the yogini cowgirl

another meditative thought for a Monday ...

082211.  I thought about not blogging today.

I thought about just unplugging and unhooking and un-communicating.

I even thought about un-meditating today.

And then I thought I might come undone.

Which wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Not me.

Not the LO or the OLO.

Not the superMom or the Gram.

You see, on Saturday, we got a call that Gram’s health had taken a turn for the worse.

And the sisters (my mom and her three sisters) had to sign a DNR (also known as a “Do Not Resuscitate” order) and the world seemed like it was closing in pretty fast.

We made a quick decision …

And the first flight we (me, the LO and the superStepDad) could get (for under $1,200 a piece) was Sunday … out of Salt Lake City, UT … which is a 7-hour drive from Bozeman.

SIDEBAR:  An interesting thing about living in Bozeman is that the airport is small enough that there aren’t always flights when you need or want them … which is a way different experience than living in Los Angeles, from whence one can get to and from anywhere anytime.

So …

Drop the dogs at the kennel.

Get the oil changed and the car washed.

Pack clothes.

Pack a lunch.

Stop at the bank.

Stop at the post office.

And away we go.

We were on the road by noon.

First by car.

Then by bus (from longterm parking).

Then by plane (one layover in Phoenix).

And by train (to rental car station).

Then by car again.

And at 1 am this morning, we pulled into the driveway of Gram’s house (also the home of my Aunt Eileen and Uncle Phil).

Tired.

Hungry.

A huddled mass.

So here we are.

Waiting for the LO to wake up so we can get to the hospital … where things are looking brighter today than they were on Saturday (thanks to all the prayers and all the hard work by the doctors and nurses caring for Gram).

In a house with my Aunt, Uncle, my other Aunt and Uncle (Donna and Doug), my parents and the LO.

Who all think I’m a little eccentric with the yoga and meditation and “new agey mumbo jumbo” :).

So, yes, I considered not taking a few minutes to meditate today.

Especially because the house was buzzing by the time I woke up.  Seven adults taking showers, eating breakfast, drinking coffee, chatting about the plan for the day, etc., doesn't generally make for a meditative space.

It wasn’t like I had half an hour to myself in a quiet place. 

But then it was my turn to shower and I had just a few moments alone … I realized that the things I do for my Sadhana (conscious breathing, meditating, yoga, reading) are what make it possible for me to handle the travel snafus … the tricky situations … the news that isn’t easy to hear or process.  Even if all I do is breathe consciously for 3 minutes, I know that when the flight attendant gets angry that a 2 year old would rather sit on her mother’s lap during landing than be buckled in a window seat that’s too big for her as the plane hurdles toward the ground, I don’t have to judge it.  I don’t have to get mad at it.  I can just breathe through it and recognize that it’s a temporary moment … like every other moment … and I’d like to make the best of all of them.

So pardon me, while I go breathe.

Sat Nam,

YC

 

 

s'mores or no ... I like camping

062711.  Yes.  There were s’mores.

We made sure of it.

We brought the fixins.  (We didn't want to take any chances ...)

But as tasty and fun as they are, I realized something else this weekend:

I like camping. 

I especially like camping with the Cowboy (I may start to call him “The Preacher” after this trip). 

(NOTE:  There are no pics of me and the Cowboy on this trip ... one of us was always holding the camera)

And I like camping with the LO (even though she takes up the entire bed roll).

I like camping with good friends. (Especially the ones you meet on the camping trip.)

And horses. 

I like campfires ... for warmth and for cooking ...

(This much meat is only slightly scary for someone who struggles to be a vegetarian.)

I like waking up at dawn in the wilderness (even when it’s 33 degrees outside) to find a campfire burning, coffee in the pot, and only a few souls with whom to share one of those perfect moments.

(The preacher, the groom and the best man ... at dawn ... the day of.)

But I especially loved this weekend because it celebrated life and love and commitment in a way I hadn’t before …

I mentioned that the Cowboy officiated Kurt & Carolyn’s nuptials, overlooking Sphinx Peak in the Gallatin Mountain Range (about 10-12 miles deep into the hills). 

I’d like to share with you just a bit of the ceremony because I’m a sucker for real love … and I was invited to glimpse a pure moment this weekend, and that seems worth sharing:

“Being here today once again confirms my belief that we are not meant to travel life’s trails on our own.  We are meant to share this adventure with a partner.  Finding that perfect person to share your journey with through this byzantine world of mountain peaks, deep valleys, fast running rivers and endless oceans, isn’t easy.  Invariably it’s an effort of trial and error.  A real world game of hide and seek that many of us earnestly play and fail at more often than naught before we find that perfect partner to pose the question so simply stated by Dave Stamey, in his song “Come Ride With Me.”

 (The groom at dawn.  The day of.)

“Come ride with me

Time to saddle up n’ ride away

Is so much to see

Don’t worry I know the trails I know the way”

(the bride … 30 minutes after dawn … the day of)

“I caught a gentle horse

His eyes are big and brown

He’s ready to carry you the whole world round

Come ride with me, let’s ride away”

“Come take a chance

I’ll show you where the mountains touch the sky

It’s a horseback dance

And we can ride forever if we try”

“That dream in the distance

There for you to chase

Out in the sunrise with the wind on your face

Come ride with me, let’s ride away …”

 Well.

He asked …

She answered …

And that uncomplicated but powerful request to go through life together has led us to this very place and time.  Michael Luening, the Australian poet and cartoonist wrote, “Love one another and you will be happy.  It’s as simple and as difficult as that.”

Wishing Kurt and Carolyn a lifetime of bliss ...

 

 

 

what if there are no s'mores?

062411.  I told you we’re going camping this weekend. I've never been real camping before. I mean, I've camped.  In high school.  With a group of gals.  In a Jersey State Park.  At a well-populated camp-ground.  

But I've never been camping in the real wild.  Where you have to lock up food and garbage and keep them outside of the camp to keep the bears away kind of camping.  When it's going to be 35 degrees at night kind of camping.  So ... you know ... that's very exciting.

What I failed to mention is that the impetus for our trip is a wedding for one of the Cowboy’s dearest friends.  In fact, the Cowboy is donning his figurative clergy-man robes this weekend and officiating the nuptials. 

(If I haven’t mentioned that the Cowboy is a poet and a beautiful orator, I guess now would be the time … it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I’m sure … that … and his Stetson … and boots … and the scar on his chest where he was gored by a bull back in his steer-wrestling days.)

(yes, that's really the Cowboy ... and no, this isn't the day he got gored ... but I love this picture.)

But I digress …

So … we’re camping this weekend.

And Kurt and Carolyn are tying the knot.

In a locale that is only accessible by horseback.

Which means the LO and I will miss the knot-tying … because as qualified as I feel to ride Red in a round-pen, I am equally as unqualified to ride him on a still-snow-covered trail across a stream and up a mountain … and at 20 weeks pregnant ... hmmmm ...

