Happy Easter

Not a creature was stirring as I sat at my computer, fingers hitting the right keys sometimes, sometimes not.

“Churip.”

What in the heck?  Is that my new phone chirping?

Nope. Not an electronic device, an organic one.

A real life bird had flown in the open kitchen door, made its way through the living room,  and down the hall  into my office. “Okay little bird,” I said. “I know birds are messengers. Do you have a message for me?”

No response.

I closed the office door and we did a fly-by, a two-point landing, numerous bashings against the walls, a hiding behind the desk. I tried to reassure him that he had nothing to fear, I was going to carefully carry him outside where he could once again be a free bird.

Finally he flew into the walk-in closet. I closed the door and I caught his quivering little body and carried him outside where I released him happy into the sunshiny morning air.

My message?

You have nothing to fear. Don’t kill yourself by bashing against the walls. Trust that everything will be all in divine order.

We still have no word that the house we have applied for to rent is ours—you know, wait through one weekend, through the 5 day week, then into Good Friday and another weekend, this one being Easter weekend.

We have continued to pack around here. Husband Dear has a ton of electronic equipment, some from WWI and you know how heavy electronics were then. When I complained to him--he being in Oregon, about how much heavy equipment he has he said, “Oh there is a plane engine in the garage.”  

 

Now, how in the heck are we going to lift that?

Two more days, a washer, a dryer , a refrigerator , a plane engine, parts of a Gyrocopter, and miscellaneous stuff to be loaded into the 6^thU-Haul POD. (We ordered another.) I pray it will not be too heavy.

We are leaving Temecula California Tuesday April 2, aiming for Eugene Oregon. That is Daughter, grandson, two dogs, two cats, two goldfish, and me in a pickup truck.

The Beverly Hillbillies are at it again.

And look what we found last night.  An Easter surprise!

All day the owner and helpers had been working. Last night we checked on the results of their labor, and found in the huge storage building behind the house a nice sawdust lined pen, and under heating lamps, at least 200 baby chicks.

Grandson had a ball.

 

There I Am, All Over The Place

Blog march 24, 2013

They say that those little dust bunnies one finds in the corners of the house are largely sluffed off skin. Disgusting huh?

We're packing, packing, packing, cleaning cleaning cleaning.

We have 5 U-Haul Pods parked in the driveway, each, 8 x 5 x 7.5 feet, and will hold 2,000 pounds. I figure Daughter Dear and I will have lifted, scooted, dragged or shoved 10,000 pounds, except this week she is doing the lifting. Right now for me lifting a toothpick is murder on my back. Come to think of it, I don’t even need a toothpick.

Chiropractor tomorrow. He’ll fix me up.

As I mentioned in the last blog we are going back to Eugene Oregon, back to daughter number one, grandson number one, and the green green grass of home. We’ve gone full circle in the last 3 years. It has been 3 years and 3 months since we left Eugene, sent our vehicles and a packed a shipping container on a freighter across the Pacific to Hawaii. We flew behind them, all of us,  two dogs, two cats, five suitcases, three adults and one 7-month-old grandchild. On the Big Island we found that while we make great tourists, we make lousy Polynesians.

Enter California, and now Oregon.

This past week we circled Eugene more times than a 747 awaiting news from the control tower to land in a blizzard—online  of course. We were searching for a place to rent.   Peaches qualifies for their under 30 pound dog specification, but not 150 pound Bear. If they only knew that Bear is really a rug, and that he is the most gentle, well-mannered dog you can imagine, chases coyotes away, and Newfoundland’s are considered Natural Baby Babysitters. The only danger is tripping over him.

“Somewhere there’s a place for us.” Oh Gosh I was the best landlord in the world, the renting applicant said he didn’t have stellar credit rating, and I didn’t check. I didn’t want to know.  And animals? Great, bring them on. He was the most conscientious tenant and ended up buying the house.

We are blessed.

This morning while waiting for the truck to be serviced I learned a fascinating factoid. “For an afternoon pick-me-up nap, drink a cup of coffee immediately before the nap. It takes 15 to 20 minutes for the caffeine to kick in, and it serves as a natural alarm clock. On top of that you will awaken refreshed.”

Also this morning I read the little booklet The Ultimate Secret (To Getting Absolutely Everything You Want), and noticed it was written by J.D.

J. D? That’s me! Joyce Davis, Jewell D. I’m not taking credit for that booklet. It was another J.D. who wrote it and didn’t put his name on the book because he said it was not he who was important, but the message. How cool is that?!

