An Ounce of Prevention

I bought these cute water bottles for the girls at Uwajimaya today in an attempt to offset the spillage that occurs in our home, our car, our bed, on my clothing, in my shoes...you get the idea. We've recycled Emma's toddler bottles so now they're Phoebe's, which may be the flaw right there. I would love to get feedback from other Moms on how NOT to cry over spilled milk because for the life of me I can't seem to get rid of the smell or the stains milk leaves behind.

Anyway, back to the water bottles.

I thought, with the retractable straw, the liquid would be more easily contained than a regular sippy or bottle. Turns out a determined toddler will shake and twist the liquid out of anything. Not a minute after I filled Phee's bottle with water and sat her down at the table did she have the thing upside down, shaking it while squeezing the straw so more would come out. This would have been less damaging to me and the wood table and floor if I, lost in confidence that this would work, had not turned around and gone back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.

All in all, no real damage has come of the spilled liquids. You just get that with kids. But I still can't get the smell of spoiled milk out of my nose.

p.s. The purple one is Pochacco (for Phoebe, natch, the dog lover) and the Hello Kitty is for Emma.

Cool It

Just wanted to post a picture of Emma and Phoebe keeping cool. It makes me feel less sticky. Just the tiniest bit.

Slurpees, Part II

Emma is at a musical theater camp this week and next. As many dancers know, a dance studio can be excruciating in the summer--the sweaty bodies emitting heat that lingers, fogs mirrors and stinks up the room. Yesterday Em asked for a Slurpee, which, after her cajoling, we found across the street from the dance studio at the 7-11. I sort of regretted it later because she had eaten only the sweet treats in her lunch while her luncheon meat and cheese combo went bad and stinky in her lunchbox (which she also left in the living room, half tucked under the couch). 

Today I didn't even ask if she'd finished her healthy food first; I asked her how her day was and we marched straight across the blistering pavement to the 7-11. And I bought another one for Phoebe and I to share when we got her, too. According to Yahoo, it was 102 degrees in Seattle when I picked up Phoebe at her daycare around 4:30 p.m. The weather report on my iPhone (provided by Yahoo) says it is now 103 degrees. It's 5:37. 

I'm lucky we have a great basement to hang out in and keep cool. But I'm really not used to this here in Seattle. How are you all doing? What have you done to comfort yourself during our heat wave? (Me: Iced Mocha from the Firehouse in Ballard, Slurpee, basement, watching old "Lost" episodes online)

Tybecast

No, that's not a typo above. Actually, it is, but not because I don't know my right pinkie finger from by left pointer.

Last night I took my first class in Letterpress, an extremely intricate art form that I've long admired. The teacher, Lisa Hasegawa, gave us a ton of information and led us through "setting the type" for the first time in the course. We were to choose a type case that did not have a label and make one. As you might guess from the picture above and my type-oh-oh, I had '18 pt. Garamond Light.'

I was worried about placing the letters in reverse order before I got to class, but Lisa explained how the type has little cuts in it to help us. All the cuts go on the top. No sweat, I did that. But I didn't realize that there were b's in the d tray, and lo, there's my 'Garamonb.'

My mistake aside, I really enjoyed the class. It's been a long time since I learned something completely and utterly new, and I forgot how difficult that is. And how much I've craved it. We set type, saw how Lisa locked it down, then inked and ran the press. The word 'impression' has a new dimension for me now, as I run my fingers along the card with our printed type.

Next week we'll start designing our project. I've started collected ideas for what to print-it's so exciting!

You can see more about Lisa and her work here.

Hot Hot Heat

I've always said summer is the best kept secret about Seattle. Sunny but not too hot, blazing sunsets and cool evenings. But this year spring came on strong (30+ days without precipitation in April/May) and now we're experiencing an incredible heat wave. Living in California, 90-100 degree weather was more common, but Seattle rarely sees the mercury climb above 90 and here we are, having a week of it. Today and tomorrow have the highest forecast numbers at 95 degrees.

