Messy Gardener

I put up some photos on my garden blog taken earlier today. The plants were an inspiration to think positive thoughts tonight.  :-)

Ruby Tuesday Travels Back in Time

I was inspired by Ralph of Airhead 55 (out of Connecticut), who often posts photos from his childhood and of his own children. Thanks, Ralph!  Here are The Girls going for a walk up a country road.  The one in white is the older sister, but by only sixteen months! This was taken in Spring of '92. They were three and four. Now they are twenty-two and twenty-three.  Yikes.

" We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it. "

~George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss, 1860

What's been going on with all of you? How did February decide to treat you?
Fondly, PS

To see other Ruby Tuesday participants, click here

Happy Hour Friday

 Concrete Blond

Alice

 This goes out to the Cunning Runt because it's that time again.  :-)  Stay off of ladders after ice storms for me, will ya?  :-)

Friday Happy Hour

I have striven to give The Pagan Sphinx blog a slight touch of the art museum. At least that's what the blog has evolved into. A sort of scrapbook I'm keeping for therapy.  I'm not inclined for some time now to discuss a lot of personal details on the blog. I'm afraid that the more personal aspects of my life have to be dealt in the forum of the actual world; up-close and personal.  :-)

I want my blog to be something I do because I love to do it. The drama of my own life is not something I can readily adopt to the blog page. If you know what I mean. That means for me, keeping it simple. I like my drama in doses of entertainment, but when the shit hits the fan, I have to just confront it. 

I'm sorry if that sounds cryptic. What I want to say, simply, is that I may be absent and/or distant for as long as it take me to sort things through.
 
In my strong attempt to be forthcoming, I invariably end up being cryptic without meaning to. To complicate matters, my computer has been behaving badly. It is long over-due that I buy a new one but it is just not possible with one child still studying at a university and all of its related expenses. 

I have, at this point, given up posting an image to this post, as the computer just keeps getting stuck.

I will see you all once in a while,
Pagan Sphinx

I want to read blogs and not comment for a while. So just know that I am around. Those friends who have my email address, please keep in touch.

Peace,
Pagan Sphinx

Music for Friday

As Grateful Dead fans go, I'm assuming I'm a bit abnormal in that I always always liked their studio records better than live video or even live performances.

And I always liked the album cover art on Wake of the Flood.

The Best Thing I've Read All Year

 I saw this on my niece's Facebook page (thanks Ms. M) and it struck home:  I'm the mother of an openly gay, married daughter and I live just a hair south of the state of Vermont. The "V" stand for "Very"( mixed bag). While marriage equality is now the law, there is this mix of people that appear to really clash over a couple of issues:  not the least of which is civil and legal rights for GLBT people. The battle over legal unions was hard-fought in Vermont in 2000, and in 2009, marriage for GLBT people become legal.


This link takes you to a letter to the editor of the White River Junction, Vermont newspaper, from 2000, yet the spirit of this letter is timeless.

What's Goin' On - It's a Snow Day!

I love snow days. Some of my co-teachers don't like snow days because it means we have days to make up at the end of the school year. I don't mind getting up and going to work in good weather, so a few extra days of school tacked on in June doesn't bother me one bit.

It's really pretty out there but I still have a lot to do to get the house ready for my mother's visit. I'm actually enjoying the domesticity of it all. At this stage in my life, I much prefer the domesticity thing to the student thing.

As some of you know, I've embarked on a journey through "higher education" to try and obtain a masters in education, with emphasis in special education, including a additional teaching license. In Massachusetts, they aren't cutting anyone any slack. And did I mention it's expensive? And why did I not suspect more strongly that the quality of this education would be mediocre? The classes are all at night and and in the summer. I don't mean to be a snob, as I was educated exclusively by public education and I work for the public school system. However, the quality of the instruction for night classes is fairly pathetic. Sigh. So I'm re-thinking if I want to continue pursuing this. I have a job and I'm not sure that the pay-off is worth what I will get back. What it would mean is that I would have more options outside my own school district. Hopefully at a slightly larger school with better resources.

The state of Massachusetts can more than afford to make the requirements stiffer. I don't know what the statistics are, exactly, but there is a very large pool of people wanting to enter the field of education right now including unemployed career-changers. Those who are already teaching, are swarming to update licenses and to obtain additional licenses that make them more flexible to their school districts.

I have a snow day from school to experience. What am I doing talking about school? 

