My Renewed Vows - 30 Years Later!

30 years ago

If you looked at the odds

A challenging romance

Was noted by parental nods

Differences, we had quite a few

Sharp contrasts in personality

Most everyone knew.

You’re rational

I’m emotional

You’re frugal

I’m a spender

You’re a planner

I’m spontaneous

You’re focused

I’m fickle

You’re diplomatic

I’m outspoken

You crave value

I adore ambiance

You love classical

I rock to Middle Eastern

You are order

And

I am chaos

To this day they remain

And by magic it seems

We’re still together

Along with our dreams.

Your wisdom and kindness

Keep me in awe

Your love and integrity

Honors eternal law.

Your gentleness and patience

Saved my life

Not just once

Maybe more than twice.

As we continue our journey

From this moment on

Let’s treasure each other

As every day dawns.

We’ll be happy and proud

When we reach the end

Of our footsteps together

Lovers, lifesavers, parents

And forever best friends.

I love and respect you

And can’t wait

For the rest of our adventure together

What's Your Elevator Speech on Sustainability?

What’s Your Elevator Speech?

By Jeanne von Zastrow

Senior Director, Sustainability and Industry Relations

FMI

It’s always a good idea to have a few key “elevator speeches” in your mind just in case you run into that perfect person with whom you’ve been hoping to share your latest idea, strategy or cause. 

FMI’s Sustainability Executive Committee, consisting of sustainability experts from 22 companies, are creating a new toolkit for the industry on “Making the Business Case for the C-Suite” – and one element of that toolkit will be concise, customizable strategic language to help executives effectively articulate the business case in less than 60 seconds.   

Why are we doing this?  Because sustainability is complex and complicated, our industry – including C-Suite - often struggle to understand the scope of sustainability impacts and the bottom-line results for their activities in this area.  Sustainability is interwoven into every job and decision we make.  Yet, in many companies, executives are not precisely aware of how sustainability initiatives are effectively transforming the business, creating competitive advantages, spurring innovation, attracting new talent and opening up new revenue streams.

Many leaders are already seeing returns on investment related to store enhancements, from greener buildings to energy efficiency and waste. Innovative retailers are now moving to transform every activity – from the farm to the landfill – including sourcing, transportation, packaging, recycling, fair labor and empowering a new shopper generation.  An integrated sustainability strategy is a competitive advantage, critical to a brand’s image, and ultimately reduces risk within the supply chain.  

If you search the Internet, you will find a myriad of studies and resources that document the business case for sustainability.  There is no lack of hard evidence proving the value of a good sustainability program, but much of that great information goes untapped because it is either too generic or too lengthy and difficult to decode.  FMI’s members see a great value in translating existing information into our own language, and combining new, industry specific guidelines and case studies into one strategic tool that is customized to the retail food industry. As an association, we want to present information in a practical, hard-hitting format that is easy to navigate and customize.  

As a prelude to the development of the new toolkit, we will be featuring Bob Willard as a keynote speaker at the Sustainability Summit in October in Washington, DC, to speak about “Competitive Advantage and a Triple Bottom Line – Marking the Business Case to the C-Suite.”  Bob is a leading authority on quantifying and selling the business value of corporate sustainability strategies to the C-Suite, and he has created this presentation specifically for our industry.  He’ll present us with new ideas, customizable tools and personal examples to help attendees increase effectiveness as change agents in their companies.  His book, The New Sustainability Advantage, was released this year and his website is full of free tools and resources to get people started. 

The FMI Sustainability Executive Committee will present its new toolkit as a free gift to our industry – with the goal of helping the food industry move forward faster, together toward success.   The toolkit will be a concise and relevant way for you to develop and customize your menu of “elevator speeches” for that strategic moment when you can make a major difference in the direction of your company’s path to sustainability.

My Closet Rebellion

Got home late as usual,

Slipped into an exhausted semi-coma.

Awakened....

The racket and screaming shocked me

Into a bleary panic.

What IS that noise coming from the basement?

Even the dogs are howling, and they're outside.

Annoyed and too tired to be scared,

I held the rail and careened down the stairs,

And slammed open the triple sliding door

On the left side of the closet.

Was this where all the ruckus was coming from?

What the hell?

My closet had transformed into

A fashionista's "Alice in Wonderland"

Pandemonium reigned

And I was suddenly only 5 inches tall.

Spinning through a a whirlwind that rivaled Dorothy's.

Pants and shirts, dresses, skirts flying everywhere!

