nautilus

here is miles' version of the chambered nautilus we saw today at the new california academy of arts and sciences. today felt kind of cosmic. maybe that word is in my head as miles has a new buddy named cosmo. but we walk up a huge hill in the sunny morning, listen to bootsy collins on a playground looking over huge dilapidated projects full of poor people, beyond them the bay, the shoreline jagged with docks and warehouses and pointy rusting metal boats. maya and i stop at the cafe on the hill so she can play with the owner's daughter and i can talk neighborhood politics with the owners. we keep walking back down and meet up with our old neighbor molly. at the park i exchange numbers with a mom i meet. skaters whiz around us, young, old, fat, thin, speedy looking, healthy looking, staying on or falling off. maya conquers the hanging net and makes a little boy friend.

and after school i take the kids to this fabulous new museum in golden gate park , full of light and glass and water and plants with fish, alligators, seahorses, penguins, turtles. huge photos and paintings show the earth and inhabitants for the last 4 billion years. whale bones float overhead. sharks and skates bicker for shrimp and squid a museum worker tosses them. i know that many of these exhibits touch on the crisis going on in the earth's environment but we don't read them today.

on the way home miles is asking about how long creatures live, and i lie again and tell him that i won't die before him, although at this point i think he suspects i am lying. the kids spend a whole peaceful 30 minutes drawing together in the late afternoon light on the back deck. we spot a family of mourning doves. before bed i start sorting through a box of old journals and memories my parents have been storing and find a book i wrote and a teacher typed in first grade. not so different from this blog. there is a story titled the country in which i declare i like country things better than city things.

buenos noches

dreams and rock spirals

i have been having a lot of dreams about partying. wild parties with all kinds of people, even a dream starring many old friends and new ones--including a young teen mom with a baby with craniofacial anomalies and an actor from hill street blues--having a big party in my parent's house and OOPS--drinking all their fine sonoma county wine. (sorry mom). what do these dreams mean? i miss my wild side? i need to write about my past? my subconscious is in need of a good professional overhaul?

i sure don't know.

mondays and fridays i walk miles up the big hill to school, pushing maya up a, what, 90 degree slant in the stroller. lately we have been joined by one or more of miles' schoolmates on the way, which is cool. we walk over the river of cars on the freeway. past the ambulances whoop whooping to the hospital and cars with kids going to starr king honk at us sometimes. at the top of the hill across from the school is a big open space with a panoramic view of the city and little criscrossing paths to run on. one day we saw a black and white cat stalking a group of innocent pigeons. another day miles and a friend found broken pieces of a thick white plate he gave to me to take home for a mosaic. if i see broken glass (and i do) i pick it up and throw it away.

yesterday we found this, the spiral rock maze, otherwise known as a labyrinth. it was unexpected and beautiful and here are my kids running around it finding the center.

i tried it too.

jimi rocks the school yard

school update, mostly for grandparents:

well, the kids are in new schools and so am i. i still feel queasy inside that we have out our son in a school program where 90% of the instruction is in mandarin, but (repeat to self many times) i think it is going to be okay. he is going. no tears yet, just a few evening meltdowns. looking isolated in the after school program, but he looked like that at the start of pre-school, too. miles can count in mandarin now!! and he did his first homework packet quickly at the kitchen table, while maya painted her hokey fisher price coloring book.

they play different music each morning at starr king while the kids show up on the playground. salsa one day, funk the next.

yesterday they were playing JIMI HENDRIX. how cool is that???

and maya came home with tortillas she made with her teacher at baby school. and kisses her teacher goodbye, and talks about her little boyfriends there. and gives me about 10 fierce hugs and kisses but doesn't cry when i drop her off.

so, it is all okay for now.

i walked up 24th street to guerrerro tonight and met 2 newish friends for drinks at an irish bar. they are sweet and smart. we talked politics while our husbands tended the children. sarah palin makes us all sick.

it was a cool clear night with a bright white moon and i got a ride home.

night night

maya's pink dream

upon awakening, looking very confused, maya tells me, "the octopus is fighting with the pink princess. in the pink sea. with the pink shirt. the pink pink birthday. the octopus happy now."

and another shot from fabulous fairyland.

no car day with sky parade

i didn't get in a car or bus today, which was nice. two park visits, time to check out the windows and art on 24th street, the flowers and trees and painted houses in our neighborhood. there didn't seem to be any fear in the air today, just a lot of energy with the end of the heat wave.