 I haven't been taking many pictures for months now but I do have this one to share from last winter and it looks much like today. This one's from January of this year and there is a lot more snow on the bushes. Today we got 6-8 inches, I'm guessing. I haven't listened to a radio or turned on a TV today. I haven't had lunch yet. There is some Chinese take-out from last night for lunch. And then it's back to domesticville. I like the look of the snow from the cozy house.

Over the weekend I accomplished what seemed like an overwhelming task until I really tackled it:  cleaning out a closet in the upstairs bedroom with the remains of four teen-age girls. Wait. No. It's not that gruesome. It's really about objects from the past lives of four young women:  my two, who are 22 and almost 21 and WP's two who are 25 and 27. The only one of them now who keeps an address here is my younger SG2 who a junior in college in Boston.

Several phone calls were made and some determinations were made about what would be saved and what would be throw out or donated. When all is said and done, I took out of the closet (and from a couple of drawers) two large bags of trash and three large bags for Sal's. I reclaimed the closet. It's neat and clean and organized. I made room for my suitcases, which are always being shuffled about. The room itself looks really good. It's so 1950's with its built-ins, painted light yellow. And oh the charm of a hardwood floor that a teenager once took red permanent marker to, circa 1999. It's mostly covered up with a rug. When I whine about it, WP tells me "put it on this list" and sighs. The list grows ever longer. Sigh indeed.

Among the things remaining in that closet, one thing strikes me most:  the two wedding gowns; the ones my daughter and daughter-in-law wore on their wedding day when they up and eloped to San Francisco to take advantage of their right to marry. It was a right that was to last only a few short months in California but their marriage is legal, even after the passage of Prop 8. It was mind-boggling the planning they had to do in advance to make the decision to marry when they did. For practical and legal reasons, they had to marry in California and they knew that there would be a small window before they took it away again. So when people comment that my twenty-two-year-old is too young to be married, she responds politely with "so people tell me" and smiles. So do I. Although I did think she was too young to get married. And a year later, I fully understand. She's happy, she is working hard for Americorps and she's putting her ducks in a row for graduate school. And she's married. To a wonderful young woman - my fifth daughter, really.  That makes me smile. Girls. Girls. Girls. I love it.

WP's oldest, M lives in San Francisco and early this summer, so early this summer, I fly to Santa Barbara to spend time with SG1 and the Beloved and then flying to San Francisco to visit WP's daughter. Two birds on the west coast and two on the east coast. So Far.

SG2 is flying the nest more slowly. Given her nature since babyhood, I am not surprised. She struggles with college sometimes in that she is at a big university and things have a tendency to get boggled more as a result. She's not sure if she wants to be a journalist now and she is considering a master's in another field. She is an excellent, talented writer but if she is going to have any financial autonomy, she has to put her skills to use and be able to support herself. She loves Boston and she's made some very close friends there. Her boyfriend since September is a BU student as well and plans on sticking around. Another child to fly away soon. And you never stop worrying about any of them. We are very fortunate, though. We worry because it is the nature of parents to do so but we thankfully don't have much to seriously worry about with this bunch. I am always grateful for this.

SG2 relaxing outside the MFA

I will leave you with another photo from a wintry last year. I did speak of birds and nests, didn't I?  ;-)

If you're interested, the post below is on America artist Milton Avery. Tell me which is your favorite!

What's Going On and Bipolar Article (long post; good article)

 (This is one of those blog award virus images that was floating around. I kind of like it to represent my honest scrap today. Thank you to (I think) Utah Savage for sending it the way of The Pagan Sphinx.)

I'm currently experiencing a sort of blog frenzy. In a couple of weeks blogging will become a low-priority for me, as I will be starting two new classes that overlap by a few weeks. There will a lot of travel and much to do and then it's the holidays. My mother has let me know that she is seriously considering visiting for the holidays, from Portugal. She has two little great-grandchildren (my brother's grandchildren). The last time she saw her GGD was when Anna was three months old. I have mixed feelings about her coming in winter. She doesn't do well in the cold or cooped up in my brother's suburban mansion. My house is too old and dusty for her. I'm really very afraid she'll get sick here.

