I have been 50 foot Queenie since my friend CK named me decades ago when we worked at a vegetarian restaurant in Chicago. I am one of "those" Elizabeths, who make some men feel a little less than verticle. But the name comes from a PJ Harvey song that is a perfect answer to the misogynistic culture that is sometimes "Rock and Roll". It is one heck of a song and I would like to include it here. This is from a show in 1993 which I saw at the Metro in Chicago:



"50 Foot Queenie"

Hey I'm one big queen
No one can stop me
Red light red green
Sat back and watching
I'm your new one
Second to no one
No sweat I'm clean
Nothing can touch me

Tell you my name
F U and C K
50ft queenie
Force ten hurricane
Biggest woman
I could have ten sons
Ten gods ten queens
Ten foot and rising

Hey I'm the king of the world
You oughta hear my song
You come on and measure me
I'm twenty inches long

Glory, glory
Lay it all on me
50ft queenie
50 and rising
You bend over
Casanova
No sweat I'm clean
Nothing can touch me

Hey I'm the king of the world
You oughta hear my song
You come on and measure me
I'm twenty inches long...

Poem for Dorothy Parker
by Elizabeth Jackson Doshi

Enough is not part
of my repertoire
Hunger fills this space
Its always draught and want
and need and please
that the plenty
in my case

If I had a check
for every emptied store
a credit for my dues
there'd be no grave
for all my joys
nor tomb
for happy news

OPENING

The last time I felt like this was when I was in the process of falling in love with my husband AND AT THE SAME TIME having to leave a job about which I cared a great deal. I was in a state of free fall. The window was open and I was leaving a position where many of my friends and connections existed and my sense of self was being questioned and redefined. The difference between the last time and this time is that I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO LOSE and I still feel like I am losing. And last time I managed to snag a really excellent job within 2 weeks!

The rune for opening looks like this:

<


and its meaning is clarity or darkness dispelled.

I tried to get on a plane last Thursday for Bali with my family but was barred from boarding because the airline we were ticketed with insisted on me having 4 blank visa pages in my passport (I had three). It was for me the last straw in a series of seemingly strange events that have me thinking I have lost my mojo, my strength, my magic. Everything I have been trying to do since January has eluded me. The window is open and my songbird has flown.

Or has it?

NO MIND

The No Mind is the intrinsic essence of mind, the true self. It is inherently pure and good, and in Christian terms it can be said to participate in the Kingdom of God. In Eastern traditions it is prior to thought, prior to desire, prior to any conceptualization at all. It is discovered by stripping away all sensation, desire, concepts, intellection, volition, and awareness of "I." It partakes of the Oneness of all. Buddhism calls this mind the Buddha Nature, and much of Buddhist practice is aimed at its realization. They call it "no-mind" because it is without any grasping at a (selfish) self. Taoists agree, and seek to strip away all intellection and formalism in order to arrive at the spontaneous activity of the natural man who lives at one with the Tao of the universe. All attachments must be stripped away until there is nothing but emptiness. Then the heart can be heard.

Mushin (無心; Chinese wúxīn; English translation "no-mindedness") is a mental state into which very highly trained martial artists are said to enter during combat. They also practice this mental state during everyday activities. The term is shortened from mushin no shin (無心の心), a Zen expression meaning mind of no mind and is also referred to as the state of "no-mindness". That is, a mind not fixed or occupied by thought or emotion and thus open to everything. For the origin of the mushin concept, see Muga-mushin. It is somewhat analogous to flow experienced by artists deeply in a creative process.

Old World maps fascinated me as a young adult. I even considered having one tattooed to my back. I am happy to say that I decided against it. Though maps continue to interest me, especially hand-drawn maps. In Fourth grade at many Waldorf schools the students are taught to make maps of their classrooms (or bedrooms) and then the school, town and state. Learning how to put everything in its place and in correct proportion is a good exercise.

In the David Foster Wallace book, "Infinite Jest" his main character refers to his mind or brain as his "map". I hold true to this and so I include the following poem I wrote a decade ago.

My Minds
by Elizabeth Jackson Doshi

There are several minds like deities
that reign o'er my evolution
on the strength of their varieties
and wheels need revolution


The gods that are consistent
turn to turn away
these furies spin persistent
For punishment is pay

Count these minds in me
actors on a much loved stage
adored in tempered purity
worshiped in epidemic rage

The most unlikely friends
I'm forced to call my own
The coward and the hypocrite
The Infirm and the clone

All is not completely lost
and as my tongue would have it
the tales I tell are tickets tossed
to stars redeemed and so uncrossed
My freedom almost nearly won
to galaxy from favored sun

No one sees my efforts now
but minds within needs surely bow
at tables set and sched's complete
no love drops lost of tempest's beat

Confusion guided, strayers found
I wooed a murderer's heart to peace
and tore the dullard's sense unbound
These tasks I vow to never cease
as long as living I still long live
to stumble into prayer and give
the only prize I care to own
in name, my minds' immortal bones.