I think we’ll hang at base-camp.  With the other pregnant mamas and their babies.

And I’ll just be thankful to have an opportunity to explore the outdoors with our rock-climbing little nature-lover.

And prepare the s’mores.

Because even though it’s wedding, we’re camping, and I’m pretty sure there have to be s’mores, right?

If there are no s’mores, I don’t think I can go.

 

Q: Let’s hear some wedding stories … who’s got one?

 

so close. And yet ...

062311.  The LO and I are still on the road.

It’s not a very long story … we basically got distracted by a beautiful park in Salt Lake City, UT.  (And if my iPhone weren’t completely out of juice, I’d have pictures to post … but since I only have a car charger, we’ve got no phone and no pics until we start driving again later today.)

Then we dropped the SuperMom off at the airport for her 5 pm flight back to Palm Springs and continued on our way. (She was with us for 760 of the 1100 mile trip, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank her … especially since she’s got to get up at 5:30 this morning to go to work … now maybe you know why I call her the SuperMom.)

By the time we hit Idaho Falls (and a raging thunder storm), we were ready for an indoor heated pool experience.

Yay, Shilo Inn, for delivering a much-needed respite.

We’ve got about 200 miles to go.

But we'll probably take another dip before we hit the road this morning.

And we’re looking forward to sleeping in our own beds tonight.

 

Q: What distracts you on long road trips?

 

longest day of the year ...

062111.Summer solstice is today at 11:16 AM Mountain Daylight Time. And we are leaving the SuperMom's for the second leg of our trip home, so this is going to be short and sweet because posting on my iPod is supposed to be easy, and yet ...maybe you saw my first attempt?
But back to Solstice ... Because that's more interesting than my technical difficulties.
According to Power Path, Inc.& School of Shamanism, today is...
"A good time to vision what you wish for yourself in the future. By this time your patterns should be sufficiently shaken up to allow for some clarity in a new direction or at least in a realignment of how you are currently playing out your life. Do some intention work, visioning, sharing, celebrating, practicing gratitude, working with the sun and the earth, and having some fun. Enjoy the chaos and the creativity and the innovation and the inspiration and the resilience of the collective and your personal part in the experience of life on this planet. If you feel altered and unsettled, get used to it. Have fun anyway!"
Count me in!
P.S. We miss the Cowboy already.
Q: what's your vision for the day?

the longest day of the year...

travel tip #1

062011.  We leave Los Angeles today for a 3-day journey home. 

First stop: to pick up the SuperMom at her home near Palm Springs.  She's traveling with me and the LO so we don't have to be on the road 18 hours alone.  I am very thankful for the SuperMom!  (Although she has to work Thursday, so we've got to get her to Salt Lake City by Wednesday afternoon so she can hop on a flight back ... have I mentioned lately that she's awesome?)

We’re sad to go, but we’ve got a horseback riding-camping trip-wedding planned for the weekend at which the Cowboy is officiating … I can’t wait to tell you more about that.  So we’re also kind of excited about the upcoming adventure.

I don’t usually offer up travel tips  but I did something so right this trip, I really feel like I need to share.

A brief recap for you in case you’ve been out-of-touch … we left Montana a little more than 3 weeks ago for a lengthy trip to Los Angeles where we are staying in a super-tiny sublet with a mini-closet and one dresser for three people … one of whom is here for 8 months.  So to say that storage was limited is kind of an understatement.  No place for clothes.  No place for toys.  Barely enough room for shoes. 

So what I decided to do was, instead of loading down the LR3 with bulky oversized suitcases, I ran out to Target and bought three Michael Graves canvas under-bed storage bags.  One for clothes for me.  One for clothes for the LO.  And one for toys, books and sundry other important things we might need.  We packed two small overnight bags for the trip.  And away we went.

It was PERFECT.  We got to our tiny sublet, didn’t have to unpack, didn’t have to find a place to hide our oversized suitcases or store our plethora of toys and books, we just slid our bags under the bed and we were ready to start living! 

Now I don’t recommend this for a weekend getaway to a lush and extravagant resort because who wants a Porter to be able to check out the contents of your bag, but for an extended trip, by car, to a place with limited storage and a bed that’s more than six inches off the ground?  Ideal. 

The clear plastic cover allows easy awareness of all your stuff … no rummaging ... less mess. The compact size (about 6 inches deep, by 36 inches long by about 30 inches wide) means three bags fit perfectly under a full-sized mattress (four would probably fit under a queen, but we didn’t have a queen bed here).

 

Q: So now I’m looking for other good travel ideas … we’re camping this weekend … with a 2-year-old … what do you suggest?

 

conditioning ... by the Little One

061711.  One of the things I’m most looking forward to about getting home to Montana is the Community Meditation we practice at the BE THE CHANGE YOGA STUDIO.  It’s typically a 40-day meditation during which we meet once a week to practice the meditation, drink yogi tea, and talk about the meditation process.  And the one that’s coming up for the month of July is a walking meditation called Breathwalk, using the bij mantra Sa Ta Na Ma.

The plan is to start at the studio and to do the meditation either through Lindley Park or Pete’s Hill.

And the thing is … I was starting to get anxious about doing this meditation what with my realization that I’m more and more pregnant each and every day.

But then, yesterday, the LO decided to teach me an important lesson.

You see, our sublet in Los Angeles is on the border of the neighborhoods of Silver Lake and Echo Park.  On a side street that is geographically more akin to San Francisco than Los Angeles … steep 50 degree inclines, 60 degree decline, backyard chicken coops and gorgeous gardens.

 

 (this picture does NOT capture the severity of this steep hill … if anyone knows how to capture better perspective using an iPhone camera, I’d be happy for the tutorial)

And the LO is a big fan of walking.

Especially up and down stairs and hills.

A bigger fan of flowers.

And an even bigger fanatic about chickens.

So we spent about an hour yesterday marching up …

And down …

And up ...

And down the nearby hills.

In search of stairs, flowers, chickens

She’s awesome.

And I have only excitement left for the meditation.

And enthusiasm for the walk we’re about to take.

 

Q:  What have you learned lately about yourself?

 

I think I say this every time I find myself here ...

061511.   I love LA.

I love the sun.

I love the beach.

I love the canyons and the hiking.

I love Intelligentsia Coffee.

And now I have a new reason to love Los Angeles.

Actually, my new love is in Santa Monica.

Which is unusual for me since I was such an East Side Gal when I lived here, rarely venturing west of Fairfax except to go to my office.

But when I got here two weeks ago, the Cowboy took me shopping (yay!) because … well … I’ve never been pregnant in the summer.  And I had that visit to the Institutes coming up … and none of my clothes fit me except my really low-cut jeans, which thankfully still fit below the bump that is way more surprising this second time around.