Luckily, I ducked a heavy leather blazer

As it crashed into a hostile gang of size 6 jeans

Screaming something about elasticity.

Sailing sideways, eyes wide shut

I was not at all surprised to see

That my entire wardrobe - each individual piece

Had suddenly become uniquely personalized

With faces, hair, hands and feet!

And cleverly,

The "make, model and size" were stamped boldly

On each item's expressive forehead.

Everything was swirling toward the extreme left side

Of the closet

Where the outcasts lived.

I could hear chanting.

It did not sound friendly.

The whirlwind zipped me along toward the sound

Through fuzzy, sticky cobwebs

Till I landed on the floor

In "no mans zone".

The size 2's were rioting

Attacking the size 4's and 6's

With moth ball grenades

And broken hangers

Some were carrying picket signs with slogans...

ON STRIKE !!

"Cruel and Unusual Punishment"

"No Fresh Air for 900 days"

"Jailed Without Light"

"Chocolate Stole Our Jobs"

The boots were trying to set up a barircade

While the gloves were working together

To grab the roudiest of the 2's and 4's from behind

(Especially those tie dyed Calvin Kleins

and skinny legged Ralph Laurens)

The leather gloves deftly blindfolded them with scarves

And stuffed them into the hanging Kate Spade purses.

You could see the pathetic prisoners kicking

And hear them screaming

Right through that expensive leather.

What a wild, ungrateful and unruly bunch.

To the center, the bigger 4's

Were in hand-to-hand combat

With the 6's

There was slapping, spitting, cussing

And a full-on cat fight that

Puts the Budwiser cat fight girls to shame.

You would not have believed what the

Diane von Fursterberg wrap-around dress

Said to the Max Mara suit.

All just because the latter had been worn

Once -- a "lean" 6 months ago.

Oddly enough,

All the Prada's were fanning themselves

Chatting cozily and laughing.

They were the only size 4's unengaged

Sitting on the sidelines

Reveling in their exotic glory

And enjoying the show.

They'd been out and about a lot lately,

We all know they are actually

Two sizes bigger than they say -- liars!

Expensive, happy liars.

Then I looked to the right

The 8's and 10's were enjoying a Grand Fiesta

What a spread....frozen margaritas everywhere.

The Dana Buchman capris were draped

Over a plate of fried cheese

Chatting with a stretchy velour Zhara sweatsuit

(a little saggy in the butt if you ask me).

They all looked a little tipsy, tired,

Certainly well-worn,

And quite content in their girth.

The Anne Taylor palazzo pants

Weren't even holding in their stomachs!

I overheard the Queen of the Closet -

A vintage 1973 Halston Ultrasuede shirtdress

Cattily whispering

To the black Cache jacquard silk slacks,

"Daaaahhhling....Never mind this little skirmish

It happens every season

Those 2's and 4's just don't get out much"

I woke up at dawn, laying on the floor of my closet

With a melted Snickers bar in each hand.

When the World Hugs You

So often in our lives it seems
The world hits, spits and trips you
For being too much or too little.
Nasty little grenades explode
In the most surprising places.
Making you slip, trip and stumble
Shoulders sagging,
Spinning on the familiar downward spiral.

But sometimes with no warning
The stars sing your name,
The sunlight melts your heart,
And you catch yourself 
Humming, skipping, smiling 
With no justification
Other than angels sitting on your shoulders
And mother earth singing to your soul.

When the world hugs you,
Take note and hug her back.

Return the Magic

I awakened refreshed...
Surprised...
Perplexed...
Atop the softest cloud.

I ate sunshine for breakfast
Wove a dress of fragrant primrose
And wrapped myself in a cloak
Of warm Maui wind.

I slid down my rainbow
To bring the magic back.

To hear your smile
And feel your laugh
And smell your touch
And return your wand.

It works, Thanks!

On A Mission to Create A Better World

My son, Max, is leaving six weeks from now on an L.D.S. (Mormon mission). I have great respect for his willingness to serve his church and his fellow man for two years -- this is a notable and willing sacrifice in many ways -- no dating, no time for sports, working 6 days a week 12 hours a day for no pay, and coming home two years behind in school. But I have confidence that he will come home wiser, stronger, full of knowledge that he could not have gained any other way, and with a bigger understanding of the world and it's people. How do I know this? I know because of the many, many return missionaries that I have met and listened to. It is the common outcome of uncommon faith and sacrifice.

