a heart tornado

Fran,

This morning I woke early to a cloudy light peaking through my curtains.

It's a particularly chilly Monday.

For the past two months Monday means: morning to lunch work at Sebago Brewing, wandering about with a crossword, then probably home.

so i assumed of course that my monday, THIS monday would be the same.

so up i got, dressed and ready. went into town early and had breakfast at a little co-op called Local Sprouts. Egg, pesto, goat cheese and tomato in an english muffin. mmm. and a couple cups of coffee. During my noming i did a bit of writing. it felt good.

I bicycled down to a cafe and grabbed a scone for a later snack. just felt like killing time too. saw some friendly wrinkly male faces that i do crosswords with, had some smiles and mozzied on my way.

i cycled to the bego with a coffee in my hand, woolly sweaters on and feeling like the morning would be a good one.

entering the kitchen of work i was greeted by a friend with a large chunk of turkey in her arms. she had just walked out of the walk in freezer, readying herself for some meat slicing.

"Grrraaaace, want some Turkey?!" she shoved it under my nose.

"NOMNOMNOM" i pretended to eat it.

one of my other worker friends passed by giving me a sweet smile and little wave. prolonging til he was barely visible around the corner of the prep line.

even though i dont particularly like hosting, and there are many things about this place i very much dislike...these short little silly interactions made me feel ok about the coming work day.

in my usual routine i skipped over to the host stand to grab the keys and check if there was anything special for me to do.

and there, to my dismay i saw the days schedule. and i wasn't on it.

feeling very confused since my schedule there has been exactly the same for 2 months, i perused the book. this week i was put down for the opposite of what i normally work, and my request for a new availability was blatantly ignored.

i began to fume!

i called up the boy who was working and asked to switch with him.

"but im already heeeeere!!!" gah.

with a little wiggling discussion it was a no.

so back inside the kitchen i went and said . "well dear ones. im not working, so hanging my head in extreme aggravation i will go home for 5 hours and come back tonight and kill everyone."

onto my bike i went, dropping my entire cup of coffee (after i was OFF MY BIKE!) i sat on the sidewalk and almost cried.

now, this mornings events are nothing to cry about. not at all. so hey, it's a bit frustrating..and annoying and stab worthy... but nothing to cry about.

something in my heart, like a little bead of sadness...feels like its blooming. maybe its post travel blues.. im not sure.

i was sad at the end of my trip, as you remember.. exhausted and feeling homeless. but when i got back here, i felt ok somehow. life challenging, but ok.

now, i've reached a point where i have no real goal. i've repaid all my debt. im sort of scouting for a place to live here in town, but i don't know if i want to even stay here. a friend sort of offered a spot for me with her out in the midwest. maybe that would be better... i dont know.

im also suffering with some emotions toward a person. and i cant do anything about it for multiple reasons. it can only stew and hopefully go away and find peace. i'll tell you more about that in a better, private way.

when i was sitting on the side walk feeling like i was going to cry, a man walked by me that i met a year or so ago. we both are regulars of the same cafe. i remember talking to him about my intended travels..and we also chatted about how wonderful Tom Waits is.

he's a professor at a university in town.

he gave me his email address and warmly suggested that i contact him if i need a counselor type person to communicate with about furthering my education. when i told him a bit about my travels he said that i was a bold girl. heheh.

it made me feel like he was sent to me at that moment to give me some hope... or something.

so my letter to you is something of a miserable rant... an exhaling of sadness.. maybe not the most sweet read for you... but i wanted you to know what is happening in my heart and in my life at the moment as i enter the winter months, and as you enter the warm buzzing summer times.

though, a plus which should be mentioned, is that i am doing way more art than i was in the recent past. paint stains are happy stains.

i miss you.

xoxo

grace-e-ous

here's a letter, fran.

what do i do with my time, fran?

i wonder this too.

since i've been back "home", i've found myself terribly distracted. before i got back here i had a plan.

a plan to accomplish things. to be creative. to do fulfilling, beautiful things.

read a lot

listen to great music.

improve my own limited abilities...

the list goes on.

you know, learn to build bicycles.

oh but motivation!!

however, since i've been back here i feel that i've accomplished little. well, not little. i've found two jobs, possibly three, have almost entirely repaid my debt... i've met some lovely folks in town..

i suppose it hasn't been a bumming, waste of time. but the things that i value and care for have been hiding from me.

crawling into my room at night after three double shifts in a row, i check my email and collapse. book falling off my belly softened by too many beers. in the morning i wake earlier than i need to, or right on time, and feel hungover. even if i haven't had anything to drink. my eyes heavy, my hair full and wild. im in need of a shower, but have no desire to make that effort.

so on with a splash of lavender oil, and down the stairs to make juice.

(sound like a dirty hippie, eh?)

JUICE!

i've always loved fresh veggie juice, but i had always the strange concept that it was too much effort.

now, what i've come to realize, as i've been researching the life of raw and fermented foods and general health, is that it's really, easy as pie..or juice. (if you have the ingredients).

twice a week here in town there is a farmers market. one in the town square right outside of the market where i work making the pizza's, and another in deering oaks park, right outside of the downtown. lots of trees, shakespeare in the park, a duck pond, etc. happy, buzzing life. buskers with fiddles, banjos, dirty pants and scruffy hair.

i like to buy heaps of chard and carrots and all sorts of yummy things from these stands. there's a great place that has homemade cheeses and yogurts. another with tempeh, and a guy that has raw honey and homemade kimchi.

i've been making this great juice. i started drinking it regularly in the morning when i was visiting in corvallis, oregon.

a nice bunch of rainbow chard, some carrots, ginger, an apple or pear, maybe a radish and a pinch of parsley. and if i'm feeling adventurous i may throw in a few blueberries and flax seeds.

i've almost completely lost desire for coffee in the morning when i drink this wonderful juice. it makes me feel incredibly good.

and helps with the regularity of the digestion! hehe. good stuff!

i may have some almond butter toast a bit after that and then bicycle myself to work.

it's about a 15 minute bike ride into the end of town where i need to be. it would be much shorter if it wasn't for the big and gradual hill that is surrounding the entirety of Portland.

my folks live in a three story, oldish house in a quiet little suburb about a mile out of town. pretty little place with trees and a small yard. a porch and back deck.

i'm hoping to find a place in town though.

i like the idea of living in one of the busy yet peaceful neighborhoods 5 minutes from the town sized city.

all the old new england architecture. it's really a very attractive town.

I want to sit on my porch, or stoop in the mornings, drinking juice or coffee and doing the crossword. watching the morning go by. the elderly folks walking their dogs, the young folks swiftly cycling by.. maybe morning musics drifting from open windows. and the smell of changing seasons.

fresh, new beginnings.

everyday is a new beginning. i want to remember that.

i get discouraged, and i beat myself up about my lack of progress.. or my laziness, or feeling of being overwhelmed.

but every morning is fresh. cells in my very body are different.

if i approach each day without the baggage that tends to weigh one down by the wrists, than i believe i'll be able to find the nurturing paths i desire.

i'll start by washing my socks.