Now I know I made this bargain with myself to simplify and reduce the clutter in my closet.  I know I made this commitment to eliminate one old thing every time I bring a new thing into the house … but in my defense ... I'm doing my best to buy clothes that were made locally and sold in stores that are owned locally ... and I’m making an exception here because I would rather not embarrass my mother by walking around in clothes that don’t fit. (I'm guessing the SuperMom isn't going to be psyched I'm using her as my excuse :)

So we found ourselves on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica and wound up at a place called 2chix maternity and baby boutique. (Is it just an irony that I can’t seem to escape Montana now that I count it my home?) 

It’s fantastic.

And fashion forward without being "trendy."

High quality.

And the best news:  despite it’s pricey locale, it’s not over-priced (especially the sale rack).

Oh … and they have an online shop where I plan to purchase their 40-week skirt

(I don't think I can pull off the bare bump, but the skirt is so fabulous, I might just try ... hahaha)

... which was out of stock when I visited the store.

 

Q:  Have you discovered any new locally-owned shops lately that deserve a little online plug?

 

a whirlwind weekend ... in photos

033111. We had an amazing action-packed visit with the Cowboy this weekend …

We were psyched to see the Cowboy's sweet new sublet that’s way cleaner and super cuter than last year’s ...

... and the fact that it's a studio will force us to simplify even more than we have been when we spend a month with the Cowboy this summer.  There just won't be room for all our "stuff."

... in a neighborhood that was made for nature exploration ... the LO loves nature exploration.

It was a weekend filled with good food.  (I love that the sublet is in Silver Lake … if only because it’s a short walk to Mae Ploy for Thai curries that will knock your socks off even if you ask for “medium spicy” … Then, of course, there’s Agra Café for an amazing Indian extravaganza … And Malo’s chile relleno and deep fried lobster tacos that even the LO loves … and a daily infusion of Intelligentsia Coffee … hmmmm.

And great friends. The LO had a reunion with her first friends …

 

(amazing how much they've grown ... they're like little people ... who would've thought?)

Q:What adventures are you taking these days?

sometimes there just aren't pictures to capture a moment ...

032511. The LO and I landed in Los Angeles last night for a way-too-brief visit with the Cowboy.

And I woke this morning to the sounds of torrential rain on the slick city streets outside our Silver Lake window.

I love the sounds of rain.

In normal circumstances, I would likely have fallen blissfully back to sleep with the pitter patter of the rain serving as the soundtrack to my dreams.

But in this tiny apartment in Silver Lake, with the rush of rainwater outside our door, all I wanted to do was wake up and run outside. I wanted to feel the rain on my cheeks. I wanted to run barefoot through the little yard.

Except the Cowboy’s still sleeping.

And so is the LO.

And it’s a studio apartment so I can’t turn on the lights.

And I have no idea where the keys are.

And I don’t want to get locked outside the security door downstairs.

And I don’t want to wake the Cowboy.

Or the little one.

So instead, I’m sitting here writing about it.

Q: What are YOU doing up so early?

Mass Pillow Fight in Berlin | Amusing Planet

032211.  I am not, by nature, a confrontational person.  BUT ... what with my love of pillows, and my infatuation with Berlin ... this is one fight I would have loved to have been a part of ... (note: Grammar Girl thinks it's just fine to end a sentence with a preposition.  I don't know how she feels about my overuse of ellipses and I'm not going to check.)

Hundreds of young people assembled in front of Berlin’s Brandenburg Gate on Sunday with the aim of breaking the world record for the largest pillow fight. The action which started almost abruptly at around 4 pm, took tourists, passersby and even the police by surprise as they were engulfed in a blizzard of feathers.

via www.amusingplanet.com

a pick-ture perfect process to create your own happiness?

020311.  As the LO and I pack and prepare for a weekend road trip to Utah, I reflect on the last time we were in the car for more than an hour ...

Like any good yogini, the LO demonstrates clearly how we all have the power to make choices and make changes to create the world we want to live in ...

contemplation ...

the birth of an idea ...

reflection ...

commitment ...

satisfaction?

Q:  What choices will you make today to create the world you want to live in?

sometimes ...

012711.  I miss my old life.

Not always.

Not even often.

But ... sometimes.

I think about those days when, on a moment's notice, my old boss would say ... "Let's go to Vegas." And an hour later, six or seven of us would hop on his private plane and be in Vegas in time for dinner at some fabulously decadent restaurant. We'd go see "O" or some other Cirque du Soleil extravaganza.  Then wind up at his ex-girlfriend's club PURE at Caesar's.  And we'd be back in the morning in time for a breakfast meeting.

Good times.

Different times.

And sometimes ...

Like when it's 10 o'clock and the LO's refusing to go to sleep ...

(do you see that look she's giving me?  I'm blaming the princess pajamas.)

Or when the dogs won't get along so I have to separate them for an hour (at 2 o'clock in the morning) ...

Or when I realize I may not have that life anymore, but someone does ...

(the Cowboy took this photo this morning ... after a late-night jaunt to Vegas with the Cowboy's pilot/stunt-coordinator friend Tom)

Q: What do YOU miss?

Home, again. Home again.

120610. Jiggity jig.
(a real post tonight ... after the LO goes to bed)

I love road trips ...

093010.  Just a few days after high school graduation, Ericka, Scott and I hopped into Ericka’s Chevette (white with blue interior and no A/C) during a record-heat drought that struck the mid-Atlantic with a fury we haven’t seen since.  So three freshly-minted “adults” decided it was the perfect time to drive 10 hours to visit Brian, whose family had just moved to Dublin, Ohio.  We told our parents we were going to the Jersey shore with other grads (or rather … I told my parents we were going to the beach … Ericka told her parents the truth … and I don’t know if Scott told his parents anything) … that’s how grown-up we were.  (SuperMom – I don’t think you’re learning this now … I hope you’re not learning about it here … hmmm … haven’t we talked about it?!?) 

It was more than 20 years ago and I still remember the asphalt smell in the car from the road construction … and how precariously close the road dividers seemed to a new driver … and how hot it was in the car … sticking to the plastic blue seats … falling asleep in the backseat when it was someone else’s turn to drive because of the heat and heavy air … crazy summer traffic … bad fast food.  It was probably the best weekend of my life up to that point. 

And I still love road trips.

I’m a road tripper.

I love the changing landscapes.

I love the hotel rooms that range from the Bunkhouse in Augusta, where there are no locks on the doors ...

... to the poshness of the rooms at Hidden Moose Lodge in Whitefish, where each room has a balcony and a foyer.

I love the people we meet ...

the places we eat ...

and the sites we see ...

And I’m happy to report, the Cowboy is a road-tripper, too.

(and he prefers to drive, so I get to sit in the passenger seat and snap photos with my phone.)

