As I leave my island, all the elements that went into
creating the months of experiences that will always
stay with me, come into my mind’s eye ….
————————————
Tag Archives: big island
… the day plods on …
Gathering her skirts and notes and bags and bells,
the Radiant One steps into the waiting car,
and I back out the long leafy drive, and
onto the red clay road, leading to town.
I have already loaded the one bag for the dump.
I’d cleaned things up long ago, but she wants it all gone.
The long list appears, and the woman begins the rundown….
“Turn here” she says, while I remind her it’s OK, I’ve lived
here a while, and can likely find my way to town.
“First we need to get gas… oh There…that’s where we get it.
Oh wait, pull around and back up, wait…. there’s another one
a little further on, and I think it’s cheaper…. there on the right,
pull in there. ”
Smoke signals tiptoe out of one ear.
I of course pump the gas, and pay for it. Bad back.
“Now I need to stop at the Natch… wait….turn right here, and
then you can go to the dump down that road…. Wait!
Wait! …you need to turn right there, so we can go to the dump! ”
“We’ll go on the way back” I announce, beginning to feel some
semblance of my old spunk returning.
“OH, but the Smell…. we need to go there First” she whines,
not realizing that those hot pink ear muffs are now already in place,
and the road long gone.
It is becoming clear to me that at this moment, My hands are
on the wheel, and if only for a short while, I am in control.
Kind of….
“So now we need park there….oh wait….no, I think there’s another
one closer…go around again, and yes, you can pull up right there…
right there in front!”
“But it says NO PARKING…” I reply, calmly tapping my fingernails.
“Oh it’s OK, I’ll just be a minute, she smiles, and unloads her Self,
taking out her list as she arranges her layers.
I sit a while, then pull away, somewhat embarrassed …I mean,
this is the Groovy Natural Food Store, everyone looking healthy
and tan, very healthy and very Green, and tan, and
I’m parked in the NO PARKING ZONE?
I drive around a couple times…. the minutes go by.
It’s now been 15…..
I find another parking space, and slide in, figuring she’ll
eventually see me, which she does at last, after
another 15 minutes have passed….
“Why did you part here?” she querries. I don’t answer.
I’ve now boldly moved to passive aggressive, an inner smile
softly warming my gallstones.
“Now we need to go to my appointment at the Welfare Office…
…..it’s at 2..
It’s on Aloha, near the park…. turn left here, and then….”
…and the instructions lead us to a modern low slung
office building, ample parking, full slots.
I pull up the the curb near the door, the way she likes it…
“So, I’ll go do something for a while, and come back…
…how long do you think?” I smile…
Freedom!……. I think….
“OH! come back at 2:15! my appointment will only take
15 minutes,” she instructs me.
I return at 2:15, such a good girl I am.
Oh! Surprise! ……I wait..
Half an hour later, she ambles out, and slides into the back seat,
and without my help. She smiles serenely, as though all is well,
and my taxi clock has just been dutifully running…
“Now we need to stop at that …….and then…….and then the… ”
Smoke signals, this time in deep Fuschia.
At last we/she is done, I think, and we head homeward, this time
taking that turn for the dump.
I throw the one small bag into the pile, breathing a sigh of relief,
thinking I’m nearly There, and
I went to the dump when I Wanted to!
Yes! I’ve passed through the fruit loops, with
the goddess nearly gone.
“Oh Wait!…. if you turn right at the next road, we can go by
that plant store, and I can find something I really need,
and the pet store is right next door…
Park there….no wait, there’s one over there….no wait….”
I purposefully park where I damn well feel like,
wild and crazy rebel that I am, and stare straight ahead.
I quietly hold my breath so that the
now very Chartreuse smoke signals sink down,
twining around my body, oozing out onto my sandals.
At last we are home, I step out into the banana palms and
flowering trees, never looking back, walking down
that red clay road,
deep breaths and sky smiles,
ignoring any possibility of the call to arms,
or legs
or brain
or any other part of me she might think she owns.