Our garden is wilting, our grass completely brown. We spend the afternoons in the cool comfort of our basement. And after a couple of appointments today, that is where you'll find me as I continue to get "the green room" into shape.

A Pressing Matter

(image from http://sourcedesign.com/)

After we returned from the Knight Fellowship reunion, I had some nervous energy.

I thought about getting a tattoo, learning to play the drums, taking writing classes. I immediately went online to figure out what interesting hobby I could take up. As I surfed around, I realized what had happened: I was back to real life.

Exposed again to the grandeur of the Stanford campus, talking to fellow Fellows, catching up with old friends, expanding my online social network, listening to professors profess and educators educate, I was mentally and emotionally stimulated. Coming home, as wonderful as it was, became a bit of a letdown. I think I was a little bored.

I've wanted to take a Letterpress class for some time. As fate would have it, a class started in just two weeks at Pratt Fine Arts Center. I didn't even think twice-I just booked it.

The class runs for five weeks. The School of Visual Concepts, where I took a Photoshop class last year, offers a 10 week class, but I decided to start easy. My first class is tomorrow night and I'm exhilarated. A bit excited, a bit nervous, but happy to start feeding my brain in a new way. Will I be the oldest person there? Will I fail to place the letters backwards? Can I get some extra studio practice? I'm all a-tingle thinking about this new adventure, this new pathway I'm laying in my brain.

Press on!

Now serving # 565

565 was my number at the pharmacy today. I went to the doctor for a physical, towing both of my kids. I knew it would be awkward, but my physician is so great (and a mother of three herself), she suggested to my older daughter (who is eight) that Mommy might need privacy and would she mind waiting just outside the door with her book? My one-year-old stayed in the exam room, which was fine, but the experience convinced me I have to start a list of things I've done while my kid is in my lap. I thought getting my bangs trimmed with her in my lap was odd, but you really haven't experienced odd until you are lying on an examination table getting a pelvic exam while your toddler is squirming in your arms, scribbling with a pen and pad of paper.

That strangeness aside, I was unprepared to have my private-and-very-female-prescriptions filled by a cute, young - male - pharmacist.

I have been married 13 years. I have two kids. Being somewhat secure in my marriage, I don't go around flirting with other men. But, I would like to be seen as somewhat attractive to members of the opposite sex. This does not usually entail having one of them talk to me about spermicidal jelly applicators or how to use my diaphragm. These situations call for the Mr. Gower type in "It's a Wonderful Life" or Tina Fey as your tough but understanding teacher type from "Mean Girls." It was hard enough to ask my eight-year-old to leave the room so I could talk to my doctor about birth control, but to have some cute, funny 30-something pharmacist explain the effects of my Estrogen creme, well, I have to admit I was unprepared for this milestone in my life.

Welcome to the other side of 35, Kale.

Click on It

An unexpected yet interesting portion of the Knight reunion was meeting a couple of Fellows who were yet to go through the fellowship year. One of them, Krissy Clark, talked to the group about her upcoming project regarding "geomapping." It's basically linking information about places so you can get not only the factual information about a locale, but personal histories and insights as well. I love the idea of tying in the emotional and human ties to a place; usually we're so caught up in the statistics that we forget a place has a life partly because of the lives around it.

The concept reminded me of a reading I heard by Jorie Graham where she discussed her obsession with imagining a literal timeline of a place. That when she sits in one given spot, she tries to imagine what happened in that exact spot five minutes ago. Or five years, or 50 years, or 500 years or even 5,000 years ago. As I sit on my couch writing this I think about gold miners and loggers, Native Americans, Spaniards and even bears and salmon that may have existed in this very spot. Journalists are very concerned with storytelling. The milestones of our lives are often richer stories because of the unusual links we attach to them. I like thinking about those attachments through voice or time. I like thinking that a journalist would remember this, too.