And what we’ve discovered these past two road-tripping weekends is … the LO loves it, too!

(except we think she wants to do the driving.)

Whew.

Not sure what we would have done if we had a LO that didn’t like to travel.

 

Q:  When was the last time you took a road trip … and where did you go?

REMINDER:  Only one more day to register for the CD GIVEAWAY ... just CLICK THIS LINK and comment on the question. Three lucky winners will get Snatam's new CD DIVINE BIRTH.  Good Luck! 

Calamity Jane slept here ... I wonder if she knew Breath of Fire?

091810. So, the Cowboy is taking me on a series of road trips to explore my new home in the Big Sky state. 

And it all started Thursday night.

First stop.  Pray, MT (population 85, home of the Resort at Chico Hot Springs)

 Where we stayed in the upper house – the Fisherman’s Lodge – overlooking the garden, the greenhouse and the main lodge.  Amazing.

Not only is there an incredible pool that is supplied by local hot springs, the resort is home to a beautiful garden and greenhouse, filled with gorgeous sunflowers and flowering vines, herbs and aromatics all sequestered behind a 6 foot fence.

Discovering the stairs behind our room was likely my favorite part of the visit to Chico.  Because they lead the LO and me to the flower zoo, and offered us a quiet, meditative space, filled with luscious colors, earthy smells and rich textures.  The life-affirming experience of walking through the maze of flowers and vegetation with the LO is a moment that I’m going to cherish for a long time.  And pretty cool to know the kitchen would soon be turning this bountiful cornucopia of fruit and vegies into a nourishing, delicious meal.

We left Chico on Friday … and went on a drive through Yellowstone …

along the Beartooth Highway (seriously the most beautiful scenic road I've ever been on) …

and then into Red Lodge, MT, (the Pollard Hotel) where Calamity Jane parked her horse and hung with Jeremiah “Liver-eating” Johnson, Buffalo Bill and all those other Cowboys and gals of yore.

The thing I’m realizing on this little sojourn (which I’m sure you already know) is that taking a little time off to reconnect with loved ones … to be a family … to remember why you came together in the first place … is really important.  It’s so easy for paths to diverge … for one to be looking North, the other West.  But laughing together.  Eating together, talking listening, and experiencing the quiet moments when the LO is asleep in the back seat … that’s what brings the paths back together … gets things sorted … prepares you for the road ahead.

 

Q: What time have you taken to reconnect with your loved-ones lately?

 

the cowgirl is alive and well this week

082110. As we continue our adventure into cowgirl-hood, the LO and I loaded into the car and drove to the city town of Three Forks, Montana, today for the Wild Bunch’s Montana Cowboy Mounted Shooting Competition Finals.

 

Our friend Suzie is president of the Wild Bunch.

She’s like the UC … a cowgirl extraordinaire.

 

And she’s a “Cowboy Mounted Shooter.”

Now … if you know me at all … you will know I am an utter peacenik.

I’m not a big fan of guns.  It's an "issue" I have internally with the whole cowgirl-thing.

 

But I’m not going to get on a soapbox about it.

Because that’s not the point of this current adventure.

And I live in Cowboy Country.

And it’s my thing about guns.  Not anyone else’s.

So …

The Mounted Shooting Competition.

In the picturesque town of Three Forks.

30 miles West of Bozeman.

We found the rodeo grounds (there are rodeo grounds in Three Forks) after getting lost and having the call the Cowboy just once …

And then we found parking way too easily.

Which is when things got confusing …

Because the entrance wasn’t manned.

And the stands were empty except for two pre-teen girls who looked like they were waiting for their dad …

And there was one woman packing up a booth of antique cowboy paraphernalia at the edge of the empty arena.

?!?! …

We missed it?!?!?!

Pat (the antiques purveyor) told us they had wrapped up for the day TWO HOURS before …

“But I thought the website said it went until 5???”

Pat shrugged.  Apparently, they wrap up when they've gotten through all the entrants ... and they have fewer entrants this year "because of the economy."

“They start again at 10 am tomorrow.  And there’s an exhibition at 6 pm on Saturday.”

So this Cowgirl had to access her Yogini and breathe.

It would have been easy to get frustrated.

I can imagine at some point in my life I could even have gotten mad (and blamed my assistant or yelled at the antiques gal).

But we had an empty rodeo arena to ourselves.

 

There were horses to look at.

 

Dogs to laugh at.  And muddy water in buckets to explore.

There were even rocks to uncover.

 

And then we ran into Suzie and got a behind-the-scenes tour of the proceedings, and credit for showing up, anyway.

Woohoo!

Q: How do you react when things don't go quite the way you expect them?

for the love of mulberries ...

080310. One of my favorite memories growing up in rural New Jersey (yes, parts of New Jersey are rural) is of riding my bike down the hill for 3 blocks to Morgan’s Field on summer afternoons to play with my sis Teri and as many of the kids in neighborhood who would show up (to name a few: Beau, Harry, Mark and Doolie).  And then the memory gets better because there was a corner of Morgan’s that was bordered by immense mulberry trees that bore so much fruit the dirt at its roots was Jackson Pollack-ed with purple stains. 

(they look like blackberries but are so much sweeter there's really no comparison) 

The thing about mulberries is that they don’t have a long harvest season.  It’s maybe one or two weeks in the summer that they are the most amazing, sweet, delicious, succulent, awesome pearls of dark black berries.

In those 2 weeks, I would eat enough mulberries that I would wander home at sundown with stained clothes (there was no oxi-clean in 1976), purple lips, and a full belly ... and absolutely no interest in eating a real dinner – no matter what goodness was on the table.

Because I grew up plucking these luscious treats from the tree, I hardly gave them a second thought.

But since I left New Jersey 22 years ago, it’s impossible to find mulberries anywhere! I’ve encountered mulberries TWICE!

Once: about 6 years ago, at the restaurant Sona in Los Angeles.  Pastry Chef Michele Myers topped a sweet buttery crepe with mulberries for an incredibly elegant dessert. (By the way, I don't think she works there anymore.)

And Sunday … at the Farmer’s Market in Hollywood!!!!

I am transported again.

And this time, I got to take the Cowboy and the LO with me … (neither had ever tasted a mulberry before … I wasn’t surprised that the LO hadn’t tasted them … but the Cowboy?  Shocking.  It’s a rare day when I get to introduce him to much in this world :)

We could have baked them in a pie, topped some ice cream, or blended them in a juice ... but alas ... it's hard to eat just one... 

Counting down ...

080210. One day until SC returns and our house-sitting ends – back to the Silver Lake sublet. 

I have mixed feelings about this … I miss SC, but her home is awesome and cozy and bright … and we love her puppy… it’s been a great week.

I think, if it were up to the LO, we’d be bringing Sadie home so we could even out the girl-boy ratio in our house. 