As Max goes forth on his mission, I am re-energized on my mission which I've been on for the past six years. Saving the planet, no joke. One of the most exciting parts of my work life, is to be leading the sustainability efforts for FMI, which means helping our industry develop new practices and policies that will protect the planet and work to improve life on earth for all living things.

My work is a pleasure because I enjoy the camaraderie of people throughout the world that have a similar passion -- from such great places as World Wildlife Fund to Wal-Mart, Wegman's and the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and many others. We are working together in unusual collaboration and trust to be the change that the world needs to see.

Our work spans the entire realm of all choices and business decisions made by people from the CEO to the store level cashier -- for example, how to source more sustainable products that use less natural resources; how to build "greener buildings" that reduce the use of hazardous materials and use less energy; how to help customers with questions on purchasing more sustainable seafood species; how to manage, control and reduce/eliminate waste -- and for waste that we can't avoid -- how to redirect that waste to beneficial uses. This is the tip of the iceberg.
We have a rapidly growing population which is challenging our supply and natural resources in dramatic ways that our world has never experienced. Time is of the essence and hard choices and complexity are the name of the game.

But the world -- whether it be companies, governments NGO's or individuals are responding in amazing ways in every aspect of the supply chain from global companies to mom and pop operations. One of the things that FMI and our Sustainability Executive Committee are doing is to help focus our industry on the most urgent priorities, and develop the tools and resources that our members most need to move forward faster with sustainability initiatives in their companies. Part of that includes helping to identify and share those stories, strategies and systems with each other -- and we are talking about companies that are usually competitors, sitting down at the table and working hard to develop and accomplish common goals that will benefit all.

Max and I have common goals. We recognize that our work is urgent, imperative, difficult, complicated, and that there will be many roadblocks, naysayers and unintended consequences. We're ok with that, because this mission is not about money, power, prestige or control. It's about doing what our hearts tell us is the most important thing we can do to give back to a world and a God that have given us everything.

Too long away from writing, so much has happened in my life since I started this blog when Max was near death in the hospital. Many changes, challenges and new opportunities have presented themselves! One of the best was my trip with Mom, Joni and Donna to the British Isles for three weeks last month. A never to forget trip with so much educational content my head is still swimming. I fell in love with each and every country we visited -- and gained a new appreciation for the rich and confusing history and great and noble people who created, nurtured and protected great literature of the world, and saved Christianity! I have become a lunatic for learning and it is a thrilling quest because after the 5th time of reading a book or watching my historical/cultural education videos I am starting to put the puzzle together. I am glad to be finally addicted to something I can take with me when I die. More later!!

Jeanne's poems

A Day in Paradise

Splendid dawn arrives
As the sun awakens the desert sky
With hues of golden rose and mauve
Then endless blue.

Our lone companion, a gnarled juniper
Guards the meager camp
Scattering frosted purple berries
Across our rumpled bed.

Twenty toes seek the coolness
Of powder fine, red sand,
No need to rush, we languish
As the embers of last night’s fire
Prepare our simple breakfast.

This day is ours
To delight in discoveries
And each other’s company.
We set forth along sandy bottomed streams
Deep into the belly of the canyon.

Just me and you
Accompanied by silent spirits of
Gentle Reuss, pioneer Hamlin,
Fearless Powell and Outlaw Posey.

We explore the canyon grottos
The silent, echoing caves
Always laughing, and wanting
To continue around one more corner.

Noon comes.
The sun screams down
Scolding the tortured landscape above the canyon
The horizon shimmers
Gasping for breath beneath the searing heat.

Protected by silent, towering cliffs
We laugh and play with gusto
Splashing in cool, crystal streams
And running naked across warm sandstone.

With whines and whispers
Madcap Moki spirits begin to twirl an dance.
Disguised as frenzied whirlwinds
They race merrily to embrace the horizon.

Ominous thunder clouds appear.
Like quicksilver, the wind turns to fury.
We scramble madly beneath a shallow ledge
And watch, riveted, as Eden turns to hell.

Ancient demons and deities clash.
Roaring like warring chiefs
They shriek and howl
And arch their jagged daggers through the cobalt sky.

Their rage descends
In sheets of lukewarm tears
That united in red and raging waterfalls
Shooting violently from the cliffs above.

Suddenly the fury retreats
Taking chaos to another canyon.
In it’s wake, we are cleansed – renewed,
Like the magic rainbows left behind.

Gently, the exhausted sun retires
Giving reign to a luminous moon.
In the twilight, evening primroses
Waken to share their sweet perfume.