LOVE

The word love is overused but also powerful and creative in its work.In my youthful innocence I wrote my admissions essay for Bard College's undergraduate program on the word love. They accepted me but I dropped out after two years. I think I fell in love and left when my boyfriend graduated. They should have known.

Sonnet XXX
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Love is not all: It is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain,
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
and rise and sink and rise and sink again.
Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
pinned down by need and moaning for release
or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It may well be. I do not think I would.
From Fatal Interview (1931)

"To know that we know what we know, and that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge." Henry David Thoreau

How do you KNOW what you KNOW? And also, when it changes (as it always does)?

I know I am kind but I also know I am moderately difficult.
I know I claim kinship with many people with whom I have no blood ties but there are times that I cast out a whole country with the word, "Fools!"
I know the present moment is the best for finding truth and that the past has increasingly drugged me and detained me from living fully.
I know my "enemies" are really angels disguised in order to teach.
I know that patience is a powerfully ally but not yet my personal friend.
I know parenthood is a joyful and sublime journey on the path of humility.
I know my beliefs do not define my essence nor yours and yet at times I pretend to think otherwise.
I know love is not always a bouquet of roses but sometimes a desperate longing or an emptiness waiting for that which comes.

Jump from the frying pan
into a cool, deep, mineral bath.

Jump wildly like the Bird of Paradise
and then land like a Gooney Bird.

Jump rope and skip class.

Jump ship and sink or swim.

Jump in
out
side
side
on
in
OUT.

Inky Pinky

is a game we used to play on long road trips. One person thinks of two rhyming words and then provides a simple hint to help others solve the riddle.

Example:

Itch niche- A spot for scratching
Ill Bill- Sickly William
Imp Blimp- A dirigible for the mischievous
Piglet Iglet- Miniature ice house for young swine


Note* Any words will do, not just those that begin with an "I"- but I thought in honor of this day...

Hello!
We are hooked!
Tho' not usually if lately you've looked
for marble hats
or hungry walls.

We aren't usually found together at all.

But who cares? Said the husk
of a handle-bar tarp
to the trampoline horse
in the habit of a harp!

Note* The idea of "Hooking" comes from "Rip the Page" by Karen Benke, a Trumpeter book.

Gentlefolk I greet thee!
Gather around to gaze
at this grand gift-

That Jack with his good sense and guts has got
From the greedy giant.

I generate for you here
a list of other gains:

Gold! And the goodwill of the dame of said "governor"
for freeing her from his grape-gorging-girth.
She will not grieve greatly!

A harp whose gospel strains would melt
the glacial heart of any gladiator.

And Goodness, the gratitude we have
for that guy, Jack

Golly gee, is pretty great!

If only we could fly
we would be free
from this foolishness
of forgetting.

Our wings now fins,
our song forever filtered
through the flux and flow.

Flushed, flung,
finally our fleet surfaces.
Forests, fields and above,
"What is this firmament?"

Enter our empathic and empirical existence and
end your ever-excluding ethnocentrism.

My Ethiopian Ebony locks
has entered like Sheba

A queen even as she eats
the edibles of others,

"Oh, Excuse me" she emits
while exiting
the establishment entirely.

Don't dither!
Delaying will only disrupt
the dawning of the day.
Dare to dash
through the open door
Discuss no more,
Deeper, come this way!

Cast an eye
and cut it close.
They are creatures
both candid and cunning.

I crave the curl
of a sun-contented cat!
Or the disappearing act
that is the feline running!

For comfort
take the B.
It is soft on the lips and no matter
how violent the bear
one imagines his soft sleeping form
Breathing.

And the bell.
No amount of ringing
could erase its angelic call.

In the beginning was the word
and the word was everything inside and apart.

Sound created matter and words formed them into beings.
The Apple was just the start.

Ah is the sound of wonder and what better way to enter
the world, into the alphabet and the pieces of our written heart?

Today is my sister R's birthday. I believe that makes her 39. One more year to be 30 lucky girl. And soon I will see her. There are seven of us and she is the youngest sister but don't let that fool you. She is certainly quite a commanding person. And I am wishing her a magical year. Go Girl!

For the next month I will be posting every day as part of the A to Z challenge. In this way I will finish my Waldorf Alphabet Book AND find a way to post/write more regularly. It will also keep me from going crazy waiting to find out whether I got a job in Seattle.

Blessings on the month of March and wishes for present-mindedness for April!

Yesterday the girls returned from the enforced Elizabeth-is-looking-for-a-job break from homeschooling. We got right into it.

Here are two forms we moved first before drawing. That is, each of us took our place on a triangle and one after the other moved one color section of the form. The two forms are similar enough to show how straight lines and curved lines can really feel so profoundly different.