My brother, whom I'll call Dr. Phil, is being a selfish jerk as usual by putting the squeeze on our mother to come for the holidays and otherwise laying a guilt trip on her about how her great-grandchildren are growing up and she's missing it. Ugh. He could go visit her. Dr. Phil, my nephew with the little kids and his wife are very well off. They could collectively more than afford to rent a flippin' villa near my mother's house, if they wanted to. My brother just has made no progress in getting beyond is anger at my parents for having moved back to Portugal for their retirement.  I too was saddened that my children would grow up largely without their grandparents' regular guidance. But I have been over that for many years now. In fact, now that my father is gone, especially, I think my mother is much better off living out the rest of her life in Portugal. She has many family and friends within walking distance, so she doesn't need to drive. She takes the bus and train to medical appointments and if she is truly in need of private transportation, those same family and friends are available to drive her and are, in fact, happy to do so. My brother had been putting a lot of pressure on her and on me to support his "position", to move back to the U.S. And I know that is not what my mother wants. She's told me over the course of a lot of conversations over many years, that that is not what she wants. Why my brother can't accep that must be between him and his shrink. I certainly hope he has one, as he is truly in need. And I am dead serious, not a mean-spirited bone or wish in me. I hope only the best for Dr. Phil ( and that nickname does make me smile a bit wryly).  I just wish he would lay off.

If only you could see Dr. Phil in action. He's tempered himself a bit over the years but I've lost count of how many times he hung up the phone on me in conversations we had a couple of years ago, during a particularly troubling period in my life:  SG1, as I wrote about above, was in one of many psych wards and my husband and I were splitting up. He called to demand information about my daughter's "problem", as he put it. He accused me of "killing our parents" (my father was still living then) by telling them about SG's mental illness. I was fit to be tied and I told him the conversation was over and he ended it himself immediately by hanging up.

The other significant time Dr. Phil hung up on me had to do with his preemptive strike against me over how I should quit my summer school job one week into it (and I really needed the income then) to go care for my mother upon her release from the hospital after gastric cancer surgery. I hadn't even had time to digest (pardon) the news when he's on the phone telling me that I had to go and that doing so would become my "defining moment" (that's why I dubbed him Dr. Phil) He was really busy, you see planning his vacation. When I took issue with his confrontational attitude and not so much with what he was wanting me to do, which I naturally ended up doing because it was the right thing to do for my mother, not because he was brow-beating me into it. And I told him so.

My mother asked my opinion last weekend of whether she should make the trans-Atlantic flight to Boston a couple of weeks before Christmas. I told her that was up to her and how she feels physically and emotionally about the trip and insisted that it should be her decision and her decision only. In typical Maria-Style, she kept she kept urging me to elaborate but I stuck to my line. I am not getting in the middle of that one!

They are writing sudden flurry and frenzy of notes in my medical file these days. It is nothing serious but I'm having to jump through some hoops for the medical system so I can be properly treated for chronic UTIs. If don't know the acronym, I'm glad for you. If you know it all too well, I'd be happy to comiserate. ;-)  I have one more appointment with the handsome Spanish urologist (he wears clogs. I have this thing for men in clogs) heheh.) and then I should be set-up with the proper treatment. I have tried every bloody thing under the sun to take care of the UTIs with more holistic approaches. We'll see what my options are.

SG1 and The Beloved are doing very well!  SG1 and I talk most days.The Americorps stint was really difficult for the first month or so her position, but she made it through with flying colors and really enjoying it. I'm not sure she wants to follow in her mother's footsteps as a teacher of young children, though her placement is at an elementary school where she is a literacy tutor for kindergarten and first grade. She's expressed a mild interest in perhaps being certified to teach high school. I listen and try to be supportive. SG1 is worried that she will not be able to do what she wants to do for graduate school. She is a brilliant girl and always has to have goals. And right now she is where she is and needs to finish this Americorps endeavor. With the economy the way it is, she may even have to do a second year of the program. She has two years to think about what she wants to pursue in graduate school. She mentioned law school again recently, which she hasn't done in a while. It bothers her not to know what she will doing in two years. It's interesting, because it bothers me to know what I'll be doing in two years. ;-)

SG2 is happy to be in Boston. I don't doubt she will stick around those parts when she is done with her studies. She loves the city and also that it's close enough to home that it's not such a big hassle to make the trip. She's very social and has a huge circle of friends. Funny how this kid was so shy when she was a baby, only coming out of her shell in around middle childhood. She has a new boyfriend, whom I'll  name Crocket. I have not yet met him but they are quite inthralled with one another. I've hinted plainly that he visit.  :-)

WP and I are just plain happy together. I love my dearly crazy, socially-inept loving weirdo almost-husband. 

 And yes, the time for slacking will soon reach its end. 

Meanwhile, I have things to share with you. I just found a mailing from CABF - Child and Adolescent Bipolar Foundation. I don't trust large organizations like this entirely. One critism I've heard of CABF is that they receive generous contributions from Big Pharma and therefore may be more predisposed to advocating drug treatment for children. Which is still a controversial subject among shrinks, teachers, parents and physicians.

