One True Voice

First of all a disclaimer: I’m not sure I have only one true voice or even one life to live, but here goes.

What is your one true voice? And “what do you intend to do with your one wild, precious life?” I’m determined to scoot down to Provincetown one day this summer for the sole purpose of meeting Mary Oliver, the writer of that quote. Imagining tea and chat and hoping to get a polaroid or two. That and scattering Evelyn’s ashes. And popping in to say hello to Aimee. Just those crazy, random ways of meeting people to say hello (and goodbye).

But I understand from my favorite bookshop that Mary Oliver is very private, having turned down the New York Times for an interview. I will at least hopefully get to meet her in October when she celebrates Titcomb’s 40th anniversary with a talk. She’s on my Mondo Beyondo list though, as is a survival guide I’m starting to finally write.

** Photo From Beacon Broadside (the mention of St. Vincent Millay got me going on another post)

Wild Thing

I was working on a post about my crush on India today, but I can’t get Sister Carol’s version of “Wild Thing” out of my head.

My son’s doing an 80’s show tomorrow night down cape so I’ve been watching my favorite 80’s movies — Something Wild, Desperately Seeking Susan and Married to the Mob. They remind me of myself when I was in my 20’s and 30’s. The 80’s and 90’s. A magical and free-spirited time infused with love, life, adventure and heartaches.

So, I’m gonna be looking for some Sister Carol to download to my IPOD. But right now, I have the backpack loaded up with writing goodies, inspiration and am heading out for a 21st century adventure.

** Sister Carol’s image from her website, Something Wild from Amazon

A Time to Dance, No Time to Weep

I have been super busy today what with our website, domestic goddesshood, errands, and what not. And I don’t even have a paying job. I’m grouchy because I have a writing project and a self-discovery group I’m trying to work on and no time to devote to either. Granted, I like to call it creative unemployment, but dang, I’m busier now than when I was raising kids on my own and working outside the home to boot. I need some creative time. Okay, it felt good to vent here.

“Suppose, instead of living to get money to spend, we lived by not spending?”

~Rumer Godden from one of her memoirs, A Time to Dance, No Time to Weep

More Inspirations

Other bloggers who inspire me. McCabe, her humble and gentle soul, her awesome videos, and her welcoming spirit.

Jen Lemen for putting it all out there from the beginning even though she had no idea where she was going with it all.

Stef for hanging in there even when she gets discouraged, and inspiring me to do so too. Now she’s starting a new year fresh with some shiny ruby shoes that are gonna take her over the rainbow.

Pixie cuz she’s another Virgoan mystic who totally gets how sublime going into the mystery can be.

What’s that saying about making a difference? If you have made a difference to one person, you have made a difference to the world?

** postcard image from pixie campbell’s animama series **


I am a wanderer, a traveler, a gypsy, I love going places. My dad was in the Marines when I was growing up so I moved a lot up until the end of high school.

Southwest is running this spectacular sale through today. I’ve had a longing to revisit San Diego County where we lived my first two years of high school — I can only imagine how much it’s changed — Fallbrook, Vista, San Luis Rey, Oceanside, Julian, Escondido, Carlsbad, all those towns I remember — but Marty’s never flown and I feel guilty taking another trip without him. So, I’m thinking if we take advantage of this sale, either North Carolina (where I also lived), or Tennessee (never been there). I have a credit I have to use by January and these crazy offers Southwest has from time to time are just too tempting to my gypsy soul.

More Baltimore Magic

Here’s a couple of shots of my dream car — I saw it when we were out at St. Timothy’s on the first day of horseback riding camp. Even on a gray day, it looks like it can take you over the rainbow, doesn’t it? I love finding magic in our everyday world.

July 1st in the Summertime

I love July 1st in the summertime. It is Canada Day, Jimmy’s birthday and my daughter’s birthday. When she was little she always referred to it as “July 1st in the summertime.” So, the day she was born 20 years ago, I woke up and figured, “yeah, this could be it.”

She was actually due on Bastille Day. Rather than waiting around, we all went strawberry picking that morning with her “Evelyn Gramma” and her big brother “Guy Guy” (her babyhood names for them). We always called Anthony the “little guy” when he was younger. He was 5 when she was born.

I was scheduled for my evening shift that afternoon, 3P to 11P. I was a unit secretary in a trauma unit in Burlington, Vermont. It was a Saturday and sometimes weekends could be quiet. I went to work and as my contractions were increasing, I popped upstairs to L & D on my dinner break. My nurse-midwife, Linda, was on call that night,checked me out, and said “yep, you’ll probably have your baby by the morning.” This was around 5:30P. It ended up being one of those quiet Saturday evenings when the work is done early, and it’s pretty laid back around the nurse’s station.

Around 7:30P, I went to the bathroom, and my water broke, soaking my ankle socks and the floor. Rita, our housekeeper mopped up after me as Lorraine, our nurse’s aide wheeled me off the unit in a wheelchair, straight up to L & D. The nurse manager, who was there for Molly’s birth was quite impressed and asked if I’d be interested in working on L & D when I returned from my leave? We were all getting quite the chuckle out the whole scene.

By the time I had arrived on the unit I was 9 CM dilated so things were happening fast. Jacqueline and Anthony arrived before Jason did. My twenty-something sister was Anthony’s support person, but at one point I looked over at her, and it looked like Anthony was doing the supporting. She looked like she was ready to pass out. Jason arrived a bit toasted (celebrating beforehand I suppose) about 15 minutes before Molly was born at 8:48PM. All 6 pounds 9 ounces of a wee baby girl whom I was not expecting — for some reason I just figured I’d have another boy.

But, nope, I had the baby sister her brother had wished for just the day before. Only I didn’t name her Mary Anthony like he had asked, but rather Molly Rose. Here she is today with her friend Brian on their way to Provincetown.

(No birth pictures — they didn’t turn out except for the couple her brother took with his little Kodak 110 Instamatic. I was devastated when the film came back undeveloped from our camera. It was a 35MM and the film hadn’t engaged, so we basically shot a blank roll. However, the adorable little guy in Mickey Mouse scrubs, and the just born baby girl are treasured visions I hope to always remember).