And on to Pythagoras...

Statement on the Pending Reduction of Intercountry Adoption in Ethiopia posted by Joint Council's Be the Answer campaign website:


"Last week the Ethiopian Ministry of Women, Children and Youth Affairs announced their intention to reduce intercountry adoptions by 90% beginning March 10, 2011. The Ministry’s plan for a dramatic reduction is apparently based on two primary issues; 1) the assumption that corruption in intercountry adoption is systemic and rampant and 2) the Ministry’s resources should be focused on the children for whom intercountry adoption is not an option. Without further announcements by the Government of Ethiopia, it is our understanding that the Ministry’s plan will be initiated this week.

The Ministry’s plan is a tragic, unnecessary and disproportionate reaction to concerns of isolated abuses in the adoption process and fails to reflect the overwhelmingly positive, ethical and legal services provided to children and families through intercountry adoption. Rather than eliminate the right of Ethiopian children to a permanent family, we encourage the Ministry to accept the partnerships offered by governments, NGOs, and foundations. Such partnerships could increase the Ministry’s capacity to regulate service providers and further ensure ethical adoptions.

The Ministry’s plan which calls for the processing of only five adoption cases per work day, will result not only in systemic and lasting damage to a large sector of social services, but will have an immediate impact on the lives and futures of children. Moving from over 4,000 adoptions per year to less than 500 will result in thousands of children languishing in under-regulated and poorly resourced institutions for years. For those children who are currently institutionalized and legally available for adoption, the Ministry’s plan will increase their time languishing in institutions for up to 7-years.

Joint Council respectfully urges the Ministry of Women, Children and Youth Affairs to reconsider their plan and to partner with governments, NGOs and foundations to achieve their goals and avoid the coming tragedy for children and families."

Be The Answer is a campaign of Joint Council on International Chiildren's Services

Altho' I may get in trouble for posting this, I just had to do it 'lil rocker!

It is 4:30 in the morning and although I did take a remedy for jet lag which helped with dizziness and disorientation I cannot sleep.

All is well here. Everyone survived without me.

Saturday is Booty's birthday and party and we are celebrating grandpa's birthday tonite. For Booty's party we are having a girl's tea with sandwiches, silk painting and games. I am looking forward to it and hope that my very sweet girl has fun.

Recently found out that for many years I was referred to as "Gov."
I guess that doesn't surprise me. My youngest sister has a similar moniker, "Generalissima".

Are we just a bunch of bossy ladies?

Dear Creator,
I miss my family and pray that you will see my way clear to them within the next 48 hours. I am very anxious about flying into and out of Japan. Please guide me and keep me safe so I can be with them soon.
My baby's face and the loving eyes of my husband are in my heart.
Here we go...

Mamacita is the spokeswoman for the C/T household and she is quite a charmer.



And you may not like slugs, but I do, especially Banana slugs. Here is a baby one I spotted on our walk through what we could refer to as "Preservation Park", a beautiful forest and ocean front conservation area, which Preserve Our Islands recently rescued in a decade long fight and victory over a Gravel mining corporation.




Skyping has been a very painful activity for me and Booty. It is very hard to hang up when you can see the people you miss so much right in front of you. Lots of tears.

It is hard to talk about what is happening in Japan because I could never express the realities that have and continue to unfold for people there. It is a "worst case" scenario for an earthquake/tsunami event except for the fact that the architecture was built with earthquakes in mind and this means less damage less lives lost.

I wonder if everyone brought rice with them on the flight into Japan, if there could be a way to get it to the people that can't get food.

I have had a very exciting week.
I arrived in Washington state on Saturday morning without too much difficulty, and even slept a few winks. My friend, A met me at the airport and rode with me back to her home on Vashon island. There, her 6 dogs and 2 cats greeted us enthusiastically and I was able to fill up on plenty of high quality dog love.

Communication issues abounded during my week and to keep these issues private lets just say I have learned when moving country to be aware of the different ways people are comfortable communicating. Contacting people by email AND phone is advisable. And give extra options for contacts if possible.

I loved staying on Whidbey Island. The setting is absolutely gorgeous. No traffic. No commuting faculty. No chain stores. Great food and coffee. Just brilliant. Mostly very low key people and everything moves slowly. The children there are lovely and welcomed me into their classrooms graciously. The walks I took with the Kinder children deep into the woods filled me with awe and joy. The weather was misty and I venture, not cold.

Bellevue, Washington is largely suburban with long not so appealing strips of congested areas like most wealthy towns in the US. The school is lovely, with a hidden, wooded area in the back perfect for young children. The school also abuts a botanic garden and large park. The people are gregarious and mostly fit my age group so seem to be more "like me". The children here surprised me with their lack of "rich kid" mentality. The older children and the younger were respectful and interested. The weather was crazy- raining hard, misting, sunny with a wave of warmth, a fat rainbow all in one day.