My experiences with CABF all involved using their website for informatin when SG1 had the ultimate teen meltdown six years ago and ended up in and out of psychiatric hospitals for the next two years. (Some of you who have read this blog for a while may recall a bit about that.) I found the website to be very helpful and informative and since the correct drug or drugs was the only way to go for my daughter, I read a lot about medications on the site also. I am, in fact, an advocate of people receiving what they need to get better, regardless of the type of condition. Taking the medication route is a personal/family decision.

I was encouraged today to read this article in the newsletter I receive from CABF, about adolescent bipolar disorder:
Young Adults May Outgrow Bipolar Disorder Source: University of Missouri-Columbia press release

This was a slice of my life. I was inspired by Spadoman Joe at  Round Circle.
Thanks, Joe and Peace

Oliver Stone on Hugo Chavez, Hugo Chavez on Hugo Chavez and Hugo Chavez on Venezuala

I am Portuguese by birth and categorically, Latina. Perhaps that's why I have always had an interest in and concern about Latin America. Particularly the long-standing U.S. aggression in that part of the continent. The thumb on the little guys down there, who are simply trying to govern their nations independent of U.S. control. Besides, I can understand Latin American Spanish better than Spaniard Spanish. ;-). I'm not quite sure why but sorry to digress.

I just reiceved this video in email from Just Foreign Policy, a group I support annually with any leftover pennies from the change jar. It's a clip from Oliver Stone's new film South of the Border and that title has just gone to the top of the list of movies I have to try to seek out very soon.

The quote I have for you below from the South of the Border is emblematic of the political values I grew up with in my family.

And perhaps this is one thing that keeps us going. The optimism, the faith, the hope. And the concrete evidence that we can change the course of history. It's possible, Oliver!

          ~ Hugo Chavez

Now watch...

Graduation Photos!

SG1 and Beloved had their graduation this weekend. Graduation at Mt. Holyoke is traditionally a two-day event. On Saturday, Laurel Parade was held. If you're truly interested in the meaning of Laurel Parade at Mt. Holyoke, click this link. Otherwise, in my own words, it's an event that celebrates both the graduating class and Mary Lyon, the college's founder. Ulumi from graduating classes as far back as the 1930's join the graduates in the parade and hold their own reunion events.

Day One
Laurel Parade

The women all wear white and carry what seems to be an endless garland of laurel. Above are SG1 and Beloved that I captured during a lull in the parade, since I wasn't content to sit in one spot, but followed the paraders to their destination...

Mary Lyon's grave.

There are no speeches, just a swarm of young women in white wrapping the laurel garland around the wrought iron fence and their guests looking on and cheering. It was all quite charming.

Below, SG1 and Beloved take a break after the parade to chat and review the rest of the afternoon's agenda for the family.

But not for long, as introducitons needed to be made between their families and some fellow graduates and friends. And so of course, I had to take pictures!

Day Two The Actual Graduation:

Mount Holyoke
One Hundred Seventy-Second Commencement

Empty ampatheater seating, awaiting the graduates.

SG1 Bachelor of Arts in Politics
magna cum laude & with thesis honors

Beloved Bachelor of Arts in Gender Studies
Cum Laude & with High Thesis Honors


From the graduation we came to my house for a small get-t0gether by the river, which included Beloved's parents and younger brother. It was wonderful to meet them. They're very excellent poeple.

Below are the graduates and to the right L.P., my younge step-daughter and on the far left my SG2.

The graduates/newly weds enjoying some cake...


and poignantly looking out over the river
(poignancy courtesy of the Cunning Runt) ;-)

Related links

Address was given by Irish president Mary McAleese.

Green Commencement at Mount Holyoke College. Every graduating class has a color and the color for the MHC class of 2009 is green.

Maine and D.C. Move Forward & More

Maine Statehouse Votes in Favor of Marriage for Same-Sex Couples

Washington D.C. Recognizes Same-Sex Marriage


This article at the Gay Rights blog @ change. org

Here is Ms. Vienna Teng with City Hall. I wish she would write a song about Massachusetts but that's okay. My daughter was married at this city hall, so I love the song.

And if you never read the post here on this painting...



it was painted by my dear friend Steve Emery, whose inspiration for it were my daughter and daughter-in-law's wedding photographs at taken at San Francisco City Hall last Fall. Every time I try to write about how much this painting means to my family and me, I get a bit chocked up and completely lose the words. But I think you know. Visit Steve's gallery. It is a very uplifting space.