Six days until the LO and I head back to Bozeman.  More mixed feelings: We’re very sad to leave the Cowboy in Los Angeles … but it’ll be good to get home and get back to swimming lessons, horses, dogs and yoga with Sammy. I can’t believe how fast these weeks have gone by.

8 days until I go on the "sub" list as a yoga teacher!!!  Before I left for Los Angeles, I met the owner of Be the Change Yoga in Bozeman ... and happy day ... she is AWESOME and excited to be able to offer Kundalini Yoga to the community.  I start teaching for real in September.  But I go on the injured reserve list as of August 9th.  If you're ever in Bozeman, join me for Sadhana!!

10 days until I start riding lessons. I’m more nervous about this than excited at this point … I’d like to go on a trail ride with the Cowboy and the LO this fall, but I’ve been told it “depends on how I do?!?!”  Grrrr

(this was the only picture of me and a horse that I could find ... the LO was not quite 3 months old here ... my hair was a lot longer ... and I was still carrying some "baby weight" ... I'm really appreciating the jowls ... on the horse AND me :)

22 days until the next full moon. It’s the Green Corn Moon … which makes me think of Green Corn-Sweet Corn tamales … which makes me happy.  I might have to try my hand at making tamales in honor of the Green Corn Moon.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

33 days until the Cowboy gets home! Can you say "Bliss?"  Pure bliss.

82 days until we’re back in SoCal for the Claire & Danny wedding!  And the LO spends her first weekend away with my SuperMom!  Woohoo!!  Yikes!!

135 days until Christmas!

Q: What are you counting down these days?

to live and love in LA ...a list

072010.  This may not surprise you: I’ve been writing a lot of lists these past few days … I wrote a list of things I needed to remember to pack when we left the SuperMom’s on Sunday because everything was strewn in every room of the house.  (I still forgot the LO’s favorite sippy cup.)

(She loves this sippy cup so much ... but not enough that she won't share it with Hitcher)

I wrote lists of things we needed from the store (like yogurt and cereal and random goodies to have in our Silver Lake sublet). 

I wrote lists of people I want to see while I’m here.

And things I want to do.

Places I want to visit.

But we’ve been back in Los Angeles for three days, and I’m reminded of so many things I love about Los Angeles … and now all those lists are changing. 

So here’s my current list of loves in LA:

1. We get to hang out with the Cowboy again.  Woohoo!!!  

2. Golden Bridge Mommy & Me Yoga (and daddies, too) After getting there late today, the LO decided that instead of doing yoga, she would rather be eating an apple.  So that’s good, too.  Believe it or not, there are no mommy & me classes in Bozeman.  Shocking, I know.  Good thing that’s something I can personally change.

3. Larchmont Village.  My old hood.  I love Larchmont.  I love Picket Fences.  And I love the Village Wine & Cheese Shop where we met the Cowboy for lunch today.  I love Village Pizza.  And Pain Quotidian.  I love Larchmont Beauty Supply.  And Crumbs cupcake bakery.  And I definitely love that SC and her pup Sadie spend enough time on the boulevard that we can just bump into them on the street at any given time.  The best.

4. Our Silver Lake sublet … a neighborhood I’ve coveted for years … and now I get to call it home for 3 weeks.  It’s a dream come true!  (And the apartment is adorable – thanks to the fabulously French owner with a charming sense of style.)

5. Trails, at Griffith Park for tea with the kiddies (the LO’s best friends Oliver and Lux … I’ll get a picture and the okay to post it because these little ones are ADORABLE!!!!)

6. The Bearded Mr. Frenchy at Fred 62 on Vermont.  Mind out of the gutter, people … this is the best dang French toast you’ll ever eat.

7. Barnsdall Art Park Friday night picnic with the gal pals.  Good times.  Excellently good times.

8. Venice Beach, where we’ll go tomorrow for a little sun and a little sand.

9. Cholada Thai on the PCH, where we’ll go after the sun and the sand for a little Spicy Fried Rice. (I guess I like the food in Los Angeles)

I’m going to leave 10 open for all the other things I’m going to remember I love in the next 3 weeks.

Q: What do you love about where you are right now?

and away we go!

071210.  I’ve been thinking a lot about this trip back to Los Angeles. 

People I want to see (the Cowboy!!!, the superMom and superStepdad, the superStepSis and her family, and friends, friends and more friends, please). 

Places I want to go (Golden Bridge for yoga, the Zoo so the LO can see zebras in person, and Tender Greens for the best carrot cake muffin top ever made). 

And things I want to do (family, friends, yoga, carrot cake … I couldn’t ask for more… except maybe a day at the beach)

This was a very excellent day.  I wouldn’t mind experiencing a day like this again.

The thing is … if I let myself … I could totally over-think myself into a frenzy: about my old job … about the family and friends I left behind … about the cost of visiting LA and all the things I want to do while I’m there.  Yogi Bhajan said that we have 1,000 thoughts ever time we blink our eyes.  Some of the thoughts become part of your conscious mind.  Some part of your subconscious.  And Some part of the unconscious.  No matter how you slice it, that's a lot of thinking.

But these past few weeks on my own in Bozeman have definitely given me the opportunity to meditate, slow down my thoughts and really clear out some of the "maya" (that’s the yogi term for getting caught in the day-to-day blah blah that consumes so much of our time and energy).

My teacher Harijiwan said we can "vibrate with the cosmos" by playing mantra.  I've been doing that, too.

So I thought I'd share one with you ...Ek Ong Kar sung by Snatam Kaur.  She has an amazing voice.  I hope you enjoy ...and it's available on iTunes if you like it. :)

t-minus 4 days ...

070910.  It’s been a long time since I visited Los Angeles.

Actually, our trip next week marks my first trip to Los Angeles as a “visitor.”  Because my first trip to Los Angeles in 1995 was to move there.

So I’ve actually never been tourist.

Which is a crazy feeling.

Because, in the immortal words of Miranda Lambert in her song “House that Built Me,” “you can’t go home again,” from her album Revolution.

 

I know.  I know.  This very young country music star wasn’t the first one to say it.    But she says it beautifully, and what kind of cowgirl would I be if I didn’t share my newfound country music infatuation?

Go ahead … click the link … it really is a beautiful song.

NOTE: I’m guessing you’re impressed with my country music knowledge.  Because you probably haven't seen her on Good Morning America ... or the Today Show ... or Ellen Degeneres.  Yep ... this is an obscure piece of country music experience that happens when you move to Montana and only get a few radio stations that aren’t filled with evangelical blah blah (please read the sarcasm ... please).

It’s a funny thing … packing to go back to Los Angeles.

I just got here.

I’m barely getting my sea legs.

I’m not quite done unpacking the dishes.

I’m definitely not done unpacking my shoes (most of which are still in storage, and I have to go there today to find something to wear to Sammy’s play tonight!).

And now I’m up and leaving again.