Good luck, Krissy-I'm excited to see how your project rounds out!

What's Behind Door #3?

The second day of reunion sessions was informational yet surprisingly fun and amusing. Luis Fraga, a former professor at Stanford who now works at the University of Washington, spoke on race relations-specifically about our country's readiness for candidates like Barack Obama and Sonia Sotomayor. In addition to his position as a political science professor, he is also Director of the Diversity Research Institute on campus.

Some of the assertions he made based on his extensive research was unnerving, such as slavery's importance to the way our nation is shaped today. (Probably true, but our presuppositions about even talking about slavery in other terms besides 'horrific' and 'wrong' are difficult to wade through) His candidness paired with a lively sense of humor made the presentation fascinating yet easy to stick to. A Powerpoint presentation can be stimulating (though some people may doubt that) and Fraga's ability to engage with the audience on a tough topic helped move his visuals along nicely. He is intelligent, charming and definitely someone we need right now. The race issue is so huge, so intimidating, so powerful--I'm glad to have someone of his abilities on the front lines to help us make sense of it all.

The second presentation was given by Baba Shiv, a professor with the Graduate School of Business. His talk, entitled, "The Frinky Science of the Human Mind" delved into how emotions influence our decision making. Most of us came away from his discussion with this in mind: Arranged marriage is the way to go.

Shiv has done research on "simultaneous" decision-making vs. "sequential" decision-making. And guess what? Turn out that more people were satisfied with their choice when they had all of the options in front of them, decided and moved on with their lives. So, if you have three potential mates, for example, you'd be better off choosing one of them, marrying them and moving on to whatever else you need to decide upon, like paint colors for your newly shared apartment. But those people who date one person at a time are more likely to have unresolved issues with their choice-perhaps thinking that the next candidate will be better.

Unfortunately for most of us, we tend to engage with potential significant others on a one-to-one basis. We date one person, that works or doesn't, and we go on to date another person. Maybe our ancestors had the right idea. The yenta, the matchmaker. And now the girlfriend who hosts the cast-off party or even speed dating--maybe we should decide on our life partner the same way we would the fish at the fish market: Line 'em all up and see which one is the least stinky.

But for me, what's at the crux of all this is the choosing part. It's interesting to think about the energy we put into our choices, from a potential partner to a pair of pants. I think of the line from "Soak Up the Sun" by Sheryl Crow, "It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got." And if my life partner is reading this somewhere, don't worry--after all these years, I still want and choose you. :)

Rodin and the '78s

Friday evening's reception took place at the Rodin Sculpture Garden at the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford. Among the sculptures displayed are The Three Shades, Adam, Eve and The Gates of Hell.

During our fellowship year we spent a lot time in the sculpture garden. Granted, lots of people spend time in front of The Gates of Hell pondering each small figure and what they represent. Others run to the library to grab Dante's Inferno. For me, it was the idea that world-renowned artworks could be present on a college campus. My college, UC Davis, had artwork, but I do not recall a Rodin on premises. Let alone an entire sculpture garden's worth.

In this gorgeous setting I gave Doug and myself a task: To meet Fellows we weren't acquainted with from other years. We were so pleased to be with our fellow Fellows that we'd ignored the other fantastic people gathered for the reunion. So we turned to a few older Fellows and chatted them up, discovering they were at Stanford in 1978. The only four people to attend from their year, they were lively, fun and engaging. One of them had a son who would be going to seminary school in Seattle, so he had a lot of questions for us about the area, which led to questions about faith and you can probably guess there was no lull in the conversation after that. The experience reinforced for us how special the Knight Fellowship year is-and how long those memories last.

A side note about the evening: Our dinner was catered by CoolEatz, the brainchild of Jesse Cool. As a group, our fellowship class toured her home and organic garden while she talked with us about her mission (Fresh, organically raised foods; compostable take-away containers and eating utensils; her water-saving toilets). Doug, Justine and I ate dinner at her Flea St. Cafe, which was amazing, though I could not tell you what we ate. This time our dinner consisted of a crazy-delicious cold pea soup with mint and herb-crusted halibut. I know there was a dessert, but I can't remember what it was. I could have eaten three more bowls of that soup.