I Don Wanna Grow Up

My poor little head is really spinning off its axle now, folks! I just today (in fact, the call woke me up before 9:00 a.m. on my vacation week; which has not exactly been my idea of a vacation; but more on that another time) got the low-down on the graduate certificate program in special education that I'm about to enroll in...tah dah...this summer! I will have July 9 through August 10 off. Cramming two courses into approximately 20 days. Oh, Joy.

I really need to conjure up a positive attitude for this, because as for right this minute I'm dreading it. I'm being a resentful baby. I know I"m way too young to retire (even though there are only about four strands of dark hair on my silver head) and yet at almost 50, I want to. Not because I feel old but because I'm still young! I think you follow my logic.

I just need to get this off my chest in one post before I move forward and sink my teeth into this new experience. Maybe it will be interesting. Maybe it will lead to a more rewarding career. It will definitely lead to more money; which I need to earn more of. Most importantly it will lead to freedom from the current confines of the school that employs me. Perk! There we go, I'm on my way to a more positive attitude!

Meanwhile, this song just about sums up how I feel. Sorry, friends, I'm too old and jaded for the Disney version. ;-)

REM, Earth Day and Thinking Green...

or trying to.

Somehow in my insane mind, this song Crush With Eyeliner by REM connects somewhat to the honest scrap stuff I revealed about myself. Nothing too serious goin' on in this brain right now... You can count on that... ;-) This one goes to the one I love - Omar.

Oh, go on - hug it! :-)

I hope you've enjoyed a memorable Earth Day
Wanna see the new blog? a meme called Think Green Thursday. Don't let the color name fool you, I'm really hoping it will have more substance than that, given its eco-conotations.
Come by and take a look. Perhaps you have something of your very own to offer? I'd like it to be eclectic and educational and creative, too.

What's Goin' On

photo by Pagan Sphinx

Flowers in Emily Dickinson's Garden Amherst, Massachusetts

Wow! I can't believe it's been an entire week since I've been to either of my blogs. I believe that's the longest stretch of time I've gone without posting something, except when I've been on vacation.

It was no picnic, though. I ran around a lot for Alice's service on Saturday, the 11th and I haven't stopped running since. There was stuff to do: calls and visits to make, thank yous to pass on, emails to return. I managed to get some yard work done but that's about it. The house, especially my room and workspace, are a total freaking mess. The good news is that next week is spring vacation week and I can try to get some things done without entirely sacrificing my mad time; time to just do what I want to do, have fun and enjoy the weather.

I want to thank all who sent good wishes and prayers and thoughts and love our way when Alice died. Your kindness is very much appreciated, as this has been a highly reflective time for me. Alice is the first very old person with whom I became friends. Every other loss has been an elderly relative: grandparents, aunts and uncles. It affected me more than I was prepared for. You start feeling the loss more as the days go on, especially when you're accustomed to seeing and talking to that person on a regular basis.

Ed: thank you for the Tongue and Groove CD! It was a very cool surprise to get that in the mail! I've yet to play it but "yet to" has my mantra lately. One of the reasons I'm looking forward to vacation is so I can listen to your bass! ;-) Best to Suzy and thank you both for keeping our family in your thoughts.

Bobbie, Dianne, JCF, Betmo, Cunning Runt, Susan, Linda, Steve, Lisa, Fran, Sherry, Thorne, Kenju and Daryl - you are all dear to me. Really. Oh, and Grandmere Mimi and Soulbrush, too. I hope I haven't forgotten anyone who so generously has remembered my family and me. Hugs and love to you all.

Bluebear2 - It's been much too long since we exchanged blog visits! I'm glad to see you are around and thus your blogs. I'll go over to see what you've been up to very soon. Your story is quite sad. We're hoping to keep Alice's house in the family and maybe even see grandchildren grow up there. But in the way future, who knows.

Aleksandra: welcome and thank you for the Easter greetings. I would love to check out your blog soon.

Utah Savage: Why, thank you for the award! I'm on my way there right now to pick it up. I kind of like that feeling of anticipation, don't you? We lead such exciting lives. Always busy picking up awards that define how wonderful we are! ;-) I'm glad this blog planet exists as a break from the ordinariness of daily life!

Enjoy your week and I hope to be a part of comments on all of your blogs starting...well...now!

As they say in Portugal "beijinhos" (little kisses)

Seven Deadly Sins: Sloth

Hieronymus Bosch
The Seven Deadly Sins and the four Last Things
(click to enlarge)

Kay's Seven Deadly Sins meme is up and running with sloth. So far in playing these meme, I've stuck to a non-confessional mode but for this one I think I'll make an attempt to write a little about my own slothfulness.

