C'MON BEBE!

This little bun, (I made yesterday) is coming with us to Ethiopia to meet the new one, whenever that may be, and pick up the scents of Ethiopia. We are looking forward to finishing up this homestudy update and being shipped off to the AFRICAN continent to bring home our future love.

I just had another TB test and doctor's approval. Mr. D will go next week but cannot have a TB test, (he always comes up positive) but will have to have a chest x-ray.

My friend from high school just received her referral for her little baby from China, Vivian. She will travel in 2 months.

TWO WHEELS RULE THE ROAD

Berkeley town has redesigned several of their streets to be "bicycle priority" streets. To see a short film showing this wonderful benefit to us bikers,

Click on Bicycle Boulevard.

Today we rode our bikes along the Ohlone Greenway, (bikes and peds only) underneath the BART to Berkeley and along the bicycle boulevards Virginia and Milvia. We went to Missing Link Bicycle on Shattuck ave. to have our bike tires switched because when the movers reassembled our bikes they mistakenly switched our tires.We went to a movie and ate dinner at remarkable vegan restaurant on Shattuck called Cafe Gratitude. This is what the Chicago Diner wants to be. I had the Sushi Bowl which is rice and an assortment fresh organic veggies, nori and Kim Chee. I barely let Mr. D have a bite.

ON GURU PURNIMA DAY

Someone gave Sri Sri a pink fuzzy hat and shades and he did the usual, pose like a young school girl with a flamboyant fay hand to the face. Unfortunately, I have a hard time "capturing" a photo of guruji in focus.

MY CURRENT PRACTICE is derived from the tools I have learned from Art of Living courses
I have attended over the last two years. Here they are:

Padma Sadna is a succession of yoga poses designed to allign area around spine and clear chakras.

Nari Shodana is alternate nostril breathing. I lost count of the times Sri Sri used the word nostril. (When I was young this word made me giggle. I think I have always been squeamish of other people's nostrils.)

Pranayama (breathing) in vedrasen position.

Bastrikas (more physically active breathing excersises )


Sudarshin Creeya is the landmark of the art of living part one course and the foundation of art of living meditation practice.


This past week was Guru Purnima. Celebration of the Master (Knowledge). Mr. D and I traveled to Pomona to celebrate with the Guru Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, who is the founder of Art of Living. It was held at California Polytechnical College. Pomona is east of L.A. and quite warm this time of year.



There were over 2000 people registered for courses during the week and over 3000 came for the Guru Purnima Puja and Satsang (ceremony and singing). The gym was just big enough for all of us.
During this week we attended our second Advanced Course and reviewed some mudras (hand positions) and a breathing lock (technique in holding the prana, breath, in the body for an extended period of time).



We also remained silent for three of the five days during the course. This was an amazing experience that allowed me to see how unimportant most of what I say is. And how high my tolerance level is. I have been selling myself and others short. When you can't complain whining becomes unnecessary.



Sri Sri (shown here with his incredibly contageous smile) was interviewed during the week by CNN:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p-Sstlp1u7Y



When we arrived at LAX airport for our return trip home we were in for a shock. Why was everyone so stressed out and unfriendly? Some of the airport staff were downright hostile.

We thought to ourselves, "The world really needs Art of Living everywhere."

Sounds like I am brainwashed doesn't it? But the organization isn't really about the brain at all. One of the teachers, Rakshri, said, "Art of Living is the sanitation department. It cleans you out." Sri Sri said, "Become a no mind and you can communicate with all minds."
I agree.

THE DESPERATE LIFE OF MRS. DOSHI

"Honey, do you see the face?"

"Uh, no."

"You don't see it? The triangle nose?"

"Uhmmm. Oh yeah, if I turn it upside down I see it. That little gap in the pancake is the mouth right?"

Ants, ants, ants in my pants

Ants in my pants and they're makin' me dance.

Look!

Ants, ants, ants on the wall.

Ants on the wall form a line down the hall.

Ants, ants, ants up my sleave.

Ants in my wares.! Yes, its hard to believe.

Last week I took my bike on the train into San Francisco and rode around the city. It was a gorgeous and blustery day as are all the summer days out here it seems. Dry, breezy and hot. I climbed up the hills (on the easiest gear) toward the Golden Gate Park, an amazing and superior park to most. GGP has a flower conservertory, a botanical garden, a museum, a viewing tower, a tea garden, golf, tennis, beach, windmill and a panhandle (scenic park-like bike and ped. route)heading back into the city's downtown. The park spans half the width of the city and ends at the Pacific Ocean. And although I was disoriented and disorientated, (yes, these two words have different meanings), when I disembarked from the BART Civic Center station, every San Franciscan I spoke to for directions to the park knew which way I needed to go. No, "Ya cawn't get thaya from heeya."