——————————-
… the woman returns …
As the rains wash the faces of lush leaves and grateful grasses,
I become restless for change. Contact with old friends brings
longings to my heart, longings for home and the familiar.
Work lined up, the late summer that some call Indian Summer,
has descended upon the Coast of California, the colors and warm
waters calling to my senses.
It’s time to pin down times, make plans, find friends to greet me,
and say goodbye to my island times in Hilo Town.
The Radiant One has announced her arrivals, and I will be driving
Her car to pick Her up, and chauffeur Her to home.
Completions are both delightful and difficult.
I decide in my journal, that She will be a character in some novel
of mine, for I have yet to meet anyone who glows with such self
absorption, such clear definition of who she is and what her
roles are…as well as everyone else’s.
I arrive at the Airport, brilliant sun, swaying palms, soft trades
wafting flower essences, and I am high on life.
Soon she is spotted, and we smile and embrace.
Her patchouli blots out all soft frangipani and plumeria,
as though her conflicts are with the entire island, that must
now know with all certainty, that She is returned.
She wears dark rich colors, and many layers, covering her more
than abundant flesh. There’s no telling where the layers end
and the flesh begins, but it’s clear to see she has eaten well.
Kohl eyes, dark dyed hair, necklaces tinkling, bracelets
shimmering as she motions to where her luggage is.
I must lift them off the carousel, as her back is bad.
As she glances around to see if that handsome porter has
noticed her, her earrings, massive and audible, tangle in the
bundles of dark hair and veils and scarves, and she seems
somewhat unaware that I am struggling in any way to place
her things on a cart, and get the hell out of there.
The fact that I am 5-2 doesn’t seem to faze her….ah but I am
strong, pain free, able bodied, never mind that I am easily within
three years of her age, and nearly half her size….
I bring the car to the curb, load the suitcases, and thankfully
she finds the door handle herself, and manages to slide her
abundant beingness inside without help.
Phase one completed.
Homeward bound, she chats about her past and her future.
Endlessly.
There doesn’t seem to be much present, but then
I allow for jet lag.
It’s early evening, and after I unload the car and bring her things
upstairs for her, she begins unpacking, and now moves in to her
bedroom, the place I have slept for two months.
My things, of course, have been packed up and moved out, and
I figure since it’s a small place, the screened lanai is the best place
to be out of her way, while the different parts of her arrive.
There is a card table and a folding chair… and mosquitos.
She moves to the kitchen, where she begins putting things in order…
and I discover that Her order is to put all my foods away in the
cupboard and refrigerator where She likes them, instead together
and accessible on the front shelf.
All my food is now hidden from view, including all my wonderful
and expensive organic coffees, now in Her freezer, my cream,
butters, nuts and cheeses, now in Her fridge door shelves behind
doors, and my condiments up high on Her shelves where
I can’t reach them…..
Everything is now marked with her scent and assigned
a new life in her world.
The Shock of her assumptions proceeds to confusion….
what the what?
…and I wonder if all of her nerve endings make U turns back into
themselves, because there seems to be no input from anything
outside of Herself.
When something about my food is mentioned, the reply comes…
“Don’t worry about it….” she tosses off over her left shoulder…
“I left you plenty of food.”
Uh….hmmmm….but as I recall, it consisted of some produce that
needed quick use, much of which was cooked and fed to her male
friends, who’d been told that I would make lunch for them,
good slave girl that I am. Oh well…..
I make plans for a black ops rescue, my coffee and cheeses and
almonds and sauces rushed to safety, while she’s in the shower…..
The evening looms, and although there is a small couch in the
front room that I figure I can now relax on, she seems to have
taken that over, spreading out all sorts of papers and notes and
receipts and pictures, and is lost in her ordering-of-self phase.
She never makes eye contact…
She brings out all of her precious Icons now, the ones I carefully
put away in drawers for safe keeping, and for my sanity.