I was baptized Catholic. My father allowed it to appease my mother. After that, Mother became overwhelmed by life, I'm sure and neglected to keep trying to convince Father that my brother and I should be raised Catholic. My father was, for most of his life, a self-proclaimed atheist but later in life, he began to cave in to the whims of the Virgin Mary, who in Portugal is more popular than Jesus. I then began to consider him more of an agnostic, though he was hard-pressed to admit it himself.

So having no formal religious upbringing, I don't believe in sin as it's proclaimed in early Christian thinking. Or any Christian thinking, for that matter. But I don't say that to dampen the spirit of Kay or her meme but to illustrate how little regard I have for western religion. In other words, I'm a heathen, a pagan and a secular humanist, for the most part. With a deep, underlying sense that god is love and love is god and that is what's inside of each of us. When I am overwhelmed by the power, beauty and magic of this earth, I do wonder about a Great Spirit or Creator. But I'm not too hung up on what form or forms that could possibly take. I'm content to sit in wonder and refer to science, mythology and legend.

Having said that I don't really believe in Sin as punishable in any godly way, I must admit that if I did, Sloth would have to be my greatest sin. Especially in the last couple of years. I used to be very hard-working. I still work hard at many things: my job. Uh. My job. Everything else is always piling up: laundry, housework, yard work, lists of people to call, lists of things to do.

I'm torn between guilt and celebration at my slothfulness. I feel guilty because I grew up with a working mother who ironed the underwear every Sunday and kept the house spotless and dust-free. I feel celebratory because it's liberating not to be a slave to that crap. By the same token, it's taking its toll in that I feel even more slothful when I see what is piling up, become overwhelmed and turn my back on it.

I'm trying to find reasons for my slack. One friend said it's okay for me to be slothful because I only a couple of years ago sent my youngest off to college. Prior to that it seems it was nothing but work. Raising two busy daughters, working, getting them through high school and the whole college admissions process, going through a divorce, beginning a new relationship with new daughters and a future MIL. My friend thinks I'm entitled to some sloth. I'd like to seize on her comments and cave in to them, forever. But I'm not altogether sure this is a healthy thing to do. I'm now nearing the end of my rope in the sloth department.

I'm making myself do things. Forcing. Yesterday, I decided to go out and work in the yard to remove leaves and see what's popping up. It was tempting to take my camera and start taking pictures but I made a pact with myself that I would work for an hour and then go get the camera as a reward. It worked. I accomplished quite a lot, found some shoots of spring bulbs popping up and then felt entitled to take a drive and shoot more pictures.

Later in the day, I visited my future MIL, who is 87 and going downhill fast. I brought her some soup and we talked about her memorial service arrangements, which she has been very diligent in planning. I see her a few times a week but again, I have to force myself to go. It's really tearing me up to see someone I care about preparing herself for death. It makes sense that she do so. It means she's accepting that she won't last forever. But it's still a painful reminder of loss and regret.

I don't always want to be reminded of loss and regret. Another way in which I've changed. I wallowed in loss and regret for years. After finally beating down depression after many long years, I want to avoid the heavy emotional work of confronting it when I need to.

It appears that my tendency toward slothfulness is a mixed bag. There is a lot of freedom in it from the things that used to overwhelm me with depression, stress and anxiety. By the same token, I'm asking myself how long I want this to last.

My house is not clean. It's hard to keep clean. It's a house built in 1950. It has many nice antique rugs that create tremendous dust. If I were a good housekeeper, I'd have to vacuum daily. And I don't want to, so I live with the dust. I manage to make and keep a couple of rooms really nice.

Our bedroom is not one of them. It's like a dorm room we share. I'm okay with that. My desk is here. The filing chest from WP's father's old insurance office from the 40s and 50s, which is filled with art postcards, photographs, craft stuff and all sorts of odds and ends. WP has his piles of books. We have our TV where we watch a lot of movies. Our bed has a feather mattress top and a warm, down quilt. And there is my bureau with my collection of handcrafted (mostly) jewelry. We live and love and work and read and entertain ourselves in this room. Here is another example of giving up on expectations. My parent's room was for sleeping only. The bed was always made and everything was in its place, dust-free and perfect.

There have been times when I want that same order; when I wish I could turn a room into a place of beauty that stays the same no matter who has been in it. I have been striving for color and art in the parts of the house I can control. Otherwise, I think it is more important to live than to showcase.