Tweet me? Tweet you!

I walked into the first session, "The Future of Journalism: Where We've Been, Where We're Going," about 20 minutes late. Leonard Downie, VP At Large with The Washington Post, was at the podium presenting.

It felt a lot like a laundry list of options for how papers could make it given the economy and transition journalism is going through. He talked about non-profit and low-profit possibilities. He talked about a lot of other stuff I'm sure, but I was distracted by the fact that he read from his printed speech at the podium. I wanted to be more involved with him and his presentation, but I could not see his entire face, as it was tilted downward toward his paper.

I decided to check in with technology. There had been a social networking session the previous day for pre-registrants who wanted info on Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn (Justine and Patricia had attended) and I wanted to see if anyone was posting. Turns out a couple of people were! I'd read postings "covering" events via Twitter, but I'd never been at the event being covered. It was a little surreal to hear the speaker then watch tweet post referring to the speaker by his @name. The '@' will be the new quotation mark. So bizarre.

After 'following' the other tweeters and looking up their professional info, it felt strange to connect with a journalist this way. We read stories, make connections to reporters through their bylines or columns and get a sense of their voices over time. 140 characters or less (usually with the speaker's @name and #hashmarks added so that means way less than 140 characters) doesn't give you a lot of time to hear the voice of the reporter. For one guy posting, he didn't even have his news organization posted on his profile. It really felt removed from journalism, and there are those who would argue for and against the idea that tweets are journalism, but I could appreciate that I was a member of an audience and through Twitter I could communicate with another member about what we're listening to in real time. In a minute or two I could post a comment about what was just said. Those in the room of 100-150 people who were following me via laptop or cellphone could get that comment, then turn around and respond, argue, refer or agree (and ReTweet!) with me. It was almost as good as leaning to my friend to whisper some comment, but this time I whispering it to the audience-and beyond.

Another perk to adding these communication tools to the sessions was connecting socially with other posters. I made professional connections online, then face-to-face connections when I sought them out afterwards. See that, journalism? We're transitioning, and it's not all bad.

Taxi!

Getting to the first session was a bit complicated. The Fellowship office arranged for Stanford shuttle buses (the Marguerite) to take us from the hotel to campus with additional routes for parents taking their kids to the daycare facilities. Because I have two kids with a large age gap between them I had to go to two different areas-one for Emma at the bigger kids' Sports Camp at the Old Union and another for younger kids like Phoebe, who was at the graduate school childcare facility. Doug hooked up with some Fellows for golf that morning, so here I was, Mother Hubbard, schlepping my backpack, Phee's diaper bag, Emma's bag with her swimsuit, etc., onto the shuttle.

Clifford, our shuttle driver, was just lovely. And Amy, an administrative assistant in the Fellowship office, was also on hand to help out. We went with the other families to the big kid site, got out to sign Emma in, got back on the shuttle, drove to Phoebe's daycare, got out to sign her in and get her acquainted with the caregivers, got back on the shuttle and finally drove to the auditorium where the first session was being held. It felt a little like my regular life, getting kids ready and taxi-ing them all over town, but at least I didn't have to drive.

I didn't really mind doing all of this alone since there wasn't much pressure to be on time, but it would have been great to have the girls at the same location. I missed Doug, too, but chatting with Clifford and Amy helped make it fun. Having built-in childcare for an event isn't the norm, so I wasn't about to complain since the Fellowship was taking care of families. All in all, Emma was happy to make friends with the other kids while playing sports and Phoebe seemed to enjoy the crafts her caregivers helped her make.

