debilyn

I recently heard authenticity defined as when a person's thoughts, words and actions are all consistent. Good definition, I think. I have a friend who fits this definition very well, with some other desirable qualities thrown in.

David lives about 20 minutes from our house, in a one room straw bale house on the edge of a nature preserve. He believes in leaving a small footprint, so his house was built from materials on the land. He heats, bakes, and makes breads and jams with a small wood stove, cooks with a propane stove, and uses a small solar panel to power his telephone answering machine and a radio/cassette player. He has no TV or computer, but he wouldn't have time to use them if he did.

David works more hours than anyone else I know, living off the land and selling his produce and artwork. He plants fruit, flowers and vegetables, tends his gardens, cares for bees, gathers honey and wild berries, raises chickens, feeding them scraps from his gardens and table, sells produce to local restaurants and feeds their scraps and leftovers to his chickens, and sells an amazing plethora of produce, honey, jams, and eggs at farmers markets.

In between he finds time to help Tibetan immigrants improve their English skills, sponsor a Buddhist Stupa (a type of shrine), host frequent potluck celebrations of community, and paint. He paints sunsets, portraits, flowers, still life (with eggs, frequently) and whatever else catches his eye. One year he painted a sunrise every day, without missing a day.

Recently his barn, with his studio on the 2nd floor, burned to the ground. When I drove down to see if he was OK his first words were "I'm so glad you were here [for the Stupa dedication.] Did you see the rainbows?!" He was filled with thanksgiving for the friends who had come, and the firemen who had worked so hard not to destroy his gardens as they protected a trailer with many of his paintings, and with sadness that his work space, tools and paints were gone.

His friends are rallying around him, because he is the most loving, most authentic person most of us will ever know.

I spent a few days in Washington DC with my mom, visiting my daughter, her fiance and grandaughter Cali. The cherry trees were lovely too. New photos of Cali are up at cali.edancedesign.com

While there we discovered a breathtaking orchid display in the Museum of Natural History. A few of my souvenirs are at http://www.printroom.com/ViewGallery.asp?userid=jdfried&gallery_id=649086

Parts of the story aren't entirely clear. I was *carefully* making my way to the house, walking with my arms full of books and a bag over one shoulder and a bag of doughnuts in one hand. As I neared the front door I noticed the ice was starting to melt around the edges and figured I ought to get out there with a shovel and whack at it a bit before it got cold again. It must have heard me, because the next thing I knew I was smacking the side of my face on the ice. The pile of books cushioned my fall, but unfortunately they weren't quite tall enough to protect my face. I whimpered a bit, then decided I didn't really want to lay on the ice and get cold, so I got up, went in the house, dropped my stuff on the chair, checked the mirror for irregular pupils or gushing blood.. none present.. and grabbed a shovel.

I whacked away for 10 or 15 minutes, roughening the surface and smashing back the edges some. Then I went inside, and as I set the shovel down I noticed the flashing of a migraine aura. Great. I went upstairs and cleaned a few scrapes on my hands and face, took a couple of Advil,then lay on the bed to watch the pretty lights.

If you've never had a migraine aura you're missing out on quite a show. I'm told I have a classic aura, with *bright*, neon colors (yellows, oranges, whites, blues, all outlined invivid black) flashing in cool diagonals within curved patterns, and they change and drift sort of like the aurora borealis. Mine usually last 15-20 minutes, then disappear as suddenly as they appeared.

The headache was low grade.. nothing to get excited about. I did check in with my doctor's office, and they agreed I'm not experiencing any serious danger signs - my pupils are functioning in tandem, and I'm no more disoriented and confused than usual. Just try not to hit my head again. Good thing they said that, huh?

And now my body is objecting to what must have been a mighty effort to stay upright and protect my face.... I ache all over. But at least I can heal in the comfort of my own home.

I've been grumping to myself because several of my friends haven't posted anything interesting to their journals in weeks. But of course, neither have I. Naturally the word interesting is what keeps me from writing. Life is busy and full and fascinating, but my journal puts me to sleep. I guess you had to be there.

It's Thanksgiving weekend. The food has been very good. With the notable exception of John the beloved, family has been far away. The highlight so far has been imagining how we would spend our first million if we win Power ball, now up to about 64 million I think. Even after taxes we could do a lot of good and have a lot of fun. Now we've decided we need to work on our values.. as soon as we get the basement organized.