She thoughtfully arranges them, one by one, each
in its proper place.
Oh it’s gonna be a long night.
She couldn’t Possibly venture out into the world to drive me to
my friends’ house tonight! She’s exhausted.
She turns on her radio station, and crawls into bed.
There are night lights, and the sounds are loud.
At some point, I quietly move to turn down the volume, but
like a cat with one eye open, she catches me, and insists that
it be turned back to where it was.
She just can’t sleep without the radio on.
At last I curl up on that little couch, pillow over my head,
hoping to pretend to hear the trades, and see the moon.
————————————————–
… just being …
The varying bird is laughable enough
without the changes that come from life.
Being is good enough for me.
————
… fall approaches …
VIEW from Jeff and Eileen’s Condo…. to the Left.
—————————————————————————–
….. And to the Right.
————————————————————————-
As the “Radiant One” stays a few weeks longer, I begin completing
tasks and contacts on the island.
The Hilton on Kona side loves my Gem Stone Jewelry, and puts
a dozen high end pieces in their showcases…. nice.
Expensive with rich clients…
The home owner who lives close by lets me know that if I want to
come back, he would gladly rent to me when the woman leaves.
He likes my work ethic…
My friends Jeff and Eileen have now moved to a third floor condo,
and with a view of the Bay, with little boats in and out.
I have this recurring fantasy of Alcir sailing into view.
Talks with Alcir continue, and although he is very distracted
with classes and long studies, we keep on having these great
times together.
I find myself feeling hopeful again, as his mood improves, and
great hopes for his future grow larger on the horizon.
He’s drinking less because of classes and studies, and his need
for clarity…. and a memory!
“You know Chico and Tekko?” he asks.
Since i don’t get the reference, he explains…
“Chico and Tekko are this squirrel and this chipmunk in
a Disney cartoon.
“I only have two neurons, Chico and Tekko…. ” he smiles.
“I usually work with one at a time, but when they get together,
they fight…” and he chuckles at his own imagery.
He mentions calling me long time ago, when he returned
to Brasil, after the Foreign Legion.
As we talk, I realize he means Before I ever emailed him,
long time ago, like 1990s sometime.
As I question him, it all comes out, and he says.
“I called when I came back to Brasil the second time…. 1994?…
…after Desert Storm…and I got some store who said they
never heard of you.
I called your old number…the one on your card”
“You kept my Card?” I wondered incredulously …
my Celestial Dreams card, my cute little store in town.
I remembered when he called me, way back in the old days…
“Hello? Eeees Theeees Celestial Dreeeems? Yes…..
I’d like to order one Celestial Dreeem Pleeees…..”
Funny thing was, after spending over a year on Kauai and
going through Hurricane Iniki in 1992, when I returned to the
NorCal coast I actually tried to get my old number again.
I thought it would be a good thing for any number of reasons,
some professional contacts….but they said it was already
being used by someone else.
But I also remembered thinking way back there in my mind that
if I had that number again, perhaps someday he’d find me.
I begin to make plans for leaving. I’m thinking back to the
Northern California Coast, and such a great timing, what with
harvest season, and so many friends there offering work.
Oh this will be fun And abundance for travel!
—————————————
… the steve factor …
September 2005
Still island time, but it’s as though I see off in the distance,
where the road turns, and a new time begins.
Once the woman of this house returns, my time here closes,
and although returning is more than possible, still that
Northern California town calls to me now…
and since it’s harvest time, the timing could be perfect.
The days tick along, with long walks, jungle clearing, jewelry
making, and occasional visits from this fellow Steve.
The woman tells me he’s a great guy, that they have been lovers,
and that I should consider him as well.
He’s also the one I’m supposed to call if something needs fixing.
It’s not that I don’t understand that old hippie ethic that includes
sharing lovers, but frankly I’m having doubts about her abilities of
discernment, and besides, and most importantly,
he does Nothing for me.
I’m in Love with Alcir.