 

 “I think about Selim who prays at every farewell to the day. There are acts of humility that make a man great.” --Erri De Luca Three Horses

A Week in the Life of...

Tuesday:  It’s 3 a.m. Husband Dear and I drag ourselves out of bed. I run down to open the chicken cage, yep it’s still dark, but a rooster crows anyway. Husband and I throw ourselves into the shower and an hour later we are winging down the freeway aiming for the airport in San Diego. HD is going for a job interview in Eugene Oregon.

I spend a few hours San Diego, our old haunt, for we used to live there. I pull into Spanish Landing over- looking the bay, and sit to edit some material.  A homeless man pushing a bicycle loaded like a hay wagon of India struggles with his load down the sideway in front of me. I drive the short distance to Point Loma Seafood for lunch. It is my most favorite seafood place ever where they produce the best crab sandwich in the world—sour dough bread, crab, tartar sauce, that’s all. Add few lemon slices, on the side, a glass of iced tea and it’s a perfect lunch. I go back to Spanish landing where the homeless man is there again pushing his load down the sidewalk.  I contemplate what his story is, he’s had a life, he’s lived to be middle aged, but I don’t feel like approaching him. While I am wondering about the man, another man, seemingly a put-together-fellow, walks past him, stops, turns around and shakes his head. Dan Millman’s quote pops into my head, “You never know who the master is.”

As I am leaving Spanish Landing a lady with a dog almost as big as Daughter’s Newfoundland stops beside me. The dog has his head out the car window. He’s obviously an elder dog for his muzzle looks dipped in powdered sugar.  He and I smile at each other. The lady driver rolls down her window, “They are great aren’t they?  I see you have your little one with you (meaning my poodle Peaches).  “Don’t turn on the red light here, it’s not safe.”  I reassure her that I won’t. We say good bye to each other, wish each other the best and drive our separate ways.  You never know who the master is.

End of day. Husband Dear got the job.

We’re off to Eugene, the place where we began this circular journey three years ago.

Off to the daughter. Off to the grandson. Off to old friends. Off to the Douglas fir forests of Oregon. They’ve missed me. I’ve missed them.

Monday, it’s 7 a.m. The Prius is packed with an entire shop. The back seat is down, a table had been dismantled and shoved in, a lathe sits on the table’s flat surface along with a small C&C mill, tools galore, boxes packed up to window level, data HD needs. He loads the front seat with a suitcase, some papers, a few dozen eggs for daughter. I jam in her order of some oranges, lemons and grapefruits.  We slam the door before the contents ooze out like so much Pepto Bismo. HD and I kiss goodbye, and he’s off.

Daughter Darling and I are packing.

Wednesday 10 a.m. Husband Dear calls me from his new office—first day on the job. Yea! Good job HD.

 

Peaches and Bear ready for another road trip...Peaches says, "Look whose sleeping on me--hey, I'm the little dog."

I'm a Wreck

I’m anxious, nervous, anticipating a major life change if only it would materialize.

From all my metaphysical studies, seminars taken, books read, meditation done, and friendly advice from people I know and love, I ought to know better than to stress out over things I cannot push, shove, or cram into a box. But no, I sit here crying on your shoulder.

Have you ever talked yourself into believing your heart’s desire is coming true? Have you ever told yourself, “I know the Universe provides. I know it has always taken care of me,” and then adrenalin pumps through your bloodstream as though you have just stripped the threads of your safety valve?

We are waiting for word that could change the course of our lives. And it is the weekend, two days of nothing—wait until Monday, maybe something will materialize on Monday. This has happened for three weekends in a row.

But wait, perhaps it is all working out. Perhaps it is forcing me into a position of trust. What is it I have been preaching for oh so many years? “Your expanded self is driving the bus," to quote Robert Scheinfeld, "you can’t make a mistake, mess anything up, or blow it. You just trust your Expanded Self and flow with what you feel inspired or motivated to do, moment to moment.”

But we might ask, am I listening to my expanded self or that other one—that one that is stressing out.

I know that after the work is done, that being in a happy peaceful place in one’s heart and mind is the way to bring about whatever it is one is wanting.  I know that listening to the negative mind-talk pushes it away. And so I am going to make my mind happy and go to a place where wild horses run, a place where I can feel the wind in my hair, and all around green pours over the hillsides, and yellow flowers dot the landscape, and I hear the plunk of a frog as it plops into a gurgling stream, and off in the distance I hear children laughing.

I fell off the turnip truck at 7 o’clock this morning. I am climbing back on at 11:00.

Jo

P.S. I looked for something to make me happy and found this. And so in parting let's "Wish on a spotted pony."