It’s only a three-week adventure, but I like waking up in a quiet sleepy town with the sun bursting through the windows at 5 am. (Montana is way North of anywhere I’ve ever lived.  The sun is up really early in the summer.)

And I’m going to miss our new daily routine.

I’m going to miss yoga with Sammy (although with both of our schedules, we haven’t been doing enough.)

I know the LO loves her independence here, and I do, too.  

(yes, I've posted this photo before ...but I like it ...) 

I love going out to the horses in the afternoon to give the dogs a run for their money.

And I think it’s neat that the lady at the bank already knows me by face and name and asks about the Cowboy whenever I stop by.  She gives the LO a lollipop (which the banking lady calls a sucker) and the dogs get biscuits.  It’s that kind of small town.  I’m starting to understand why the Cowboy loves it so.

All that said ... anyone for Little Dom's?

dinner party download ...

062710.  Firstly, (because I’m sure you are all curious) the meal was delicious.  But there was nothing Pakistani about it … except the chef.  Sort of.  He is really an American-born-Berkeley grad whose parents were from Pakistan.  His “day-job” is waiting tables at a restaurant downtown Bozeman.  He just happens to be an incredible cook, and he does these dinners once a month just for the fun of feeding people excellent food (and for a little extra money).

 

There was a last-minute substitution for the second course, so there was no salmon sashimi tartar.  Instead, he delighted our palates with a “potato ravioli” stuffed with Portobello mushroom and homemade ricotta.  Basically, it was paper-thin sliced potatoes filled with a gorgeous concoction of mushroom and ricotta and then fried.  Like stuffed potato chips topped with a salsa of pears sautéed in garlic rosemary butter.  Oh my.  AMAZING.

And the mango tart was way better than it sounds.  Way better.

And I’m sorry I didn’t take pictures, but I was just meeting these ladies for the first time and I didn’t want them to think I was all in their business! (By the way, the photo here is a random one I found online at the Napa Valley St. Supery Winery website …it’s almost as pretty as the table our hostess set up on her back patio.)

But more important than the food (did I really say that???? Who am I?).  No really.  More important than the food … the gals at the dinner were a great mix of fabulousness.  Lawyers, Pilates instructors, marketing gurus, stay-at-home-moms-who-are-just-re-entering-the-workforce-after-9 ½-years, and the list goes on.  Each was interesting and charming and funny and awesome (I use that word too much) in her own way.  And I might go so far as to say that there are two or three of them that I’d like to find in my daily life.  I even traded numbers with a few.  Woohoo!!!

Q: How long should I wait to call?  Is it like a Swingers situation where I have to wait three days?

Yogini up!

062310.  Sometimes the signs are there, you just have to take time to read them.  For example:  I was feeling “blue” on Monday.  And Tuesday started out a little rough.  And I realize now that I was doing a lot of reacting.  Waiting for things to go wrong, instead of doing things right.  (Like, I waited for the LO to get hungry before making her lunch … I waited for the dogs to growl at each other before taking away the bone …  I waited until the clouds rolled in before taking a walk … etc.)

I think it might have been getting caught in a torrential downpour that finally woke me up.  It was a short storm.  But powerful.  Thunder.  Lightening.  Buckets of rain and hail.  The whole shebang.  And while we were just at the edge of the driveway when it started, we managed to get pretty stinkin’ soaked on the short walk to the front door. 

I wish I had taken a picture, but I was a little more worried about getting the LO into a warm bath and into cozy dry pajamas than I was about finding my camera … next time I’ll leave it by the door.  BUT (lucky us) here’s a video that someone else took and posted on youtube so you can experience the weather of Bozeman.

The Cowboy says it rains here most days in the summer.

For about 15 minutes.

Late in the afternoon.

Which makes it just like the island of Kauai.

(Photo is from Kauai in 2006 …fun times, I tell you)

And that’s awesome.

So anyway.

After the storm.

And after the bath.

And after the cozy pajamas.

I realized something.

I felt better.

A lot better.

And then I realized something else.

It was just like Jodi said in her comment on the post from Monday night.

Take a cold shower.  Put on some clean clothes.

And do a little breath of fire.

Except this time I didn’t have to take the shower myself … it was handed to me … and yes, it was cold!  And yes, the pajamas were clean and soft and warm.  And as for the breath of fire …not sure I was doing breath of fire, but I was sure breathing pretty substantially.

Thank you for the reminder, Jodi.  And thank you, Universe, for, you know, just being you.

Isn't it ironic?

061410. How long have we been in Bozeman? 

 Nine days? 

 Maybe ten? 

 It depends on whether you count the Saturday we arrived. 

And the Cowboy’s been out of town in Washington at a rodeo and picking up the horses and one of the dogs since last Thursday. (He gets back tonight.) 

We only have about 1/16th of the boxes unpacked. 

The lawn still needs to be mowed. 

But we’re really starting to like this place. It’s beautiful. 

The people have been great and welcoming. 

The restaurants are surprisingly tasty. 

(They make a Banana Bread French toast … are you kidding me???? Awesome.) 

And there are a handful of great coffee shops downtown (I love me a good coffee shop, yes I do!) 

(This one's my favorite, so far.) 

My yoga practice is flourishing. (I’m not teaching yet, but at least I’m doing it every day.) 

And now … The Cowboy’s got a new job offer. It’s a 10-week job. Just for the summer. 

But we didn’t like not seeing him for 3 months when he was off to Utah. 

So we’ve made a crazy decision. 

We’re packing again. 

Where are we going, you ask? 

Are you ready for this? 

I’m not sure I am. 

I can’t actually bring myself to write the words. 

A picture will have to do. 

Isn’t it ironic? Don’tcha think?  (Of note:  this Alanis Morrisette song was popular when I moved there the FIRST time in 1995 ...)

Q: What's your theme song for the day?

Get lost...

061310.  Getting lost used to mean driving home from Silver Lake or Echo Park and taking a wrong turn, finding myself in a heavily tagged, potentially gang-infested, prostitute laden area.  I don’t have pictures.  But believe me … It was a little daunting.  Especially at dusk. 

Getting lost today (actually yesterday) is different.

Way more picturesque.

Gorgeous, actually. (The pictures don't do it justice.  In part because you can't hear the sounds of the rushing river.  So nice.)

 But surprisingly no less daunting (cue the dueling banjos from Deliverance)

Thank goodness the Cowboy gave me a GPS…

Q: Have you been lost lately (figuratively and/or literally)?

A lot of unpacking to do ... but not today

060610.  Three days on the road.

Eighteen hours of driving.

  
Nearly 1,150 miles.  Through California.  Nevada.  Arizona.  Utah.  Idaho.  And finally ...

 

And this morning, we woke up in beautiful Bozeman.