I don't live alone. I want to avoid the trap of making up the whole house my way without regard to its history and the two generations that've grown up here. More importantly, this is WP's house as well as my house. The rugs are his. Most of the art is his. Some things are now ours. It's a mishmash of what happens when a blended family is created. Most of the time I'm okay with that.

I meandered a bit on sloth. But what all my words have in common, I think, is an attempt to try to balance what I don't want to do with what I have to do. I saw how hard both my parents worked to achieve some standard they had for their home. At times at the expense of just being and spending time as a family. I don't want to do that but I'm not always comfortable with th result of slacking off, either.

This is a struggle for me, not a sin. Interestingly the wiki entry for The Seven Deadly Sins indicates that the old form of sloth was really about the sin of despair and melancholy. In other words: what we now call depression. Its modern form is more like laziness and not utilizing one's talents. Looking at sloth from a sin perspective, I'm guilty of both. I was in a state of low-level depression for years, with the occasional clinical episode. And now I'm not depressed, just slacking off! See how complicated this slothfulness is for me? ;-)

What's Goin' On: Another Update

Thank you again and again for your good wishes.

Changes at work with a new hire and with that, a bit of adjustment and stress. Just a touch. I'm trying hard not to let it get out of hand. Suffice it to say about work: I'm at times amazed by the things that people will say about each other. Completely subjective, arrogant, bigoted and otherwise insensitive. Ugh.

I'm also fighting hard not to become a total recluse. Blogging is good for me in the sense that I maintain contact with people, albeit not face-to-face, but at least it's a form of socialization and community. Even blogging lately has felt like a chore. I don't know if it's because I've taken on too many blogging "responsibilities", if you will. Or if it has something to do with having been sick. Or even if this lack of motivation is perhaps a life-cycle thing? Does it have to do with peri-menopause? I'm changing, I know that. None of if is freaking me out much so far. In fact, all I long for is a sort of peaceful bliss all the time. But meanwhile, I feel guilty because I'm not accomplishing enough, either in the real world or in blogging.

I face a graduate program stint in the not so distant future and I'm flaked out about it simply because I don't want to be a student. Actually, I'd love to be a student. An art history student, for example. Instead I will be enduring a year's worth of crap, most of which I already know because the state feels I need this credential. And perhaps I do but it would be nice if there was an easier, sort of more home-grown, local way to go about it. Oh and did I mention affordable? Oh, there's such a shortage of special education teachers! Oh, yeah? Then why the hell is there no financial help available to obtain the credential? It's going to cost $10,000 for me to obtain this credential. Another non-incentive.

I need the credential because it will mean a fair salary increase and perhaps even, going to another school where the classroom environment isn't so ambiguous. It's hard to explain without going into great detail, which I don't want to do publicly. Suffice it to say that the communication aspect of my classroom environment is a struggle for me. With the other adults, I mean. The children are the joy of it and the least of my concerns.

To recap: I'm seriously lacking motivation for anything yet I am not depressed. I feel at peace inside, for the most part and finding it remarkably easy to love and care for others. My weaknesses are still a lack of patience with people who convolute things too much. And a lack of patience with those who don't open up to whatever extent is necessary to work together more harmoniously. And I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, too. I interrupt when I need clarification on something, which bugs people sometimes but if I don't clarify, then by the time they're finished, I will have forgotten to ask; this being especially true when I'm dealing with a very long-winded person. Right? I really just want to get the whole story. And I can be very straightforward with people if I need to cut right to the chase, which takes some people aback. I choose my battles but when I have to fight one, I'm pretty assertive. And I can be contrary during this process. It is precisely because of this tendency, that I have learned (the hard way sometimes) to choose my battles.

A little bit more about me that you may not have expected to read. I hope it's okay...

Love and thanks,
Pagan Sphinx


This was the other Frida Khalo that is at the MoMA. It's not a good photo and so better off reduced in size as posted.

A Brief History of The Pagan Sphinx

It's been a year since I started The Pagan Sphinx and I've never truly discussed how I arrived at the name. So, what exactly, do Emily Dickinson and William Bouguereau have in common?

I've long thought of myself as a sort of pagan, in the sense that I tend by nature to be a person who doubts the existence of god but who does not discount it altogether. An agnostic you say? Perhaps. But that sounds sort of cold to me for some reason.