Steve, on the other hand, can be very handy to fix things around
the place, and she keeps telling me this, but he’s like a
silly little panting dog, humping my leg.
Why do I get the feeling that he’s used to being paid in skin?
Could it be that he’s been getting happy endings too?
That Play opens up in Volcano, with Jason Scott Lee, and I must go,
cannot miss this opportunity, and though I ask Jeff and Eileen
to go with, only Steve ends up coming along.
I dress up, of course, and as we depart, I’m thinking that
he’s thinking it’s for him…….. whoops!
The theater is tiny, and set up like a small living room.
We are in the front row, of which there are only 3, and maybe
20 seats wide.
Small intimate venue. Lovely.
Throughout the play, the actors are sometimes only a couple feet
away, and it creates this feeling of being part of the play yourself.
It’s Visceral, you Feel it, I mean they’re spitting on you….
Our front row seats are right there on the players’ floor….
The themes are timely, with political overtones, but clear character development. Everyone is lively, present, and professional.
There’s something about Jason’s energies, his lightness, his
intelligence. He Glows….There’s this underlying Joy that simply
Beams off of his face, his skin, like a leaping dolphin.
Afterwards, as we go out to mingle, I am able to spend a few
minutes with him, and my head literally spins with his energy.
The man is so conscious, present, softly intense.
He looks deeply in the eyes, takes in the words I share with him,
his warm hand holds magnetic resonance, and I do not wonder
why he has left Hollywood at the peak of his career.
The man is on another plane, highly evolved, a beautiful soul.
He grew up in Hawaii, Chinese Hawaiian like Keanu Reeves, and
there is that Asian, quietly thoughtful thing that you can pick up,
as well as intense discipline, and great physicality.
His personal directions involve environmental issues and
working to return the area of the land he has purchased
(around the theater he has built), to its original state,
as well as writing and acting and directing.
My contact high continues for quite a while after our exchange.
Now I want to see all his films…
Steve and I go home, and it’s clear to me he holds this Agenda.
Oh no…. oh please no….
I act tired, and he leaves… whew.
I guess since the woman was open to him, so perhaps he figures
it’s only a matter of time til I succomb as well…. sorry… ewwww.
Journal….Sept 14, 2005
After the play, I still thought maybe I could sometimes enjoy his
company … but he came over wednesday nite with dinner,
and … am i wrong? …the evening descended on my brain like
a hammer made of gnats…
He brought this horrible chicken thing, and when I offered some
nice organic broccoli, he asked if I would cook it “mushy”…
The fresh pesto I made, he described as “interesting”, and
for the final seal …he Loves Bush and listens to Christian News.
Huge iridescent Red flags wave all around me, blocking sight of
anything that might be even vaguely positive about the man.
“Just level Iraq”, he says, “and get it over with. ”
I’m getting nauseous…
“Who knows about WMDs…maybe they were there…but…bla bla bla”
My mind goes fuzzy…if I wanted Rush, I’d dial him…… merde.
He’s an idiot, and I want him out of here Now…
How can this gypsy hippie woman, who subscribes to all the latest
cosmic groovies, pictures of gurus, and incense burning, and special
meditation tapes, and talk of a Spiritual Center…..all the cool-speak..
….and she dresses like she’s waiting for Rama to come out of the sky
for her and ask her to dance for him and be his bride….
How can she Do it with him?
How could she let him into her body, with such a limited brain and
ridiculous opinions… I just can’t imagine.
When the puppy dog looks begin, I find myself once again nauseous,
and I feel this itchy irritation rising up in the back of my neck,
and behind my eyes.
From the beginning I thought I’d made it clear…
He gazes at me, as the TV searches begin.
He finds a soft porn channel, and wants to leave it on.
I don’t know whether to laugh or beat him up.
I leave to get a glass of water…
He lets me know he has “a chubby”.
(I laugh to myself that that was a good word to use, as
I greatly doubt it’s a “fatty”. )
I get up and clear away the glasses….