I have no sense of how things will unfold because there are situations at both schools which require patience on my part. Another lesson.

Last night there was a wind storm that knocked out the electricity on Vashon. The ferry ride over was very dramatic with sea spray covering my windshield in agressive bursts.
And I am now watching the news and trying to keep updated on the events in Japan,namely a tsunami, which may effect my travel plans returning home because my stop-over is Narita airport outside of Tokyo.



I plan to visit with my old school-mate this afternoon in Seattle and have lunch with my aunt tomorrow back here on Vashon.

"Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about... they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they're cattle. Well in my book, my father died a much richer man than you'll ever be!"

My response to the Governor of Wisconsin.

I would love to teach this song to an 8th grade class!

So far a list of topics I will be sharing:

Maybe platonic solids?
Geometric Drawing (Circle bisection)
Perspective drawing of stairs
Round singing
Fractions (Game)
Movement and drawing with young children
Letter drawing and writing
The Curious Lobster (telling just a small excerpt of a story my grandpa wrote in the 1930's)

Don't count on anything of use from me in the near future.
I will be busy preparing lessons, and trying to make sense of why I have decided to launch myself into the universe in hopes of finding a job and a home for our family in the States.

If the gate is unlocked I will open it.

On days like these, I really miss dogs!
Dear Bob-the-black-lab at the farm in Australia,

You were a good friend to us during our short visit. You did not pester us but always showed up at the perfect time to be pet, and to hang out on the porch. Occasionally, you entertained us by running after the tractor or by catching bubbles in your mouth. Essentially, you are the kind of dog I like; gentle, faithful and joyful.

We miss you Bob!

I AM TRULY SORRY
***

I henna-ed my hair today, inspired by another friend who also recently henna-ed. It came out exactly the color it was supposed to- mahogany. And so my hair has a shiny reddish brown tint to it.

It turns out it is sort of like my scarlet letter.

A very dear and kind friend of mine told me today how I have been harsh with her in the past and that it hurt her deeply. And if this is not bad enough, there are a few others I have hurt because of my harshness.

And I am going public with this very private information because I don't want to do this anymore. And I am glad that my red hair warns everyone who sees me- "Here comes that hothead. Look out!" And reminds myself when I look in the mirror- "Don't let your righteousness wrong others."

I don't want to be a hot head anymore. I want to be a warm person and to be truthful, yet kind and simple in my words.

Car Stories

Yesterday I got into a friend's car. This is unusual for me because we mostly take the train or a cab. So, we were driving in her Lexus hybrid and it started me reminiscing about my cars.

When we were both quite a bit younger, like most kids, we tended to be overly optimistic about how much gas we had in the tank. She ran out of gas only 6 blocks from her house which was a piece of luck. I ran out of gas on a 4 lane highway in my Cadillac Sedan de Ville. Try to turn THAT steering wheel when you have just lost your power steering! A bit of a miracle really but those driving along side of me did not even hesitate when getting out of my way.

One of the most incredible of car story tellers is Tom Waits, and for more about his cars try this link.

Before I got a license I used to drive another friend's VW rabbit. I drove very carefully so as not to upset the police. One time however, I was pulled over and the officer asked for my license. I lied and said, "I am sorry officer, I forgot my license at home and I am late for work!" He asked where I worked (which is what I was hoping) and when I responded "Leona's" he just walked away from the car without a word. You see, in those days and maybe even today, Chicago cops ate half price at Leona's and rarely busted an employee.

My first car (with M.C.) was a tan 1973 Mercedez. That car could take a turn on a dime and saved my reckless life several times. The floor in front of the back seat rusted out. I sold it to a Jesus-looking junkyard man with turquoise blue eyes for $50 and wept as he towed it away.

Getting ready for:

My visit to Seattle and two Waldorf Schools for interviews.
Handing over my administrator position at the Waldorf school here,
Our friends Michael and Lakshmi to arrive next week,
Our school's Open house (hence the crazy crafting I am doing above),
Booty's school vacation next week,
and forgot about

cooking for the school today-
woops.

"Dirty Colored Skin"
I am
too sensitive.
I know.
But when someone says that brown skin is "dirty", even if it is in reference to their own "high yellow" tone, it makes me burn.
OK. I will put out the fire.
But I would like to say something.
Or shouldn't I?

My students S and O will be finishing their first "Main Lesson" book in a few days. It is filled with the work we have done together; drawings, writings, diagrams, maps, geometric forms etc. It is always nice to have one's work documented beautifully. Don't you think it would be wonderful if we all did it?