I have also long been a fan of Emily Dickinson. Not only of her poetry but of the woman herself; so much of whom is shrouded in mystery; with the exception of her poems and letters. One day, as I was doing a search on her poems and letters on the net, I came upon this article by Gary Sloan, from which I've copied the following passage:

Dickinson's enigmatic nature shrouds her evolution from Christian manqué to pagan. She had histrionic propensities that obscure the line between her true beliefs and those she feigned. Intermittently in her 1,775 poems and nearly 1,100 extant letters (many poems were incorporated into the letters), she struck poses and adopted personas. "When I state myself as the Representative of my verse," she told Higginson, "it does not mean me but a supposed person." In early professions of impiety, she had a penchant for hyperbole and self-dramatization that render her claims hard to evaluate. Later, an authentic infidel, she accommodated orthodox sensibilities. Long after she had chucked belief in a hereafter, she continued to quote promissory biblical verses to assure bereaved relatives and neighbors they would be reunited with their deceased loved ones. When she was herself bereaved, she accepted the ministrations of clergymen. She even solicited platitudes on immortality, plucking at a twig of evidence.

In essence, Emily doubted, as I do; as many of us do. And Professor Sloan: if you ever read this, I would like you to know how much I enjoyed your article and how what you wrote about Emily Dickinson has helped to enrich my appreciation of her. Because Emily Dickinson lived in Amherst, Massachusetts, which is practically my backyard, I have an even more special reverence for her persona(s), her work and her life. Visiting the Dickinson museum has become an annual Spring pilgrimage for me. I eargerly await April when the tulips in Emiy's garden (or so I like to pretend it's still her garden) are in full bloom.

That's the history of the title of The Pagan Sphinx. Then there is the matter of the blog header. I think of this painting by Beaugereau on several levels. Firstly, it's a beautiful painting. It's also playful, pagan-like and the all-time favorite of a once five year old SG1, who upon her second or so visit to its home, the Clark Art Institute, begged for the refrigerator magnet of the painting and insisted on taking it to school for show and tell one week. And that event, of course, was only slightly marred by the ridicicule of the other kindergartners. My very loving and lovely daughter recently said to me: "See, Mommy, I had a thing for curvy women, even back then!".


And this painting is huge. See the photo of the room where it hangs in the museaum; taken by yours truly. It is with regret that I never took pictures of my children on all the family visits we made there. But it's not too late. I am planning such a trip this summer, when both girls are done with school. In fact, SG1 will be a college graduate and spending time with her parents and sister before she heads off to Santa Barbara with her Beloved. Lots of pictures, I promise myself!

I've thought a few times of changing the blog header but I'm not ready. Just like SG1's inevitable moving on to a new life, I'm still hanging on. One day, when the time feels right, I may change it. Meanwhile, I'm still very much attached to it.

That, my friends, is a brief history of The Pagan Sphinx and those nude ladies dragging the naughty satyr into the pond. I swear, I could make up so many stories about that painting, were it not for the permanent writer's block...

Good News!

Our family has been agonizing over where SG1 and her wife, The Beloved would wind up living after graduation from Mount Holyoke in May, 2009.

The worries have been many: my daughter and her fiance were married in California just a few days prior to the passage of Prop 8. Her wife, S.W. aka "The Beloved" is a CA citizen who has been studying at Mount Holyoke for four years along-side my daughter. The couple had decided that SG2 will take a one-year break before graduate school to mentally adjust to the challenge of applying to a joint Masters/Phd program. S.W. went ahead and applied to several universities in the state of Calfornia, her first choice being UC-Santa Barbara.

Their marriage is now considered invalid, which presents several challenges, not the least of them is graduate housing for couples as well as health insurance. SG1 is a bipolar individual who can only do well when on the correct medications - especially in light of the path she has chosen of pursuing academics the way she has. We've worried about housing options for our daughter and DIL, about whether SG1 will be able to find employment for a year before enrolling in her own Masters/Phd program.

Today, S.W. , who just returned from a visit to her parents home in Sacramento yesterday, recieved the excellent news that she'd been accepted to UC-Santa Barbara, in the newly created Department of Feminist Studies! The couple is giddy beyond belief. One hurtle has been mastered on the way to their west coast future!

I'm so incredibly happy for S.W. She's a brilliant, loving young woman who adores my daughter and strives to make her happy. I feel very proud and lucky to have her as my daughter-in-law.

There are still more hoops to jump through, though at least they know exactly where they're moving; assuming the university offers S.W. a good package. We're keeping our fingers crossed while awaiting the details.

By the way it's 61ºF / 16ºC, right now. The weather there will suit SG1 very, very well!

My lovely daughter-in-law