Night wraps her arms
Lovingly around us.
Brilliant crystal stars pierce the velvet sky
And we snuggle deep into our simple bed.

In the stillness of a haunted desert
We share our love, our hopes, our dreams.
Together, we float softly into peaceful sleep,
Waiting for tomorrows dawn.

Jeanne 2/14/90


On the road again was dedicated to my friend, Nancy Scott, who like me was traveling about 130 days a year giving speeches and going crazy with stress and anxiety for ten years......this was our life back then......

On The Road Again

In the strange darkness
Of a lonely hotel room
In “anywhere” U.S.A.
My heart begins to race
Chasing m mind
Through the too familiar landscape
Of crystal clear and fuzzy dreams.

Pursued by ponding panic
And snarling demons
Carrying “to do” lists,
I crash headlong into
A maze o marble monoliths
Neatly inscribed
“Should” and “Should Not”.

Frantically,
I grasp at fluttering bits
Of tattered, well worn scripts
Written just for me
By myself and others.

I search the well-remembered lines
But find no answer
No direction
No solace.

The scenes repeat!
Allegretto!
Presto!
Like a whirling dervish
Spiraling toward the crescendo.

Then abruptly vaporized
When the chaos surrenders
To resounding shrieks
Of a computerized wake-up call.

My stumbling consciousness
Scrambles to regain control.
What?
Where?
When?
Oh yes, On the road again!!




Second sisters was written by me in "tribute" to the second wives of the rich men I so often encounter who leave their first wives who have worked so hard to put them through college, wonderfun courageoous women who have born and raised their children, then been discarded for someone 20 to 30 years younger.

Second Sisters

Sculpted
Starved
Stretched
and
Stapled
they
Shimmer
Sparkle
and
Swing
Sexy sinuous shapes into
Sleek sports sedans
Smiling smugly
and
Siently selling out
To swaggering senile seniors.


Dangerour Shoes was written as a response to my nephew David's remark when he was just about three -- he said "Aunt Jeanne" you have one your Dangerous Shoes today!!" I thought, "oh if you only knew......."

Dangerous Shoes

She arrives.
The superficial queen
Of C’s
Composed.
Conservative.
Complacent.
A romantic delusion
Clicking along
In streamlined stilettos –
Her “dangerous shoes”
A rebellious clue
To the passion
Temporarily tamed,
Bound
Gagged
And
Camouflaged
Beneath tailored silk.






Return the Magic was written by me, I can't locate the poem right now. My sister Donna wrote the response below.

Return the Magic (searching for this)



Magic Returned

I must have just missed you when you returned the wand.
I climbed up your rainbow to retrieve it myself.
You were gone so I helped myself to a spot on your cloud.
I ate the sunshine you left unfinished.
I picked up the scraps from your primrose dress
And stitched them to a wisp of your Maui wind.
I waited for hours but you didn’t come back
So I slid down your rainbow with my borrowed goods.
I don’t need the wand now; I’ve got all the magic I need.
You ad it the entire time –
You just didn’t know it.
Let’s send the want to a poor soul who has
No rainbow,
No sunshine;
No cloud;
No primrose dress;
Mo Maui wind within herself

Back to Real Life Again

Homeward bound today, refreshed, renewed and excited about life. My head and heart are bursting with all the wonderful knowledge and tools I learned and am so ready to try! When you get focused on it, the steps to peace, joy and happiness are extremely simple. For three weeks, I heard different versions, illustrations and testimonials which drilled the principles into my mind, but the most compelling by far was the fact that I saw people living these principles and practicing them daily. I saw faces glowing, heats open, sincere compassion, honesty, vulnerability "in action". It was sort of a microcosm of what I would expect to see during the Millennium. There were people of all races, religions, ages, incomes and sizes. Their differences were transcended by the common goals and atmosphere at OHI. In a nutshell, here were the basics of the principles that resonated most with me.

We choose our own thoughts which create our perception of reality.
We can learn to change our thoughts and change our own reality for the better.
Our egos alone (not other people, places or things) are our biggest enemies and downfalls.
Every experience, emotion or thought we have resides within the cells of our bodies. It is our responsibility to understand this and work to release all negative energy they hold through forgiveness, meditation and healing techniques.
Peace, happiness and joy are available to ALL, no matter what our experiences or circumstances.
We can re-learn how to love ourselves, freeing us to really love others.
It is imperative to visualize our future, use our imagination to clearly see ourself, our circumstances and what we are doing -- because we create our future through thought and action through the laws of intention/attraction.
One of the most important tools is the discipline of spending time in an "alpha" state, meditation or prayer.
One of the most important places to start is to completely forgive ourselves and others. This is a process that can take time, but is absolutely essential to any progress.
We each have a spark of the divine within us, which makes us creatures of limitless potential -- limited only by ourselves, our habits, thoughts, choices.
There are tools and teachers who are here as guides to help s along the many pathways to change and we can find just the right one to fit our own particular taste, religion, culture and style.