“I’m getting horny” he half states, half whines, as
I return from the bathroom….where I gaze at myself
in the mirror and ask….. WHA????.
At this point, my brain screams, but
I breathe….and
Slowly, Clearly, I say…
“Steve….nothing’s Ever gonna happen……Ever…….
Please…you must know that by now..
I’ve told you that ….. I’m engaged, I’m in love…”
I leave out the part about how I don’t find him at all
or in the least bit attractive, and that
Alcir could Kill him with a look…
At last he leaves, and I can breath again. I’ve finally and completely
realized the man is incapable of Getting it, or even being a grownup.
I cannot spend a moment more with him around… that’s IT.
The irritation is not worth the occasional help, and
certainly not this big angry emotional hangover.
When the woman calls for her mail readings, I mention Steve,
and how completely irritating I find him.
She is incredulous, and cannot understand why.
WHA???
I was having doubts before, but now I am completely convinced
of this woman’s strange and desperate consciousness.
Later I mention this to my friends, the ones who connected us
in the first place, and I can hear their mouths hanging open as
I fill them in on the happenings….
Good Lord, life is Strange…
————————————–
…june 13 2005…
Today I face my fears. Today I face creating money,
being on my own, not knowing what the future holds,
and liking what I have created for myself.
Go towards what opens, leave what closes….
Journal…
Last nite after talking with Alcir, I went on his writers’ site
as he had asked… he thought a virus had perhaps affected it…
And there… 4/26/05…. is a new “erotic poem”. And
what am i to assume?
Is it about me? how can it be? Is it about Her…
…whichever her it might be?
How am I to know? Yet the title is in Portuguese, and it
will not translate for me, and it seems like it’s either
“You Did Not Come”… or “Don’t Come”…
It’s some sad poem that talks about never her,
not showing up at all, and never knowing his Love…
but something about not coming…. and
one could easily take that in several ways.
I call him….. I am confused, as well as potentially angry and jealous.
About all he could offer me was to ask me if I was jealous…
He seems unwilling to give a straight answer, and unable
to just Talk about Anything…
There is no explanation, resolution, or sense made of any of it.
I am left with something akin to everything else right now….
Nothing is sure, and It’s all up to me.
Then I watch a film and I take down a quote…
“God is the principle of simplicity and unity that seems to be
underneath all the complexity at the surface of things.”
I like what i hear…..
…and this is from a group of top scientists and theologians
that had gathered in order to redefine God for the 21st century,
bringing spiritual and scientific value into greater harmony.
and then the Journal …
“She let him go. He was an aquarian after all…. and what is
anything without freedom…”
This terrible letting go engulfed her, and she realized that
was all she could do. Let go with Love… because that was
still there with all its prickly holdings.
But letting go of any semblance of Control was the only
path there for her. It was the high road for both.
Somehow she got in this place, the place of releasing
him and herself from any expectations or obligations…
and then serendipity came along,
and this song kept on going round and round….
..and it was in an Angelina Jolie film she watched,
and it spoke the truth… and as tears fell, she
stood on its ground at that moment.
Love Song
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Home again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Whole again.
However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.
And for a Sexier Version… a newer cover by Adelle…
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am young again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am fun again.
However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Free again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Clean again.
However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.
…kosmic kookies…
So it’s Monday, and I’m at the housesitting house.
Very nice, small, functional, typical simple island home,
surrounded by jungle and quiet,
with lots of windows.
The dog is a gentle sweet wolfie type that I adore,
the cat a siamese mix, very independant and also sweet.
The woman is…. hmmm. I’m still assimilating…..
She dresses in exotic middle eastern belly dancing,
hippie goddess garb, wears lots of Patchouli, and has
crystals and magical objects on and around her, with
pictures of gurus and eastern deities on every shelf.
“Where is my favorite tape, Tantric Dreams?” she says to
herself, as she rummages through the bookshelves…
She sets me on some of her tasks that need to be finished
before she leaves. She has a borrowed sewing machine that
won’t work right…. could i see if i can get it working?