I don’t even mind that I missed my meditations 3 days in a row and have to begin again. Or that the movers are set to arrive when the Cowboy's out of town later this week (he's got to pick up the horses and dog out of state to bring them home). Or that we have more than a little unpacking to do (those 60+ boxes are going to somehow have to squeeze into the Cowboy's already fully-furnished house). 

But all that can wait.

Because today, we just want to rest and enjoy our new home.

Today, we are going to relax and smell the fresh-cut grass.

Today, we are just going to "be." 

  
I think we’re going to like it here …

Q: What are your plans for the day?

My life … in 60 boxes* (words) or less …

052810.  Movers today.  Just called.  Thirty minutes. 

After days of packing and sorting and cleaning (and packing and sorting and cleaning), I’m ready. 

Thirty minutes left to reflect.

Sad to leave the land of the SupermMom & SuperStepDad …and the SuperFriends.

Anxious to be starting a new life in a new town in the cold Big Sky country.

Blissful to be reunited with the Cowboy.

  

*NOTE: 64 words … oh well … I couldn’t fit my stuff in 60 boxes, either.

Q: What’s on your mind today?

quatro de mayo

050410.  I keep thinking about this year’s astrological and numerological forecast.  2010.  Apparently, it’s what they call a “warrior year” … an “all or nothing” year … a “destiny” year. 

From what I understand (which isn’t very much with regard to numerology), the number 10 is very powerful.  It’s the year when everything you’ve been sowing for the past nine years is finally harvested.  All that energy (good and bad) that you’ve been putting into the Universe comes back at you, tenfold.  So it’s supposed to be a pretty intense year.

And if these first four months are any indication … “they” seem to be right. 

I also understand that this year is a year when the Universe is going to put the choice for your destiny in front of you one last time … This is it.  You can either choose to live your destiny, or not.  But it’s not going to present itself again.  So it seems like a good time to choose your destiny.  No?

I guess I’m doing a lot of thinking about this because a few things have happened this past week that bubble it all up.

Firstly, I finished my Level One Kundalini Yoga Teacher Training with an incredible weekend of yoga, meditation and lecture.  It started (as all the KYTT weekends did) on Friday at 6 pm and went through Sunday at 7.   And I had one of those weekends when sleep just eluded me.  In the 54 hours from Friday until Sunday, I slept about 6 hours.  And I had to teach my practicum in front of one of my teachers and my study group.  And I had to turn in 40 pages of homework.  And I had to be “present” for all the yoga, meditation and lectures. 

(To be honest, I’m not sure how I got through it … but I did … and it was incredible … and now I’m a Kundalini Yoga Teacher!)

Secondly, I went into the office yesterday morning to meet with The Boss … and five years, two movies, one documentary, countless projects on the precipice of being made and a lot of life blood … it’s all coming to a close.  I’ve given my notice.  I’m not going to work on the latest movie.  I’m going to pick up all my stuff and all the LO’s stuff, and we’re going to move to Montana with the Cowboy. 

And as I first wrote in my first blog … things are going to fall away that don’t fit into the picture.  I’m still writing (blog, book and soon-to-write-script).  I’m still practicing yoga (more than ever before).  I’m spending more time with and being more present for the LO (my favorite parts of the day).  I’m cooking more (even making bread – with the Cowboy’s recipe).

And away we go …

I’m committing to being the Yogini Cowgirl … for life.

Q:  What Destiny is knocking on your door?  Are you answering it?

i think i found it ...

042910.  My next meditation, that is…

(okay, so this photo has NOTHING to do with today's blog ... but this is what was hanging in our hotel shower after the housekeepers came on Saturday ... I think it was supposed to be a cute thing for the LO ... But I mostly thought it was scary and was afraid to touch it so it stayed hanging there until we checked out on Monday ... yikes) 

And now back to the blog ...

The meditation is called “Conquer Inner Anger and Burn it Out.”

From the KRI (Kundalini Research Institute) book Reaching Me in Me

Which kind of sounds angry.

And not like me at all.

But the description of it is AWESOME.

“If you do this eleven minutes every day, your entire life will change.  This will give you a new life.  Do this for forty days, it will change your personality from A-Z.”

Funny … (not funny as in “ha ha” … more funny as in “pause for moment of reflection”)

… as I typed the description I changed my mind.

It felt wrong.

I don’t think it’s right for me.

I don’t think I’m angry enough.

And I don’t want a new life.

I like my life.

I love the Cowboy.

I love the LO.

I even love my neurotic ball of a dog.

I’m excited for today, tomorrow and the next day.

Hmmm …

This post is NOTHING like I had planned.

I guess I’m going to have to keep looking.

Q: What are you looking for? 

ruminations on the road ...

042810. When something gets in your way …

 

Sometimes … 

 

You just have to take a few steps back …

 

To see the Big Picture.

 

You might discover that it’s not a road block.

But rather, you might have taken one too many steps off your path...

 

Or it's really just an ice cream cone made out of rock.

another lesson learned... ?

042010. I don’t know about you, but most times, I have a difficult time asking for and accepting help … especially when it’s offered without my asking …

The go-to response in my head is “I don’t want to put you out, or inconvenience anyone in any way”… which means for a terrible cycle of not asking, not receiving, not asking, not receiving.

But I’m starting to re-think that philosophy.  Because if you needed my help, I’d like to think I’d be first in line.  There’s a good chance I’d help you move.  I’d definitely make you tea if you didn’t feel well.  I’d bring you soup.  I’d drive you to the airport.  Whatever.  And you probably wouldn’t even have to ask.  You certainly wouldn't have to ask twice :)

So yesterday, I asked my SuperMom and SuperStepDad to watch Henry while the LO and I go to visit the Cowboy in Utah.  We’re driving (11 hours), and I sort of started to feel overwhelmed by the idea of taking care of both the LO and the Henry along the drive. 

The H is cute.  

But he is NOT a good passenger. 

(the two faces of the H ... happy and whole ... and a neurotic mess of love) 

He gets whiney.  He whimpers.  He paces.  He licks the side windows.  (Seriously an unpleasant habit.  I can barely see out the back windows because of the spit streaks … ew … I just grossed myself out.  Sorry.)

So I asked.  And they said yes.  And then I said … “No.  That’s okay.  It’s too much.  You guys do too much, already.”

And the SuperMom said “sleep on it.  Call me tomorrow.”

She is one smart and awesome cookie, that SuperMom.

So today I called back.

And I am really thankful they are such generous-hearted, awesome parental units.  I don’t know how I’m ever going to make it up to them for all they do for me and the LO.

Q: What do you have to be thankful for today? 

 

I have a confession ...

040810. I write lists.

Short lists.

Long lists.

Lists of books I want to read.

Lists of classes I'd like to take.

Lists for the grocery store: [milk, eggs, bananas, Kombucha – only guava goddess (2),  pears, skinny cows, etc.].