Thank you God for OHI and for the privilege of my experience and the wonderful people that I met. I envision myself in the future as a missionary at OHI to serve others in helping teach what I am learning along this wonderful pathway called life.

In the Sky to OHI

Today is the beginning of my three week retreat to Optimum Health Institute in San Diego. It will be my second time, and I can't wait. I have my suitcase loaded with inspirational and spiritual books, candles, incense, great music on my ipod and my fantastic headphones. I've scheduled my various massages and colonics, a chiropractor appointment with Dr. Andy, and will work on writing some poems or learning a piano song so I can participate in the Friday night talent shows.

The thing I love about OHI is --- well -- I just love everything about it. The staff is amazing, the other guests are always fascinating -- many coming for their 20th time or more and often great stories of complete reversals of cancer and other diseases when they permanently adopt the raw foods/wheat grass lifestyle. I love the scent of the wheat grass juicing room -- you juice your own, and must have at least four ounces a day. I always have 8 or more because I love the "taste of the smell" of freshly cut grass on a warm summer day. We have two days a week of fasting, just drinking wheat grass juice and/or water. OH, I love the teachers, they are some of the absolute best, most authentic, inspirational and substantive I have heard. They practice what they preach, and so does the entire staff. There is one missionary who must be 100 at least (jk) who does yoga and works out and looks like a healthy 65 year old. The feeling at OHI is just warm, safe, positive, spiritual.

We stay very busy at OHI. We have stretch and exercise a couple of times a day then classes on self esteem, relaxation, health, et. The facility is nice, not posh. For the same program and treatments in other places you pay from $3k to $5k a week. OHI was founded on the principal that this lifestyle and knowledge should be available to "regular people" -- and that patrons would "carry the word" to ordinary people.

Don't freak out, but I will qualify for being a "missionary" at the end of my three weeks. That means I can come to OHI and spend up to three months as part of the staff for only room and board of $600 a month. I really would love that when I retire. Well, I will try to take some pics and cover my adventures in the blog.

My Granite Heart

I’m clinging to my cracked granite heart.

Burning molten sadness
is seeping
through the fissures
ripping away
my carefully constructed façade
and
scorching hopes and dreams.

What force will melt these frozen tears
Long fossilized
by artificial smiles
and carefully veneered
by pretending all is well?

Looking fearfully into the abyss
of knowing and unknowing
I’m grasping, then falling
Out of control.

The unstoppable ache in my heart
recognizes this suffering
shared by all beings
suddenly parted
from the pieces of themselves
residing within those they love
and lose.

I shall sit with this
In faith and patience
Sensing my own humanity.
Asking, listening, waiting…

Didn’t a wise man say “Prayer is the passport to peace?”

Two Odes to Joy

Ode to Joy by Jeanne

Today was the most unexpected delight.
Almost a miracle, in fact.
Impossibly perfect weather
Spurred a spontaneous drive.

My hot Ruby red Miata, top down
Both of us screaming "freedom!!"
Her engine purring perfectly,
My purple cowboy hat on tight,
Ipod blasting classical opera.
Both of us jacked up on sunshine and
Basking in the warmth on our skins.

No resistance...
No timelines...
No expectations...

Wind in my hair
Sudden flashback of my 16th summer
That elusive sense of immortality!
A glimpse of simple joy and peace
That people spend their lives and
Fortunes chasing.

Why so elusive?

Spontaneity focuses one keenly on
Living in the present.
Accepting the reality of now,
This very precious moment,
And the choice
To be there or not.

Today was a quiet celebration.
I was there.
I stepped over the rut
Of grasping and clinging
Or pushing things away --
Wishing "past" difficulties --
And fearing the future --
Or re-playing the past.

My habits were not quick enough!
Euphoria tricked the ego
And I escaped!
Then luxuriated all day
In perfect little moments,
Savoring each -- slowly
Like melting dark chocolates
One by one under my tongue.

A heavenly connection to acceptance
With how things are right here and now....
Is happiness.
Is possible.
Is woven together with grace and beauty

And found in simple truths
Taught in every country and culture
By humble enlightened messengers.