Reunited And It Feels So Good

As we drove around Palo Alto, I asked Emma if she remembered any of what we were seeing. She didn't but promised to let us know when she recognized something. Turning onto Palm Drive she exclaimed with excitement from the back seat, "Mom!! I remember this!" Her little voice sounded out exactly what Doug and I were feeling: Everything took us back to our time here, to our dynamic experience at Stanford.

Our first event of the Knight Fellowships Reunion was a reception and dinner at the Old Union on the Stanford campus. The Union was under construction during our fellowship year, so it was fun to see the completed courtyard, complete with fountain.

Not only did we get to see fellow Fellows from our year (about 12 of us), but fellows from other years that we knew from Seattle. The sun was shining, the kids could run around and Doug and I got to reconnect with kindred spirits.

Past Deadline

I'm actually a little behind on posting. It gets to be like a bad diary where the events are all out of order and the reader has no idea who did what when or where. I'm pretty linear, so this bugs me to no end.

Doug and the girls came in on Wednesday evening! Although I enjoyed my solo journey, I was tickled to see the three of them waiting for me on the arrivals curb at SFO. Poor Doug seemed squeezed out like a damp rag, Phoebe was clingy and upset, but Emma was a happy camper.

We drove to the Hilton San Francisco, where we would stay a night before heading to the Knight Fellowship Reunion. The hotel was pretty packed with folks bearing conference tags with NAMI on them--the National Association for Mental Illness. Not exactly what I wanted to think about after just arriving with my small children, but hopefully the gathering was geared toward aiding those with mental illness instead of those who are mentally ill gathering in one place.

I was still enamored with Valencia Street, so I convinced Doug to drive down Valencia on our way to Palo Alto for the Knight Fellowship reunion in Palo Alto. We stopped at 826 Valencia, a non-profit center devoted to promoting literacy. Created by hipster author/editor, Dave Eggers and educator Nineve Calegari, there are six other "826" hubs in various cities.

Each station has a fun theme. 826 Valencia is a Pirate Supply! Em and I spent a lot of time in there reading the cool signage and knick-knacks on display. She even got to hunt for a jewel in a sand bin, which she had to "barter" for. She could tell a joke, sing a song or draw a picture. This is the joke she chose to tell: "What's brown and sticky?"

"A stick."

Here are a few pictures from our visit:

I love having a fun place in which to engage kids. Emma's class went to the 826 in Seattle , but unfortunately Emma was sick that day so we weren't able to go. We decided we definitely needed to visit our local shop when we got back.

Dog Eared Window

During our walk on Valencia, we passed Dog Eared Books, a bookstore with amazing window decorations. On one side there was a beautiful floral/paisley design in day-glo pen paints and on the other was a large window full of individual line drawings of famous people. I didn't read all of the pictures, but from the ones I caught, I'm assuming all of them were dead.

As you can see above, the pictures are fantastic, and especially touching when you read the information printed about them. I was riveted by the idea of paying homage to favorite entertainers in a more accessible way. Here at eye level were lovely sketches, some interesting tidbits about the subjects or about how they were viewed by the public and they were done on large white index cards with pen. They were so simple, so deliciously candid. I absolutely loved that they were in the window of a bookstore. Kudos to Veronica DeJesus, the artist, and to Dog Eared for posting them.

Oh, Valenciiiiiaaaaa....

I thought a lot about that Decemberists' song while strolling down Valencia Street with Patricia. I was on the hunt for The Curiosity Shoppe, a cool store I'd read about on Design*Sponge. The owners contribute regularly to Design*Sponge's DIY page. After reading their blog I've become a huge fan. Since Justine's place is nearby, I had a chance to see the store in the flesh.

The shop is small, but full of fun and funky treasures, like a small taco-shaped bag (painted and designed like a taco with shredded lettuce and meat), a bird and cage stamp set, colorfully painted vintage telephones and plates decorated with hotplate coils. I loved seeing the shop and chatting with Derek, whose other half, Lauren, is also the other half of the Shoppe team.