A little more about Matheran...
When we arrived there were elderly ladies begging us to let them carry our baggage to the hotel. The same at the transfer station. It is hard to hand over your heavy bags to someone who appears to be the age of your mother. We took most of the bags in the cart that carried mom (Hemanshu's) but one woman persisted and we gave her a bag.

In this picture we are trying to catch the second train and ahead is a man carrying 4 of our bags. I feel very "soft" at these times.

My flights to Seattle are booked. I will be seeing some of my dearest friends very soon.

Ah. I will take a horse anytime over a monkey.
These monkeys especially will adjust your idea of "cute animals". Even Booty has decided that she doesn't much like them anymore. H is not easily corrupted by experience- he still thinks they are dear little creatures. Even after one tried to attack me.

We were sitting by the pool having an afternoon pot of chai. All of a sudden a monkey saunters toward us very deliberately. I knew right away he was after the sugar so I put a heavy saucer on the lid. This did not seem to deter him at all and he continued to aggressively approach our table. I threw a spoon in front of him to try and scare him away. But that did nothing. He grabbed the sugar bowl and faced me, hissing and ready for a showdown. I knew better and broke eye contact immediately and turned around. He then sat down 2 feet away and contentedly ate the entire contents of the sugar bowl. After this he came for our chai pot and I even hoped he would find a way to the scalding chai. He did not but we lost interest in the pot after he had handled it.

Throughout the trip we learned that the monkeys will not back down unless you have a weapon (a broom or even better a sling shot). We purchased two of the latter and survived the rest of our holiday without having to get a tetanus shot. This was not the fate of a friend of mine who attempted to grab back a stolen item from a monkey and was left with deep scratches on her arms.

Sometimes when the habitat of man and animal collide, it is not a pretty picture.

I love my India!

Getting used to the quiet and the order of Singapore can take time. Especially after a trip to Mumbai with lots of riksha rides.

We were so lucky to go to Matheran again, and Booty rode a pony (Mr. Mintu) for 2 days straight! I think we have a horsey girl here! And we finally got to experience the trains in India! We took the train from Mumbai to the bottom of the hill station and rode the toy train up to the top. The refreshment seller (above) was jumping on and off the train without hesitation. The food on Indian trains is cooked fresh to order, (unlike the packaged garbage served in the US) and is hot and delicious (albeit spicy). And it prompts me to beg the question,

"What is the meaning of the word civilized?"

One for the Funny papers:

I offered to go and buy some flowers for the Kinder's Chinese New Year celebration. I took the bike and burley so as to fit the flowers in the wagon. I had to ride up on the sidewalk a little of the way because the shop is located on a busy two lane through-way. (*Bicyclists are ignored on the road and when they are noticed the drivers usually honk.) There were lots and lots of plants displayed on the sidewalk as I approached the garden nursery and an elderly, Singaporean man was also trying to walk on the sidewalk so I stopped to pull over but he stepped aside and waved me on. As I passed my wagon accidentally knocked a plant over. I stopped to right it but as I was doing so I heard the old man yell at me,

"So uncivilized!!!"
"No manners!"


I righted the plant but he continued to yell at me. So, against my better judgment I said,

"Uncivilized is when its dangerous for bicyclists to ride on the street."

He didn't stop.
"Don' know how to act!"
I think he was enjoying himself. So I laughed and yelled back at him as I rode away,

"Keep talking!!"

But he was right in a way. When confronted by "people who are like this", I don't know how to conduct myself. I should have thanked him for the practice. Heaven knows I need it!

After all this time I have discovered The Market for Artists and Designers at the Red Dot Traffic building in Singapore.

There is a monthly open market for local artists and I am planning on going to the next one February 12-13.

We have been spending some time with The Ramayana. The shadow puppet above was lent to me by my students O and S who found them in Bali, land of Rama and Sita. This one is Rama. Telling the story again reminds me that this is one tale I will NEVER stop telling/reading/living.

Perhaps we will check out the Ramayana exhibit at the Peranakan Museum before it is over next month.

I continue to work for the Waldorf Association here in Singapore, conduct workshops and help homeschool the lovely G girls. Soon however, I will be handing over things to allow for a smooth transition, at least for our long summer holiday in New England, which includes the much anticipated graduation of our nephew in Ohio and holiday in Maine.

We have rented a large cottage on the water in midcoast Maine in June and look forward to Booty's Ethiopian reunion as well as family and friends dropping by or staying for a few days.

It is wonderful to have something like this in our future!

An update for those who subscribe to the saying, "The Cure for Homesickness is the idea of home":

I had my third "preliminary" job interview early this morning and it put me in a fine mood. Because even if I don't get the job, the idea was discussed at length and put me in a homeward bound mood. That is, content that the "possibility" of going home is still very much a reality.

The next step is actually traveling home to interview in front of the teachers and students. A performance of sorts. Hence my backstage insecurities.