I know them.
Do you?
Why isn't the world listening?



These are the words to Ode To Joy
as sung by Opera Babes
They made me cry with joy today.

All believing, all embracing
Earth below and sky above.
There will never be a power
Greater than united love.

O light of hope enduring
Ever in our hearts reside.
Now, the time to stand together.
No man may alone abide.

All as one in every nation
By our bearing will be bound.
Peace, the true and humble treasure
Through compassion will be found.

O light of clearest vision
No illusion shall divide.
Now, the time to stand together.
No man may alone abide.

Side by side though oceans part us
One by one its understood
Day by day the dawn is breaking
On the bond of brotherhood.

O light of pure intention
All dissension cast aside
Now, the time to stand together
No man need alone abide.

EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE A SHACK!

Everyone Should Have A Shack......

Well, it is hard to admit that I live here in this purple shack most of the time, even though I have a beautiful home on the mountain with million dollar views of three mountain ranges and Canyonlands.

Two years ago we recognized that Max was becoming a teenager who did not want to live in isolation on the mountain. We found that between seminary, football and debate, we were practically living at my office and even spending nights in motels. We'd sometimes get home to the mountain house at 11 pm and get up to head back to town as early as 6 am. It just was not working.

Real estate prices were skyrocketing, and there was nothing available to buy in downtown Moab. We looked for a "crash pad" for months as the real estate market went completely out of sight. Anything near $200k was gone in a day. I finally put an ad in the newspaper for a "fixer upper". No response for three weeks. One day I got a call, came and looked at the shack, and we took the plunge and bought it. You should have seen -- or even better - should have SMELLED this dump. It was completely overgrown with weeds, peeling paint, leaking everything, cement floors, roaches and a complete and total putrid disaster. But the price was right - for that time - and we felt kind of lucky getting it -- l/5 of an acre, and only four blocks from the office downtown. The bargain basement price was $165K.

We closed in three weeks and the appraisal came in at $185K. Then the heartburn began. We got the tractor and cleaned up the yard and ripped everything out of the inside. It took three dump trucks to get rid of the crap. Then over the next three months we started over. We installed all new kitchen, bathroom, hardwood floors and painted it a whimsical purple and green. We dumped money into this joint faster than Grandma used to feed the slot machines in Vegas -- all new furniture, local art work, funky tiled kitchen and bathroom, flat screened tv, etc. When we were finally exhausted and out of money, we found out that the sewer pipes had rotted, and the house was sitting on a lake of literal "shit". So, we had to dig under the house and have the whole sewer line replaced all the way to the street. Cha-ching, cha-ching. That took care of the smell and our last dime at the same time.

After we'd sunk a fortune into this shack the real estate market and economy crashed. We were left with one of the most expensive shacks on the planet. In deep gratitude for our sacrifice of time and money to create a better life for our spoiled teenager, Max says it "I hate this place, it looks like it was painted by Pixies" (true).

Funny thing is this. I love, love, love it here. The inside is simple, comfy, feminine, and most important -- super small, uncluttered and easy to clean. With my insane, demanding and stressful life, this is one thing that is really "manageable". It does not overwhelm me and send me into a panic like the big house and the increasingly impossible demands of my job. Yup, the shack is the one thing I am able to manage and keep in order. The big drawback is that I really, really miss David. He spends most nights on the mountain taking care of the dogs, yard and house there. I get up there about twice a month.

I feel on the cusp of something -- like maybe a new era is dawning. A time to simplify my life and get rid of all the "things" that are weighing me down like heavy chains. I'm a "vintage" woman. My dreams are passing me by because I am too busy to be present in my own life. What do I really want? I want to work part time, ride my cute bicycle around town, go to pilates twice a day, work on family history, go to the temple once a week, join a book club, meditate, do water aerobics, find a creative outlet, go "adventuring" spontaneously whenever I want, spend time with my wonderful husband and sleep until 9 am every day. Someday soon it will be time for ME. And this little shack is just fine, thank you!

Cousin Swirl

Wonderful 4th of July at Wannie and PopPop's house cousins, those teenagers can be so cute! Max is starting to get his smile back! J

Mary Mary

Mary, Mary


In tribute to my clever and very non-ordinary sister Heidi, and her equally contrary and colorful best friend Shahara. We found this in one of Heidi's journals, it is a perfect fit for her, and I'm glad she was exactly, unapologetically herself.