There are a couple things that need mending… maybe
you can do those? she mentions…
I help her get Propane and attach it, assist her with packing
away things while she’s gone, and we go over the list, which
includes calling the phone company to change the service,
going to the insurance office and get the new card for the car,
and taking her trash to the dump.
Then I need to mow the lawn, which she hasn’t been able to
get to in a while…and which will have to be done every week.
Walk the dog daily, wash him weekly…
…..fortunately I don’t have to wash the cat…
“You haven’t seen my “Mind and Body Tonic” have you?”
she calls out from the bath…
She has a couple fellows over for some sort of a meeting
about this healing center that she’s very involved with, and
they seem nice, and together enough.
She’s definitely seems to be some sort of Consultant or Expert
on matters of a Spiritual Learning Center, and these two guys
are the money and minds, the property already procured.
She tells me they are coming over tomorrow, after she leaves,
and will expect lunch, and so I am to make it for them…
an organic vegan thing…
and oh, she won’t have times to clean up the kitchen now,
and that juicer has been sitting a while, and needs to be
cleaned out really well, before I can make them their
organic juice drink.
She is working with all of her being to be part of this Healing
Center soon to be built. Not just a part, but the Central Core,
with plans for them to build her her own house, and she will
conduct classes in a variety of cosmic subjects, earning
a nice income.
Her name is a combination of Three Adjectives, and I
wonder to myself….
I mean, I have friends who have been given a special name
by a guru, or a teacher, or some channeled session, but …
Have you ever seen those Angel Cards? Where everyday
you meditate, and then choose one for the Word of today. …?
The words are always positive and inspiring, and I wonder….
…because it’s almost like she’d picked three of these cards,
to see what the Cosmos wanted her to be called.
Let’s just say it was something like
Joyous Glowing Rainbow Essence,
or something close to it.
The place is great. The animals are great. Later I meet the
landlord who lives next door, and he’s great.
He has lots of paying work for me if I’m interested, and he
has a business selling Solar Panels on line. Nice.
All I have to do is take all her messages, and repeat them all
to her when she calls, as well as pick up her mail every day,
and read it to her when she calls again.
Hmmmm. …..this woman needs a servant… or two….
“Have you seen my Swami Beyondananda Book?”, she wonders
from the bedroom, as I am loading her suitcases into the car.
She has a bad back.
I drive her to the airport, carry her luggage to the check in,
and wait while she does all the stuff she needs to do, help
her with her carry-ons, and see her off.
I’m told I cannot drive the car very far, that she just doesn’t
want to worry about something going wrong, but that’s ok…
NO problem… I really don’t want to do much driving at all.
Live in the jungle, do a little yard work for the landlord, who
Loves it that I like to do physical work… and he pays well.
After her needs are tended to, I then I go ‘home’, clean the
house, wash down the kitchen, spend a half an hour cleaning
the juicer, make lunch for those fellow friends of hers, who
were actually very interesting company…very bright and
intelligent..
…one I called (to myself) Josef the Real, the blonde Rasta
boy with kaleidoscope eyes…
…and S, the suave 40 yr old rich guy, a bit like Ben Afleck,
with a flash of Tom Cruise…
He’s the one who’s financing the deal.
Then I clean up from that, and finally relax. Ahhhh…..
Alone at last. Deep sigh…
Hmmmm…. maybe Three servant girls….
Staying around, making jewelry, going to the beach, visiting
my friends J and E….. who are highly brilliant creative artists
in their own right….going to the magical blue ponds where the
algae makes the inner pools glow, and you dive under the rocks
to come up into this cavern of iridescence….
…earning money next door, and doing yard work in the middle
of this beautiful jungle….. taking miles of walks down wild roads,
…..it all is just Heaven before me.
Next Phase has Begun! and we all know…it’s All a Phase!
…the party house…
Today her friend was making plans. Her husband was
having a monumental birthday party, with many friends
and associates, and massive foods and drinks were in order.