Why do we do it?
Why do we go through the fire and the floods when we could just as easily teach in a much less exposed way?

I think that we are not unlike actors/musicians in that it is the vulnerability that is part of the teaching. It is our very self that is left open to receive what may come. And the willingness to do this for a chance at serving is a kind of gift. Sometimes we fall on our faces and look a fool (that would be me most of the time) but then we get up and try again.

Here I go. Trying again.

Which end is up?
One of the most amazing things about animals and farm life is the opportunity to see farm animals as they really are.

Cows may seem kinda dopey but when you watch them you realize that they are working really hard to digest grass into milk. They chew and chew and chew and digest in their stomachs and you look at them and their bodies are one big giant rectangle of digestion! If only I could chew and chew on things like a cow. I think I might be a little more relaxed and balanced.

And how about chickens? The first time I fell in love with a chicken was at Hawthorn Valley Farm (a place at which I may be interviewing next month). The chicken was running and her little bottom was swaying from one side to another and it filled me with great joy. Sometimes, like in this picture, their bottoms look like their tops. I think because the egg laying (imagine what that feels like day in and out) is a big production and that area of the their body needs the space for the work. Hence the large egg boat on their underside. And was it the week of eating fresh eggs that made this month's cycle for me almost pain free for the first time in years?

It may seem silly to contemplate this is the kind of thing but why must the simple things in life be simplistic? I don't think they are.

Farmer Scott really liked to step on the gas when he gave tractor rides. And he loved to bend my ear when he got a chance about "americans". His accent was incredibly rich and he spoke so fast that when he started talking I missed about half of what he said. He and his wife were excellent hosts and gave us private cuddles with the baby ducks, which Booty loved.



This girl got wilder and bolder as the trip went on. It made us feel very good inside as it seemed that farm life really suited her. And that's the way it should be!

What is with the blackface?

On New Year's day we went to a craft market in Australia's Port Stephens area. We bought home sewn aprons and Macadamia nut butter. It was lovely.

Until we saw all the black face dolls and lawn/garden accessories. I started to look at the toys on sale and spotted a little family of four dolls who were brown and made of wood. And I thought that maybe the Aussies don't know about black face. I tried to buy the little doll set for Booty but she wanted a white plastic doll. When I refused to buy it for her she had a melt down and I heard myself say,

"I will never, never, buy you a white doll! Especially when there are sweet brown dolls!"

That night I found a blackfaced doll in the trunk of toys at the farm. It freaked me out and gave me the jitters. I woke up in the night and heard a noise. It sounded like someone trying to open the door. I woke up H and we went out into the kitchen and it turned out to be a community of rat sized cockroaches trying to find some food or maybe it was the wind banging the door. But it wasn't some kkk dude trying to take my daughter or kill us for loving her.

My husband thought I was over-reacting and said surely these dolls meant something different to Australians. So I did some research.

Check it out:

Oprah in Australia

Golliwog dolls in Australia

Wiki on blackface

And you decide.

We are back from Kookaburra Farm. And still washing the sandy, farm-handy clothes.
Today there is a breeze in Singapore and it feels so nice after the gorgeous weather in Australia.

The farm was everything we wanted and a lot of surprises. We met a couple and their lovely daughter and spent several of our days and nights with them as the girls played so well together. We were sad to say good bye to them. They live in Sydney and we don't know if we will see them again!

On vacation Booty's favorite activities were going in the hen house, picking up the baby chicks, teaching them to fly, and collecting eggs. She also enjoyed riding on Scott's tractor, milking Kaile the calf, and visiting with the ducklings. She fed cows, geese, a skittish pig, a donkey named Ernie and some very loveable goats every day for the week we were there.

If we ever have the opportunity, I would like to have goats and chickens. Sweet friendly creatures!

We found a perfect beach 10 minutes away with tidepools full of fish and snails and rocks for climbing.

At night we grilled outside on the porch while listening to Kookaburra laughter.

Advent spiral.

At 7 pm tonite all the parents from Booty's kinder filed into the school and sat on small chairs around a beautifully fern decorated spiral. One by one the children walked the spiral and lit their candles from the center candle and placed the lit ones around the edge. Booty was thrilled (she is a little bit of a show girl) and marched into the middle to light her candle atop an apple. Us parents sang some advent songs while the children lit up the room.

Lovely.

Things are moving along. And Sanbate is back to herself.
Yesterday, she sat in her room despondent and said to me, her arms outstretched,
"I need much more toys! There are not enough toys in my room!!!"

I am beginning to hear back from some schools.

Everything in motion.

Booty had a fever this morning and I called in to cancel school for both of us.
While she was playing quietly I sewed some Christmas gifts.
All of a sudden I hear her make a noise like a fake snore, very loud. I ignore it once.
Then she does it again and I turn to see that she is having a seizure.
This time no amount of cold water breaks the fit. I bring her upstairs and put her into the tub and run some cold water over her body. Finally, she starts to cry and tries to speak but it is garbled, "Mama please stop." All I could say was, "Ok but come back to mommy and daddy!"