in the skate park we sat on the hill with our very pregnant friend and her visiting sister. maya wore her belle princess dress and miles pretended to be a bull or battering ram to get my attention. the park was brimming with life: skateboarders whizzing around curved walls, kids running and kicking balls, swinging, rolling down grassy hills, climbing trees, and pinatas and balloons and the delicious smell of grilled meat and charcoal lighter fluid.

as we were leaving we saw a group too intriguing to ignore. a dad, handsome as david bowie, and two 8 or 9 year olds, lugging and pushing dollies and bags with 2 motors, air tanks, a big bag of stuffed animals, and a huge u-shaped black pvc pipe, about 8 feet tall. we followed them onto the field and discovered it had been part of a burning man installation, the Penguin Blaster, and was now being utilized to salvage a play date gone sour. my kids helped stuff animals into the tube, and after a lot of false starts the motors were going, an air tube was hooked up, a valve was pulled and BOOM an anteater, teddy bears, madeline doll, little dogs and cats and a green fish sailed 100 feet into the air and fell gently back to earth. the kids screamed with happiness and went to retrieve them and after about 10 more explosions and the addition of some big kid skateboard physicist helper the first boy announced that it was a sky parade.

we left and watched some men playing congas by the park exit. i remembered for the moment why we live here, it is because i just love it here too much to leave.

plates

last night i heard gunshots. then sirens. i was going to the park today with maya and (probably unwisely) was drawn to the little gathering of people with candles and a bunch of black and red balloons. it was a couple of big latino teenage boys, swigging vodka from a paper bag and reeking of weed. what happened? i ask. i heard the shots last night. 2 people shot and killed, the biggest guy told me. were they your friends? i ask. yes. i'm sorry, i say about times, and it is a wierd feeling, my eyes lock on with the big gang kid and both of our eyes well up with tears.

sad but scary scary scary. gang warfare going on in my neighborhood. and reading my friend's blog in oaktown some scary crime there too.

all day in the neighborhood i felt a twinge of fear, and a suspicion of bad judgment. should all of us stroller pushers out in the sun be in our homes with the doors triple bolted?

we meet a friend at miles' school and soon the boys are running around the water park in their underwear and chocolate stained faces, maya joyous and speedy in a wet saggy diaper, while we hear neighborbood gossip and venting about the violence happening. later other friends come over and we get buzzed on white wine and pizza while the kids watch a movie and draw and hold guinea pigs.

and at bedtime there is a short strong earthquake. i am more buzzed then i thought and am lying eyes closed on the trundle bed while miles asks me about the plates in an earthquake. i realize he thinks we are resting on many many dinner-type plates which are moving back and forth.

is this about how safe we are? drinking our wine and raising our kids on top of a foundation of millions of loosely stacked white china dinner plates, ready to be shaken at any time?

mostly pictures

images:
mandarin kindergarten influenced art with some characters i can't read.
greetings from fairyland.
our new buddies ajax and prince mermaid.

i'm outside on the deck in the dark. a little girl i met at work today told me that sun plus rain equals rainbow. in the house 20 yeards behind ours some friends are listening to loud salsa music and trying to learn a dance together. their laughter falls right down on me and i imagine what they look like whirling around the room, making the funny faces people do as they try new dance steps. i barely know what these neighbors look like and wish this wasn't so. underneath our deck my neighbor is reading her book and smoking her cigarette. global warming was in full effect today, whatever the horrible republican vice-presidential candidate thinks, and the cool night feels good. the kids have just passed out and rich and i are shuffling around like the exhausted zombies we are. maybe someday i will have the energy to learn a new dance. for now, buenos noches amigos.

when will we live next to a river?

what grade will i be after kindergarten? how old will i be when i am done at my school? when will i be able to write hard chinese letters? could we cool down the sun if we put a million pools around it? what happens when you stay under water too long? do some people who don't have enough food to eat eat GRASS? if they don't have enough food to eat do they die?

i'm used to my daughter wiggling and squirming way past bedtime. now miles is doing it too, but squirming and wondering and processing verbally, so many big questions.

and my son wants to live next to a river. this is a consistent wish. which is how i grew up, in my early homes. one river basically a storm drain, but good for dams and frog eggs and finding treasures and mica and clay nonetheless. and the other in a huge woods, with The Big Rock to dive off, a hook sunk into it that once tied up big boats, minnows and catfish, a beach across the way, creepy swimming snakes, even an occasional family of nudists. the sun hitting the sandy other side that you could swim to if you fought hard against the current.

how are all these things related? i'm not sure. but in these hectic days of new teachers and schools and students and families and schedules and after school programs, for all of us, i am wondering myself, when will i ever live next to a river again?

life is feeling short now that i am 40.