Lists of things to do:[taxes, meditate, read script(s), go to grocery store, write blog, make vegie puree for LO, etc etc.].

Lists of people I want to call or need to call back: [the cowboy, the SuperMom, the boss, the pals, the agents, the managers, etc., etc.].

Wish lists of things I want to accomplish, things I want to do, and even things I might like to buy some day.

And every once in a while (like today), I find one of my lists …long after it’s been written …long after I’ve either done or not done what’s there.  This one was folded up in a book that I happened to take off the shelf to pack up today (the packing story is for another post ...but everything's good ...moving again isn't a bad thing.)

I was on a plane when this was written …see how I just ripped a page from whatever in-flight magazine was handy.  I think I was on my way home from a trip to Berlin –  a crazy weekend trip to the Berlin Film Festival in February 2008 (two 13-hour flights, two nights in a cheap but pleasant hotel in East Berlin during which I shared a room with Deborah – a line producer who I knew for about 3 weeks before that trip).  It was awesome.  And I love Berlin.

But even more than the reminder of the moment the list was written (and it is a great memory... I'm not denying that), what I love about finding an old list, is the bold comment it makes about how little control we really have over what the Universe has in store.

Because this list was written before I met the Cowboy. 

At a time when I had given up on the idea of love.

At a time when I knew I was never going to have a child.

When I believed I couldn't have a child.

When I was sure that I was going to get a dog.

I was right about was the dog.

(This is Henry.  I adopted him in May 2008.  He was almost 4 then.  And his name wasn’t always Henry.  But that was just a mistake made by his previous owners.  He’s more of a “Henry” than anyone else I’ve ever met.)

I was right about a few of the trips. (I still haven’t made it to Paris, Denmark, Seattle or Argentina …but we’re hoping to remedy that soon.)

And I was right about the bed ... I bought a new bed (mattress and frame ... it was long in the coming, and one my best purchases ever.)

Funny how much we don’t know about what the Universe has in store.

Funny how, in 3 short months, everything can change. (That's when the Cowboy walked by my office door and changed my life forever.)

Funny how, now 2 years later, I can look at this list and not recognize the handwriting even though it's my own.  Not recognize the woman who wrote it despite knowing it was me.  And recognize that I’m happier today than the woman who wrote this list could have imagined.

Q: What’s on your “to do“ list? 

inspired by the Dalai Lama ... but more so by my sister

032610.  The Dalai Lama says: "Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them." 

And I know at least one person in the world who lives by this ...whether she knows it or not.

In the fall of 2007, my sister Teri, who is a Master Sergeant in the US Army, was deployed to Iraq and spent 15 months in or around Kirkuk.  About 150 miles north of Baghdad.  

She's an M.P.  And over the course of her years in the military (18 years, at this point), she has been stationed all over the world. From Germany to Panama to Savannah, Kansas, Honduras and Alaska.  She served as a Drill Sergeant (and lost her voice so bad, she's got a permanent rasp that she did NOT have before.  It's kind of sexy.  I think her hubby must dig it).  And then was the only woman to hold the job of Drill Sergeant who trains Drill Sergeants (and there's a job title for that, but I can't remember what it is).

(She could basically kick all of our butts ...and not break a sweat ...or raise a finger. She's that good.)

Part of her job in Iraq was to help train the Iraqi Police Force.  But I'm not going to claim to know a lot about her time there.  She didn't (and doesn't) really talk about it all that much.  (Maybe that's my fault ...I might not ask enough questions about it, for fear that she'll tell me something that scares me.)

The few stories she has told me include: the Humvee she was driving was blown up on the side of the road while she was in a coffee shop.  She told me about the bike she rode to work.  And I have a vague memory of her telling me about the donkey she promised to bring home for her daughter ... (but I think that was a joke or something, and I still don't quite get it ...).

But the thing about Teri is ... and she's always been this way ... when she sees something wrong, she goes out of her way to fix it.  Like ...if I was getting picked on by a neighbor, she would intercede on my behalf and that neighbor would run home crying.  If someone didn't have money for lunch, she would give up part (or all) of hers.  If she found a dog being abused or neglected, she'd be the first one to take it in and care for it.

This is NOT to say that Teri is a saint or an angel.  Definitely.  Not an angel.  And I know this because I was on the receiving end of more than my share of wedgies ...more than my share of taunts and tortures.  (I don't know if I will ever wear Wranglers again because of the teasing she bestowed on my insecure 9-year-old head ...not that Wranglers are all the rage these days ...I'm just saying ...I'm not running out to buy a new pair.)

So as I mentioned yesterday, Teri's being re-deployed to Iraq in about 10 days or so.  And I've been doing a lot of thinking about it.  About how challenging it is for her family (she has a husband and daughter that are the lights of her life).  About the work she's going to be doing there (this time she's going to replace another Master Sergeant and finish up his tour ...and bring some troops home!!!).  And about the work she did last time.

I keep remembering back to the work she did last time.  

Not necessarily as a soldier.  

Although she was always a soldier.  

I'm talking about how she got to Kirkuk, spent time with the people there, realized how hard their lives were, and really did something to make things better for them.  And in the process, she gave us (especially me) a chance to feel like we were doing something to help them, too.

You see, what she did was this ... she noticed that there were a lot of kids in town.

And she noticed that a lot of those kids didn't have a lot.

Like ...they didn't have pencils or pens or paper.

They didn't have a lot of food.

And they didn't have coats.

And winter was just around the corner.

So Teri called our SuperMom.

She said, "Hey SuperMom, these people have nothing.  Can you ask around and see if anyone has any old second hand children's coats or something?" (or something like that.)

And then SuperMom called me and said she was putting together a box to send over.

And I emailed all the women in my contact list that I knew had children.

And many of them emailed their friends.

And in about a month, we had about 750 coats and pants and shirts and other kids clothes (and coats for adults, too) to send to Kirkuk. (That might be an exaggeration, but I'm pretty sure it was close to 750.)

And even though it took 6 or 8 weeks for every shipment to get to Iraq ...all 15-20 boxes arrived. (Thanks to the lady at the US Postal Service who helped me get them all together week after week!)

Teri coordinated distributing the coats (and other clothes) with the local school and the local police.  

And she told me about some of the kids who showed up to the truck:

One boy in particular.  He was about 7 years old.  A skinny little thing.  And he wasn't wearing any pants.  I guess he found a pair of sweatpants in the pile that fit him perfectly.  According to Teri, he did a "happy pants dance."

And a lot of women in Los Angeles got to feel the magic of that "happy pants dance."

Especially me.

(I still get a little overwhelmed when I think about that little one ... probably more now that I've got a little one of my own.)

So ...thanks, Teri.

Keep living life like the Dalai Lama and the world will have no choice but to become a better place.

Q: Who inspires you to live a little bit better, be a little bit kinder, do just a little bit more?