After a few phone calls I reached Carmen, who is originally from the US. She had some children's tylenol and brings it over immediately. And our friend Birgit, who is my Kundalini yoga teacher offered to bring some homeopathic remedies for seizure and fever.

At the moment, all is calm. Please make a wish that another seizure does not come as it becomes dangerous soon after the first.

Booty's school is in session for one more week and then she is off until the 10th of January. So, we have one more week of mornings with the twins and one more Playgroup session and then the holiday and Australia.

The holiday. Sigh. Christmas. Without snow again. The tree is up. And there are some presents under it and a stocking for Booty. Still. Not quite where it is at.

Every day I check my email hoping for some news or request from the schools to whom I have sent my interest.

I am beginning to have daydreams about driving my own car and sinking my hands into clean beach sand and/or rich soil with thick tufts of grass. I know the two dreams car/earth are a bit at odds.

Dr. Lakshmi and Michael came to our house for one extremely full day yesterday and we are fairly wiped out without having done any real work. They were the ones seeing patients from beginning to end of day. Booty had children to play with all day and then her m-birdy and Lakshmi. The result of so much excitement however, has been a head cold for the little tigger girl. The heavy lidded and watery eyes say all.

My glasses broke yesterday and today we went to the mall to order a replacement. We also bought a car seat (lah!) for our trip and future needs.

Mr. D leaves tonite for India only to return on Saturday.

It is getting pretty personal around here.

I don't know what the world has in mind for us.
What I do know is that our work contract and house rental expire in May.
I do know we will not be staying in this lovely, conveniently located but overpriced condo.
I know that I don't really belong in Singapore and that I tried valiantly to belong and to offer what I have to give to those that value it.
I know some brilliant and loving people here, who have given me a great deal of support and kindness.
I realize how lucky we have been to live our life outside the safety of home and the comforts of what we know. This has been a great gift to me- exercising in me a tolerance, a new understanding of flexibility and a gratitude that previously did not seem to exist. To be able to fly to India,Bali or Australia with relative ease has also given us a richness of experience. For this we have been fortunate.

But we need to be home. We need to be able to feel free. Will we find our way to these things?

I have sent my CV to four Waldorf schools, one in each of these states (NH),(NY), (MA) and (NC).

My first choice set up a phone conference last week (at 945pm) before Thanksgiving and said they would get back to me within a few weeks.

My second choice replied with thanks that they would be responding to inquiries after December 20.

The others replied that they had received and forwarded my CV (resume) to the teacher search committee.

Mr. D has encouraged me to pursue teaching in the states with the faith that he will manage to find something within commuting distance, at least within a year or so.

It is all very strange and I begin to understand my path by watching the feelings this brings out.

Teachers who understand the layers of teaching sometimes refer to "The hidden lesson". This is the lesson that is not on display but embedded within the lesson. Most hidden lessons help students to gain access to knowledge that isn't written up in The Standards we see when assessing our own plans and accomplishments. When a science experiment explodes, or an insect is aided in her attempt to escape children witness a lesson that is theirs to experience and interpret.

Life is full of these lessons. And I believe that they are the reason we are here.

My job is to learn how to protect myself from the paralyzing feeling of anxiety- Where will we live? Will we find a home? Will I be given a class for 8 years? My job is to continue to practice the tools that help keep me whole and fulfilled enough to give to others what is needed.

It has been over a week and the funeral that has been unfolding in back of our house has finally come to an end. At first there were white awnings which covered the entire block. Chairs and tables cafe style were added with other display tables. Then they added colorful banners which stretched again for the entire block. There was a sound track or loop that played over and over, (but strangely uninterruptive and peaceful sounding). Then the last night it was loud with chanting and pot-banging music. Very exciting and even Booty commented as we watched from the second floor balcony, "Its loud momma but it sounds good!"The next day she made a special water, rock and flower pool for "the person that died".

This is definitely not for kids or those with sensitive ears but for those who want to hear the patter (slang) of the Singaporean from a "white boy" who lives in Singapore. I find this accent quite hard to do!

Our helper quit this morning without notice.
Our daughter was crying for an hour after she had only 10 minutes to process the entire thing and say goodbye.If you know a little about adoption you know that when people leave it is a big deal.

We found out an hour ago that she quit because she wanted a job in the same building as her sister. She had gone on interviews without telling us and accepted a job without our knowledge. When she quit, we asked her if she had gotten another job and she told us no.

What a relief to have her gone. I never knew, "people are like this also".
More interesting is that the American that is hiring her, heard my entire story and decided that she would hire her anyway.

Please explain. Anyone.