Mary, Mary
Quite Contrary
Contrary to what?
Now that’s a thought!

Cntrary to dull?
Contrary to boring?
Contrary to all that puts me to snoring?

Contrary to safe?
Contrary to normal?
Contrary to stuffed shirt and overly formal?

Contrary to tame?
Contrary to plain?

Contrary to washable, rational, sane?
Mary, Mary
I am glad you’re odd!
Very!

My Mother's Mother

The poem below is by my eternally young and beautiful sister, Heidi, who took her own life about seven years ago this time of year. We miss her deep wisdom, creativity, intelligence and love. We will see her and hold her in our arms again, that we know. I took a little editorial license, so it is not exactly as she wrote it. Thanks much to Shahara Crist, Heidi's best friend and soul sister for publishing this on her blog and making my day meaningful in all the maddness.

My Mother's Mother

My mother was made from warm red sand
And cool water from the San Juan
Her bright eyes were part of the clear desert sky.
Her heart's like the desert's hot sun.

She was nurtured in Bluff's deep canyons
With water from crystal clear artesian springs.
Soft sand and red rock were her playground.
Wild wind and sweet sagebrush her friends.

She grew in mystery and beauty and grace
With cliff flowers twined in her hair
Until another of desert's loved children
Was given my mother to wed.

Twenty springs have now passed;
Winds have shifted the sands.
Desert mourns the loss of her daughter.
Far to the north a woman waits,
She dwells in the mountain's dark shadow.

But red sand still runs through her veins
And the desert primroses calls her home.
The Desert is my mother's mother.

Found the Best of All Poets and Poems

My wonderful friend, Darioush Khaledi who owns the Darioush Winery in Napa, sent me a book called The Gift by Hafiz, the great Iranian Sufi master. I gobbled this book up in one night like a hot fudge brownie, and already have marked all my favorites. This guy lived in the 1300's, and his poems are originally in Farsi, the true language of poets and love. Very hard to translate, but the translator really "updates" the meaning into modern lingo.

Taste this one and see what you think. I think everyone should buy this book. These poems are spiritual, funny, uplifting, and clever as can be. I really needed this poem just when I found it, so Hafiz was watching over me with The Friend.

Your Mother and My Mother

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living
In better conditions.

For your mother and my mother
Were friends.

I know the Innkeeper
In this part of the Universe.
Get some rest tonight,
Come to my verse again tomorrow.
We'll go to the Friend together.

I should not make any promises right now,
But I know if you
Pray
Somewhere in this world -
Something good will happen.

God wants to see
More love and playfulness in your eyes.
For that is your greatest witness to Him.

Your soul and my soul
Once sat together in the Beloved's womb
Playing footsie.

Your heart and my heart
Are very, very old
Friends.

The Gods in Their Sandbox

The Gods in Their Sandbox

I don't mean to be sacrilegious,
But I am intrigued.
I just wish I had been there!
At the very, very beginning.
So I could tell you
What was it REALLY like
When the Gods got together
To express their creative genius,
And formed "worlds without number".

Didn't they have the most incredible fun?
Can you imagine -- their depth of knowing...
Their "beyond" scientific expertise?
Their perfect artistry?
Their pure joy?
Their delicious anticipation
And their incredible sense of humor?
Woven into everything.
Everywhere.

If we really look,
The evidence speaks through the millennia
And the eternities,
From the incomprehensible complexity of the brain
To the increasing evidence of a "soul" or "spirit"
Brilliantly capped with the exquisite sense of humor
Engendered in a Praying Mantis, a Sea Horse
A Giraffe, Wildebeest or an Elephant.
Or, the ONLY "you" and "I".

Some of us
Might pay more attention to stories
About "mysteries of the deep"
Or about "magnificent" or "monstrous" beings
Or "carnivorous plants"....

No matter what or how you observe
If you think and focus, you'll see
That the the Gods had fun
Serious fun
Experimenting....
Like kids in a sandbox.....
With play dough ... or legos ... or crayons.
They progressed
With wild and wondrous twists and turns
From kindergarten to "way beyond" PhD's.

Much later,
When the garden was planted,
The land cooled and ready,
The seas full of life
And the earth teaming with creatures;
The Gods tossed exact replicas of their own genes
Into a giant salad spinner
And with each twist and turn,
Tossed out a totally, beautifully unique individual.
One by one.
A spirit.
One of a kind.
Billions!
Every one, different versions of each other
And their makers!

Hey, that's us!

And that is where the story begins........