Married, friendless, childless, and dogless. Is there a lonelier life?

Here is to all the dogs I love and have loved:

Oh Rooty! You little!

And to think you were almost mine.

But Lil Rocker got smart and kept your sweet behind.

If you have ever moved away from a place you have called home for more than say 10 years, when you dream in your new home you dream of things long passed. It happened to me when I moved away from Chicago and it is happening now. And a question, “Will I always be leaving friends behind?”
After the passing of Amy, with whom I lost touch but admired deeply, I begin to think of all the people who were good friends to me who I don't know anymore. I decide to make a list of I miss yous. Here it is.

I MISS YOU:
Gene D.
Deb
Joan
and Mylen from the Diner

I MISS YOU:
Eric M.
Deanne
Chris
John S.
Tanara
Kate EL'I from Avanti and Northside days

I MISS YOU
Paul
Michael
Jessica and Breckon
Gina Irene
Juan and Judy
Dede and Maya
Dandara and BJ from Logan Square days

I MISS YOU:
Russel
Arthur
Katie and yes Terry
Michael C.
David K.
Chris W.
Bliss from Sheffield and Leona days

I MISS YOU:
John H.
Jason
Georgia
Spencer
Eileen
Heather M.
Brigit M.
Walt S.
Delia M.
Peter S.
Joe H.
Andy L.
I ALSO MISS YOU CHICAGO
AND DON'T WANT TO FORGET.

Cheat You Fair
by Sam, a sock vendor
On Maxwell Street

They cheat you fair.
It's a game.
You had a chance.
Elsewhere,
they cheat you unfair.
No chance:
Pograms,
Cossacks,
The Czar,
Jim Crow,
KKK,
Sharecropping,
The company store.
On Maxwell Street
You understood:
A pitch,
A shpiel,
A rap,
A line.
It was joyous.
Blues humming.
Face-to-face.
You knew
People cared.
It was bazaar.
Don't let it die.

I worked with Amy 20 years ago at a popular italian restaurant in Chicago. She was also a friend during those years before she married and I left the city.

She had a wonderful economy with words and in her life. She made everything she designed feminine but very practical and comfortable.

The last time I saw Amy was when her daughter was about 3 at Navy Pier. Both of them were wearing dresses Amy had designed and looked gorgeous. That was about 11 years ago.

A good musician friend of mine told me about Amy this morning and he himself only found out because he was looking for information about her clothing designs. Amy's husband Jack introduced this friend and I at a Halloween party we had in Roscoe village. I remember her husband calling me to tell me he had fallen in love with a friend of mine and when he told me it was Amy I was surprised and pleased at once.

Amy Rigg was a peach. xoxoxoxox on your journey

Please don't be offended good quilters but I am afraid I have in my possession the most beautiful quilt ever made. It would be a mistake for you to think you would one day make such a quilt but I am here to say it has already been done by Alewife McKey.

That baby has already developed a trait to share with Mr. D and that is tardiness. This superb quilt and I have been waiting for to embrace the young Doshi!

THAT GLEAM

She dreamed to one day be a mother and part of a family.
Like many people she dreamed only not realizing.
Dreaming of taking baby in the stroller
to a place where other babies were playing, some happy, some sad
and some angry.
If an angry baby hit her baby, she would not chide the other baby but console only.

She dreamed like other people dream of becoming a doctor or musician.
She dreamed like others who want to travel.
Somewhere in their hearts they must go.
She dreamed to be alive like one sick who longs to be well again.

To be alive.
Is a fair request.
To eat and taste.
To kiss and feel.
To laugh and not worry.
She dreamed of the gleam of recognition from a waking baby.
Pure joy.
“Mama!”

You know why cartoons are so effective? Because they are NOT high tech. This cartoon is NOT high tech. It probably isn't even a cartoon. It is a diagram that shows a basic communication flaw in the human "me" species. I felt qualified to draw this diagram because I carry traits of the human "me"species and wanted to share.

There is a much funnier non-tech diagram in a website for a book promotion I also wanted to share. It is for Miranda July's book NO ONE BELONGS HERE MORE THAN YOU, which I have not read. But I did see her movie, You Me and Everyone We Know and if the book is as clever as the website it is sure to be a winner.

http://noonebelongsheremorethanyou.com/

Last week end was a percussive one. On Friday we spontaneously drove to Ashkenaz http://ashkenaz.com/index.htm to hear a Beat Box performance called The Vowel Movement. The venue is real down home and made me feel like I was back in Chicago at a performance space on Grand avenue. The cover charge was reasonable and the performance was very full, that is they offered a lot of bang for buck. We left before the show ended as we are middle aged and have sensitive ears we would like to keep for a while.