I must confess. These drawings draw themselves.
Last night as I was cleaning up my study for next day students this form drawing presented itself.

Window Shopping in Singapore

I am staring out the window onto rooftops
Every day the same buildings remind me I am not at home
My eyes don’t see anything but birds and night descending
But still I look outside at nothing at all.

I can hear the trucks unloading
At the bulk goods store
or dogs barking
When the expats arrive home at night

They cut down the Bamboo grove that used to sway
When the wind and rain came calling
To let us breathe for a moment with the windows open
A respite from the heat that locks us indoors

Occasionally there are parades
Or hungry ghost money burning
Once there was a march for the Buddhist temple
All the white clothed monks with white head bands
Pouring down the street toward the banging pots sound

But where is Halloween? Thanksgiving, or Christmas cheer?
Plastic decorations in store windows
Or the lights on Orchard Road?
No. I can’t find the festival feeling anywhere.
This place is only for domestic help and shopping.
My wallet is full
But there is nothing to buy here.
Nothing at all.

I have been learning a great deal from Annie Leonard and the folks at Facing the Future.

I have a curriculum guide called, "Buy, Use, Toss? A Closer Look at the Things We Buy" and it examines American consumption. It also contains every kind of link and research material one could ask for on the topic of Sustainability and Materials Consumption.

Oh, and it is free.

So I downloaded it and I am adapting it to suit my young friends and I for our science studies.

Check it out.
Facing the Future

For fun we have been trying to design a table using only recycled materials. So far, we have a table made from a box, toilet paper rolls and newspaper. NO TAPE or GLUE. But we are having a hard time keeping the legs(toilet paper rolls tightly tied with newspaper) stable in the holes we punched out of the bottom.

Still thinking about it. Any ideas?

This is the third "Angel Series" form drawing I have done.

It has three parts instead of one continuous line.

I haven't solved the weaving (over and under) problem.

But I am beginning to appreciate that the meaning of what is being expressed here, (in my unconscious?)

The green has all three thinking (upper) feeling (middle) and willing (lower) parts to its form. This is the Human.

The middle form- the orange angel- influences the feeling or heart realm and the willing.

The purple is nicely woven into the middle, feeling realm and also brings a spiritual aspect to the thinking at the top.

Crazy talk. I know. I feel like I am always apologizing for my craziness. But these forms are a kind of meditation for me. A sort of seal from the cosmos working upon me.

I have been thinking deeply about festivals and holidays. The other night I broke down while describing snow and the profound silence (almost divine) after a heavy snowfall at night in the country. This kind of silence only occurs in certain parts of the world and defines (partly) the feeling of Christmas.

The other day some parents were disparaging the boundaries around a Montessori preschool's costume parade. The school had decided there should be no tv characters, no scary costumes and no copyrighted characters ( you know like Dora, Buzz Light year...). And these parents reacted like someone had infringed upon their constitutional rights. And what they didn't understand is the effect that commercialism has and that overly mature (and scary) images have upon preschool children. (One parent even lauded the benefits that tv watching had on her child's reading skills, which educationally speaking is preposterous!)

I was really impressed that this non-Waldorf school took a stand and yet the parents didn't even want to understand why.

I really wanted to shake it down but the more I read (it was a blog post) the more I understood that parents each have their own work to do. I need to be more permissive and less aware where others have to establish more boundaries and be more conscious. My daughter is hyper aware of "doing the right thing" instead of being a 3 year old and writing on the bathroom wall with ink, (which she did last week and was promptly terrorized by my over-reaction).

We are really the same, these parents and I. Just different sides of the coin.

But back to the holiday thing.
I am so homesick for my American festivals. Easter. Summer break at the beach after a long cold winter. Fireflies. Fourth of July. Harvest festivals. Lantern walks. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Year. Valentines. Booty Day. And so on...

Tomorrow we are invited over a friend's for Deevali. This will be nice. And Booty will have friends there. It is something.

And that ain't nothin'.

Ignorance.
Is.
Getting.
Me.
Down.

I need to learn how to be inclusive and loving to people who systematically dehumanize themselves and others. I need to accept that some people aren't interested in doing their own research. And some people are

Really.
Doing.
Their best.

What appears to me as laziness and poor judgment is really just a point of view. Or unconsciousness. Hidden racism. Selfishness and lack of gratitude all of which I suffer from daily.

So.
I am going to work harder.
Listen to more Rachel Maddow (who now trumps Jon Stewart btw).
And stay positive.

When I can.

Jesus was walking and noticed a dog carcass by the side of the road and said,
"Look at the teeth on that dog! So clean and healthy!"

Civets of Siglap




Thank to Karin, our observant neighbor, we caught a glimpse of a Civet, local to our neighborhood of Siglap! These cuties are breeding successfully and live wild in our hood.
For more click here.

Thanks Karin!