Here's our budget (most expensive to least):
House repairs & improvements
2nd house & furnishings (We'll have to live somewhere while this house is being overhauled.)
Gifts
Travel
Debts
New cameras & lenses
Car
General living expenses (food, mostly)
17-in. Mac Book Pros
Goodall Guitar
Dentistry
Clothes
Professional Advisers (tax, security, attorney, etc.)

To read my journals you'd think my life was really, really boring. But it's not! In reality I'm just so busy *living* my life I never seem to take the time and write, except when things get slow.

A quick update on the non-boring stuff:

Friday night we had 93 people in our living room, and Ember Swift on the stage with her band. They were awesome, and the standing O was not just to be polite. I'm pretty sure there would've been a riot without the encore. After the guests left we sat around with the band, eating a vegan dinner, and talking about food and community and other deep topics until around 2am.

Saturday night we spent the evening with 6 neighbors, all artists, cooking up a Spanish Feast. We sampled Spanish wines and cheeses, crafted and consumed yummy tapas (mushrooms with parsley sauce, honey baked chicken, deep fried avacados with salsa, and wrinkled potates with mojo verde), yummy paella, and finished up with flan and strawberries accompanied by sherry and port.

Tonight we saw Flook, a celtic influenced quartet, with 2 flutists, a guitarist and a bhodran player. They were very good, but I have a difficult time really getting into most Celtic music. Now my granddaughter is here, entertaining us well as John cooks dinner. I just hope she sleeps well tonight, because I need it!

"Hope it doesn't suck" is our traditional dinner time blessing. My frequent reply has been "It won't.. I don't smell fish." I like fish, but only if it's super fresh, as in just out of the sea.

When John is cooking lack of dinnertime suckage is something I can generally count on. I cook too, but my meals tend to be simply prepared and vegetarian; wholesome, but ordinary. John's are more likely to be exotic and complex with interesting textures and fabulous presentations. I usually have food on the table in an hour or less. He can spend all day whipping up a feast. I make soup and fresh bread... He makes pad thai, shrimp fra diavolo, or fancy little Spanish tapas. You get the idea. And at least 90% of the time John does the cooking. I am a lucky woman.

However... the other evening the fish let us down. To be more precise, the skate smelled like fish.. old fish. (John says it smelled like window cleaner.) Even before it hit the plates John was muttering warnings about the possibility dinner would be inedible. We took a couple of timid bites before tossing up the napkins and heading to Lupo, our favorite local restaurant.

Moroccan spiced bean soup, butternut squash ravioli with sage butter, and chicken salad with artichokes, asparagus, pine nuts and goat cheese. It didn't suck.

So, I was finally called to do my civic duty. I'd started to feel rejected, but now I can hold my head up proudly as a contributing member of society. I have made my "personal contribution to the attainment of the ideal of equal justice for all." And it was fascinating, really, and very little like any TV law shows I've seen. People were unfailingly polite to each other. Both sides were likable people. The plaintiff was a very nice woman who had unquestionably suffered. The doctor was a patient and kind hearted surgeon who believed in creating understanding and partnership with his patients- exactly the kind of doctor most people dream of having. We ruled unanimously for the defendant.

I now know more than any woman my size ought to know about barriatric surgery. Except how to spell it, of course. I can tell you in exquisite detail the difference between a simply restrictive surgery and a malabsorbtive proceedure. And I can run through gigantic lists of risks and alternatives. I can quote you the laws concerning informed consent. None of this is likely to add much to the quality of my life.

But there may be other long term benefits. I met 6 lovely people willing to sacrifice their personal time to the cause of justice. Tim and his wife are expecting their first child any day now. All through the trial we sat on the edge of our seats waiting to hear his beeper call him away. Kim is a delightful occupational therapist. Her medical background would have served us well had the case been less clear cut. Brian was an excellent chairperson, for all of the 20-40 minutes it took us to be sure we agreed on the verdict. We've exchanged emails and hope to get together again soon, hopefully with our spouses and Tim's baby.

I'm very happy to have my time back, but I already miss seeing the details of what happens in court. I miss the judge's clever wit. And I miss the gentle comraderie of 7 people who found common ground while spending most of a week forced not to talk about the thing most on their minds. We nearly burst when we were finally allowed to discuss the case!