On Sunday we drove to Oakland to the world renown Yoshi's http://www.yoshis.com/jazzclub to see Poncho Sanchez, the latin percussionist. I loved the show. Really. It was too short was all. I wanted to dig the band and goove all night with that Cuban sound!

However, Yoshi's has a strange way of making its devotees work for their seats. Mr. D's colleague, a Yoshi fan, came to our house with his family at 4pm and promptly left with Mr. D to "reserve seats". Tickets had already been purchased days before. The doors at the club open at 5 so they waited in line for an hour to rush into the club and reserve seven seats at one of the front tables. They returned to our house to eat and then we all made for the club. Some people actually eat at Yoshi's restaurant which from what I am told has improved but is a little pricey. If you don't get in line early to save your seats you may not find enough seats together for your party and you definitely won't be up front or in one of the treasured booths. The club is intimate though and we couldn't have had a better time. Well, I couldn't have, but I didn't wait in line for an hour.

"PONCHO SANCHEZ celebrates his 20th year as a bandleader with his 20th release, Soul Of The Conga (CCD-4894). The veteran conguero's 18th recording for the Concord Picante label features the very popular performer in several different settings and the result is a fast-moving but logical set of 14 highly enjoyable and rhythmically infectious numbers.

Poncho Sanchez has long qualified as one of the hardest-working men in Latin jazz. Born in Laredo, Texas as the youngest of 11 children, he grew up in Norwalk, California (where he still lives) and remembers hearing Afro-Cuban music while growing up. "As a kid in third or fourth grade, I would hear my sisters dancing while listening to Machito, Tito Puente, Cal Tjader and various bands from Cuba while my brothers listened to doo-wop music and early rhythm and blues." While in sixth grade, Sanchez bought a fifty- cent guitar in hopes of joining an r&b band that rehearsed across the street from his home. Although he practiced quite a bit, when he showed up for an audition, he knew immediately that he did not stand a chance. "But it turned out that they needed a singer and, although I had never sung, I gave it a try and became the lead vocalist in that band for five years. Then when I was in high school, the first chance I had to get behind a set of conga drums, I hit them and it felt quite natural." Soon Sanchez had saved up money from his singing jobs and was practicing congas as much as possible in his garage, playing to Machito, Tito Puente and Cal Tjader records.

Sanchez's big break occurred in 1975 when, after a period of struggle, he had an opportunity to play with his idol, vibraphonist Cal Tjader. "I found out later that Cal's conga player was planning on leaving soon and he was letting a lot of people sit in with him. I played one number with Cal, he asked if I could play the rest of the set with him and a week later he asked if I could join him for a week, starting New Year's Eve at the Coconut Grove opposite Carmen McRae!" Sanchez would be a major part of Tjader's band for the next seven years, an association that lasted until the vibraphonist's death." http://www.drummerworld.com/drummers/Poncho_Sanchez.html

The El Cerrito Theater! An authentic old theater not some mock up from the golden days of prohibition!And it may become an historic, (I can't stand writing “an” instead of “a”, and still don't understand the rule! Silent h my hand!!) landmark in El Cerrito. Any way it is a nice theater that has lounge style seating like in India and you can order food or beverages to be delivered pendant le film. Check it out! And we don't know how they will stay in business as there were only 9 people sitting with us watching the most excellent THE NAMESAKE on a sunny Sunday afternoon. On Tuesdays they have what is called the “baby brigade”. You are invited to the theater with your under one year old child to watch a movie. If your child cries, join the party. I am not sure how much fun it is but maybe someday soon I will find out.

It wasn't so bad I guess, although we left after the 6th inning. And didn't even check the score when we got home. I guess baseball isn't for everyone. But our seats were fabulous- Lower Box 19th row. The food, (garlic fries) and drink, (margarita) really hit the spot. And the Giants' stadium, which has changed its name several times along with the change of sponsor, is topnotch. I think the real reason we left was because it was cold (52 degrees) and we each only had on a light layer of clothing on top. San Francisco is 10 degrees colder than Richmond. It was difficult focusing on the game because of all the things to distract you, (the huge screens, commercials, guy yelling, “PEANUTS” which sounded like something else, giant baseball mitt and giant coke bottle which was interactive with the game). Barry Bonds got cheered many times which was embarrassing. Also the booing for the other team, The Padres, was in poor taste. But as I said baseball isn't for everyone. Nor is professional sports. I suppose pro sports today is not really about grace, honor, and skill. But everyone knows that and still they go along. I guess they are waiting for those rare moments when someone does something magical. Catch an impossible fly ball or hit a soaring home run. I think what is really missing is the team spirit. And that includes everywhere even in the fine and performing arts.