My Husband

Ode to David.
He's 54.
Damn good looking.
Smart, kind, loyal, good to the core.

Motorcycle maniac.
Mountain man and hermit.
Lover of nature.
Simple tastes,
Natural class
And great genes.

Rich in compassion.
Deep, soulful, spiritual.
Passionate historian, geographer,
Knower of wonderful trivia.
Master storyteller.

A Renaissance man
Born 100 years past his time,
In a far away fairy tale world.
No fan of technology!

Gentle, patient, temperate.
Friend, comforter, advocate.
My love for life and beyond.

Here he comes!
So handsome.
No ego, a casual confidence.
Heart pitter-patters....
My David!

Trademark jeans and a t-shirt,
Smell of old spice and Crest,
Day or two of tickley whiskers.
Warm strong arms.

28 years ago tomorrow
We said "I do".
A million more to go.
I hope we get a little longer!

Closet Rebellion

Got home late as usual,
Slipped into an exhausted semi-coma.

Awakened....
The racket and screaming shocked me
Into a bleary panic.
What IS that noise coming from the basement?
Even the dogs are howling, and they're outside.

Annoyed and too tired to be scared,
I held the rail and careened down the stairs,
And slammed open the triple sliding door
On the left side of the closet.
Was this where all the ruckus was coming from?

What the hell?

My closet had transformed into
A fashionista's "Alice in Wonderland"
Pandemonium reigned
And I was suddenly only 5 inches tall.
Spinning through a a whirlwind that rivaled Dorothy's.

Pants and shirts, dresses, skirts flying everywhere!
Luckily, I ducked a heavy leather blazer
As it crashed into a hostile gang of size 6 jeans
Screaming something about elasticity.

Sailing sideways, eyes wide shut
I was not at all surprised to see
That my entire wardrobe - each individual piece
Had suddenly become uniquely personalized
With faces, hair, hands and feet!
And cleverly,
The "make, model and size" were stamped boldly
On each item's expressive forehead.

Everything was swirling toward the extreme left side
Of the closet
Where the outcasts lived.
I could hear chanting.
It did not sound friendly.
The whirlwind zipped me along toward the sound
Through fuzzy, sticky cobwebs
Till I landed on the floor
In "no mans zone".

The size 2's were rioting
Attacking the size 4's and 6's
With moth ball grenades
And broken hangers
Some were carrying picket signs with slogans...

ON STRIKE !!
"Cruel and Unusual Punishment"
"No Fresh Air for 900 days"
"Jailed Without Light"
"Chocolate Stole Our Jobs"

The boots were trying to set up a barircade
While the gloves were working together
To grab the roudiest of the 2's and 4's from behind
(Especially those tie dyed Calvin Kleins
and skinny legged Ralph Laurens)
The leather gloves deftly blindfolded them with scarves
And stuffed them into the hanging Kate Spade purses.
You could see the pathetic prisoners kicking
And hear them screaming
Right through that expensive leather.
What a wild, ungrateful and unruly bunch.

To the center, the bigger 4's
Were in hand-to-hand combat
With the 6's
There was slapping, spitting, cussing
And a full-on cat fight that
Puts the Budwiser cat fight girls to shame.
You would not have believed what the
Diane von Fursterberg wrap-around dress
Said to the Max Mara suit.
All just because the latter had been worn
Once -- a "lean" 6 months ago.

Oddly enough,
All the Prada's were fanning themselves
Chatting cozily and laughing.
They were the only size 4's unengaged
Sitting on the sidelines
Reveling in their exotic glory
And enjoying the show.
They'd been out and about a lot lately,
We all know they are actually
Two sizes bigger than they say -- liars!
Expensive, happy liars.

Then I looked to the right
The 8's and 10's were enjoying a Grand Fiesta
What a spread....frozen margaritas everywhere.
The Dana Buchman capris were draped
Over a plate of fried cheese
Chatting with a stretchy velour Zhara sweatsuit
(a little saggy in the butt if you ask me).

They all looked a little tipsy, tired,
Certainly well-worn,
And quite content in their girth.
The Anne Taylor palazzo pants
Weren't even holding in their stomachs!

I overheard the Queen of the Closet -
A vintage 1973 Halston Ultrasuede shirtdress
Cattily whispering
To the black Cache jacquard silk slacks,
"Daaaahhhling....Never mind this little skirmish
It happens every season
Those 2's and 4's just don't get out much"

I woke up at dawn, laying on the floor of my closet
With a melted Snickers bar in each hand.