Herrick's company, Crank Brothers (they make high-end, design-y bike components) and was open to the community. So, in essence, Crank Brothers opened their doors and turned their annual holiday party into a raucous, festive fundraiser for a very worthy cause. How great is that?! I found out later that something like $19,000 was raised, all of which will go toward Wheels4Life projects in India and Africa.

I love living in Laguna for many reasons. But I think what I love the most about it is the many creative, talented people here who use their power for good. My heart is full.

raffles, live auction

raucous fun for a good cause

love is in the house

Winter Wonderland

I know there's rain in the forecast, but until then I'm loving the mild, sunny days we're having.

Laguna winter:

flip-flops all day, a sweater

when the sun goes down.

St. Lucy

It's a quiet winter day here in Laguna beach, and I feel like I don't have much to write about. Looking for inspiration, I looked through a few of the books on my desk and checked email. Aha. The "saint of the day" email I subscribe to informed me that December 13 is the feast day of St. Lucy, also know as St. Lucia. Not a lot is known about her, except that she was a young woman trying to live a life of virtue in pagan Sicily during the Diocletian persecution. She pledged her virginity to God, and was "outed" as a Christian by a disappointed suitor when she refused to marry him and gave her dowry to the poor. Subsequently, she was executed in 304 A.D. She is known as the patron saint of the blind on account of the grotesque manner in which she was martyred, which I don't really want to go into here because it makes me queasy.

Lucy, Lucia, Lux:

The girl who said,

You cannot bend my will to your purpose.

Turtle

David is in Hawaii, his last business trip of the year (thanks be to God!) He emailed me this picture of a turtle who looks like such an absolute sad sack that it made me laugh. But come to think of it, I'm feeling about the way this turtle looks--kind of beached and depleted. I've been struggling with my commitment to write every day and have gotten behind and am trying to catch up. I don't feel very Christmasy and the poetry is just not coming.

Help, I'm stuck!

Can someone give me

a shove toward the water?

Humbug

I love all the Christmas fixings, but sometimes the list of stuff that I'm "supposed to" do by December 25 kind of bums me out. I'm not feeling very festive or jolly...yet.

Christmas cards--order.

Christmas tree--get, decorate.

Christmas spirit--need.

Antique Antlers and Airport Security

When you carry on

the deer antlers you bought in

an antique store in

Hanoi (carefully wrapped, of

course), be prepared for

some strange looks as they pass through

the x-ray machine.

How to Cross the Street in Hanoi:

Carefully, but confidently.

Step into the roadway.

Walk with purpose and conviction

and pray without ceasing.

Do not stop or you will be hit.

Keep moving, as motorbikes and cars

flow around you like water,

until you reach your destination.

Bamboo Bar

I wish I could take

the Bamboo Bar home with me,

wicker, wool and all.

Uncle Ho's Mausoleum

in a chilly crypt,

the old man lies in state, like

pheasant under glass

Apsara

Apsara: spirit

of clouds, goddess of water,

celestial maiden.

Siem Reap, Cambodia

I step off the plane

and smell jasmine rice.

Lily pads float in a pond

near the baggage claim.

Even the idling tour buses

in the airport parking lot

can't eclipse

the resonant buzz of cicadas

and the scent of crushed leaves.

Jet Lag

Let me backtrack a moment here, since I just jumped right into Vietnam without any explanation. David and I are in Hanoi for Japan Diamond Forum, an event for Amway Japan's top distributors who will be launching XS Energy in that market in the spring of next year. He's meeting with distributors and corporate people, speaking at a gala dinner event, and hosting a few XS cocktail receptions (I'm hearing murmurings about a hot new drink called the Osaka Slammer--stay tuned).

I didn't really know what to expect in coming here. Like most Americans, I suppose, when I think of Vietnam, I think of the war, and its tragic effects on both our countries. Also, I recall images from the gorgeous film "Indochine," which depicts the end of the French colonial era here. So I was curious to see this place for myself. And: wow! Though I've only been here a day, I get the sense that Hanoi is an energetic, vibrant city full of thousands upon thousands of motorbikes (more on that later) and entrepreneurs--almost everyone is selling something, whether bread off the back of a bike, flowers from carts, or food, just out on the sidewalk. Not what I expected from a communist country. And the food itself--just wonderful. What a place.

But this afternoon I was hit by such a wave of jet lag that I felt really strange, and was almost too tired to take a nap, if that makes any sense at all.

With my eyes open

I see stars, and blink a lot

but when I close them,

it's worse. I try to sleep but

things rush at me from

behind closed eyelids.

A moped tire becomes a

crescent moon that starts

to spin, and turns into a

ferris wheel from my childhood.

Good Morning, Vietnam!

A perfect breakfast:

Savory pho, strong coffee

and--oh! French pastries!

4 AM

the thing I dislike

most about going to the

airport isn't just

the getting up; it's that I'm

so nervous about

not getting up and missing

my flight that I can't

actually fall asleep

in the first place (yawn)

Hanoi, here i come