Speaking of ants. We sure have some. I even had some in my pants. It is very disconcerting. And although they aren't the biting kind I don't like having them crawl up my arm while I am cooking or typing on the computer. What do they want? Our garden is filled with them and from what I read it is a good thing to have ants in your garden because they eat fungus and do housekeeping. But with the amount of cat fur and dust I sweep up in the house it seems they aren't doing their job. Just making me jumpy and itchy.

SUMMER FRUIT

Yesterday I spent several hours refiling paperwork for our adoption. Most of the paperwork that was filed in Massachusetts has to be refiled because our residency has changed. And while this certainly seems to be an example of the fallibility of the system, (we have to pay twice too), we are calm reasonable people. Yes. And we will do as advised.

Our backyard is filled with fruit trees. We have pears, plums, figs and our neighbor's nectarine tree has branches in our yard as well. This ripening summer fruit sometimes reminds me of the way pregnancy transforms a woman's body. I imagine the aches and pains of longing and letting go that I would miss if the adoption process was efficient, as I imagine someday it will be. Those poor women will only have to wait a few days and BAM! They will be mothers, without all the crazy "I will never be a mom" fears haunting them or the rejected applications due to beaurocratic errors of "Gilliamesque" proportions (see movie "BRAZIL").

That will be some sad day huh?

My sisters are now fulfilling their duties as official handholders during this strange jobless, childless time for me. I was on the phone for one hour with my younger sister and three hours with my older sister yesterday. To observe me sitting in the sun or leisurely preparing food and chatting with my sisters while drinking a glass of wine one would be given the impression of priviledge and ease. But I keep thinking, "What happens when you find yourself in heaven but you are alone?"

The movie THE NAMESAKE has finally arrived in our neighborhood cinema. Mr. D and I will have the opportunity to see it on the big screen.

A stunning Japanese Maple Bonsai arrived yesterday from Shambhala, our first plant in the NEW WORLD.

I have registered my car and applied for a CA driver's license. I am now officially a California resident. I even registered to vote, tho' my vote is no more useful now as before when I was a Massachusetts voter.

My car passed the smog test (which is required to register your car and costs about $60) but it is easy to pass this test in CA because if you have a 4wd vehicle your car isn't able to take the entire test, (the test is designed for cars). Putting the plates on, or rather taking my Mass. plates off was a different story. I imagine our elderly neighbor Xerxes, who just had knee replacement surgery and is recovering at home, was thinking, "How many tools does this girl need to take off those pesky plates?" I ultimately needed to use mineral oil for wood to loosen the last screw as I could not find the wd40.

The written license test is hard! It is a 36 question test with multiple choice questions like:

A peace officer is signalling you to drive to the edgeof the roadway. You decide to ignore the officer's warning and flee the scene. You are guilty of a misdemeanor and can be punished by being:

a) Fined up to $1000
b) Jailed in the county jail for not more than 1 year
c) Given a warning and a citation

I got it (and 6 others) wrong! And to pass you have to make 6 or fewer errors. The testing dude, marked only 6 wrong. He cut me some slack. Maybe it was dumb blond sympathy. Maybe dumb new englander sympathy. Maybe my gujurati last name. Who knows. He may have miscounted. Why do I need to know? Control issues. CONTROL!

Now we must return our Massachusetts plates. Or be charged taxes and find out a few years down the road when the state catches up to us, what we owe.

Now I don't want to end this on a sour note as this whole transition from new england to "Otra Costa" has been strange and unnerving so I will tell you it is sunny here and 65 degrees. All is well.

Now I know what REAL garbage is.This month in California the town sanitation department teaches me the meaning of recycling.Everything. No backsliding. Because if you do there won't be room in your garbage container for real garbage and you will have to hold onto it for another week. Recycling items can wait a week if necessary but because these garbage containers are smaller than those out east AND because you only get one (unless you want to pay for a larger one), you have got to be sure it is GARBAGE. Spouses from third world countries may take longer to learn the significance of this and if so, take responsibility! They may be off working for the MAN while you put the box cutter to work. My friend from New York and I marvelled at the garbage and recycling trucks as their automated arms reached down to grab the containers and empty them into the correct receptacle. No cussing garbage collectors throwing your cans and lids down the street.This is California. dude.

Since I have been doing nothing but unpacking these last few days the daily walk has felt more urgent. Our walks to Point Isabel have been a nice way of settling in and beginning to identify with our 'hood . It is just a mile away.

Tomorrow I am going to try to get a california license and register my car,

and unpack.