They had traveled to the huge home that the husband and
his group had built for one of the friends, and it was quite
spectacular, atop the golden hills of the Big Island, West
side, with a sweeping view of blueness, and acreage.
This place was Gigantic, with 8 or 10 bedrooms, hallways
where one could get lost (and did), decks and views of the
sloping, rolling hillside, dramatic and shrubby, palms
added here and there.
There were little guest houses too, and it would seem
perfect for conferences, or entire tribal getogethers.
Yet there was a cozyness about it al, that Island Casual
thing that she lovedl.
The Kitchen was a dream, completely stocked with stations
and work areas appropriate for feeding large crowds.
She was in heaven.
She had known it was part of the plan before she arrived,
and had included her several Fondue Pots in her luggage,
as this was to be her contribution to the festivities.
She loved to cook, loved feeding parties, and had wonderful
plans for several flavors and lots of things to fork and dip.
Meanwhile her friend was list making, while she did her best
to extract numbers and timings, so she could plan too.
“Gosh, we’ll need two black slaves to carry our things from
the stores,” she laughed…
“Well, that’s you babe,” came the quick response, and she
immediately checked her friend, to be sure this was a joke…
apparently it was not.
When she did her best to make light of the comment, her friend
suggested she put on her black face…
“Hmmm…I think my friend’s a little tense,” she mumbled to herself.
The shopping turns to her and two of the wives, and they all swing
and stagger through the isles of several island stores, with weighty
lists and last minute thoughts.
Lots of people, more each day are added, and there must be
enough of the appetizers, the main dishes, the desserts,
the drinks and wines, and of course… the cake!
So much to think of…
She hopes she can pull it together, as everyone seems a little
scattered, and who is doing what begins to be confusing…
Still, the excitement builds, she has her own little room to
herself, and just looking across this landscape of brush and
small trees and rocky hillsides excites her imagination.
She’d lived in the islands, and never seen this particular vast
western side, where the moisture has been stolen before it
could pass the mountains, and those rain laced laden Tradewinds
arrive dry and arrid, freed of their burden, and creating an
entirely different world.
Tomorrow they start cleaning and chopping and arranging for
the big afternoon, very soon to come.
She gets out her three little Vintage Fondue Pots, each with its
own stand and warming candle.
There are eight or ten little Forks to each pot, and the whole group
together, with its Retro avocado, orange and mustard colors,
and ‘modern’ lines, takes her back to the early sixties,
when Fondue Parties were quite the thing.
Parties were so civilized and jolly then, she thought.
A nice glass of wine, some jazz in the air, everyone dressed for
the evening, a small fire in the fireplace… Yes….
…boat dreams…
She watched the sea, a still, steel blue calm of a background
to dry golden hills. Hills that brought back days of sonoma
and chatsworth, the SoCal days.
What a strange time in her life, a time of throwing herself
to the wind literally. A kite without a string.
Exhilarating and terrifying.
She longed for her man, the male counterpart she’d
waited for, for so long… in general, yes, but
also quite specifically.
She’d called him this morning, and he’d been napping…
“Oh, I hate it when someone takes me out of my dream.
When I go to sleep, I always think I may dream of my boat.
And when I do, and a call takes me away…”
“Well….Sorry!” she mocked…
She knew it wasn’t just that way with her call…
“Oh Nooo…but to trade a dream for a dream, that’s ok…”
he soothed, coming more into the present.
“So…you were dreaming of your boat?”
“Yes…. it was so goooood…”
The longing tide that crouched in her belly sang songs
of sun and warm skin.
Soft brown warm skin there for the touching.
She loved reaching out for him in the the night, and just
resting her fingertips against his borders.
The borders of him, inside him, him really there…
Now she could not succumb to it…… No..
The tide must rest, like some pacing tiger
in the closet of her heart…
Can’t come out yet, she thought….
……..or it will surely Eat me.
notesfromthelovewars 