There are a ton of great-looking shops and eateries on Valencia, and I regret that we couldn't see more of them. Every time I come to the City there are new places to see and experience-I'm glad to have had the chance to catch some of it while I could.

Chinatown

This morning Justine, Patricia and I went to Chinatown for dim sum and foot massages. We hit City View right before they opened and sat eating well into the lunch hour. They have a wide variety of choices, all tasty. Afterward we walked up the street to this foot massage place Justine wanted to take us to.

After deciding on the hour-long session, we sat in recliners where the masseuses (masseurs? massagers?) brought plastic tubs filled with hot water and herbs to soak our feet. I did think it was funny that they lined the tubs with plastic bags, so instead of feeling the bumps at the bottom of the tubs for an additional massage effect, all I did was move the plastic bag around.

We soaked, then a masseuse started in on our feet. At times the pressure was uncomfortable, but eventually relaxing. I had the only male masseuse (the large room had about seven chairs, six of which were full), who was a bit goofy, but cute and smiled a lot. I tried to breathe deeply and relax as much as possible. I loved the cacophony of sounds that bounced around the room as the masseuses worked - slap! slap! slap! slap!

As we walked out, the soles of my feet continued to tingle!

I'll Be There pt. II

This is Katie with her son, Lennon. This photo really captured the feeling of the day for me-lovely light, a comfortable space, lots of growing plants and happy kids. I love watching Katie with her children. She is patient, easing them through the transitions of their day with kindness. I am a very different type of person-and mother. The transitions in my house are usually very loud, with shouted warnings, threats and deep exhalations. Being around them made me feel inspired to fill my time instead of race to catch up with it.

Katie and I talked at length about where we are right now and in which directions we'd like to move. It felt so good to share the apprehensions a parent can feel about their lives and how that may or may not effect their children. And even better to talk with someone I trust and care for deeply.

Thanks for the wonderful day, Katie...you and your beautiful family are never far from my mind.

I'll Be There

Today is the day of Michael Jackson's memorial service in LA. It still feels unreal to think about his passing and I have not kept up with the arrangements or hoopla around it. Justine and I joked about driving down to LA for the service, but instead I decided to visit a cherished friend of mine, who shares many MJ memories with me.

I've known Katie since the fifth grade, when we met at Walnut Acres Elementary in Walnut Creek, CA. The night MTV debuted Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video (every hour, on the hour), we were at a sleepover, glued to the TV to catch this history-making "mini-movie." I remember how we'd all sit there, watching the video, then play games or eat pizza in the intervals between the next hour's showing. Then there was the scramble when the first few notes could be heard and we'd watch it again, trying to catch all of the dance moves.

We were good friends throughout elementary and middle school, becoming even closer when we took dance together in high school. It was a huge thrill when one of the older high school dancers invited Katie and me to be in a dance she choreographed set to "Smooth Criminal." Playing the song for my daughter last week while revisiting MJ's song catalog, I remembered part of that dance and decided I needed to make time in this trip to see Katie.

When I arrived at her house the door was open and small, joyful voices beckoned me inside. We spent the morning catching up and chatting with her two children. Being with her felt as comfortable as a long nap in the sun. Katie's home is bright and filled with art, much of it hers. She and her family have been working on a kitchen redecorating project where they are adding poems, quotes and pictures to their walls and cabinets. Their cabinets are pictured above.

Look-Missing Snake

Walked around with Justine today. It was sunny, but breezy, and I enjoyed getting my blood pumping with the wind blowing by. We got some gelato at this cool chocolatier place, grabbed a chai and browsed some. I loved Just Awesome, a game shop that recently opened up. I got Bananagrams for Justine, Patricia and me to play.

I was a bit disturbed to see a "Missing Snake" sign posted. If you found a snake at 27th and Sanchez, would you take the time to see if it had these corresponding marks in order to return it to its owner? No. I would freak out, scream, grab something big to hit it with and then call the cops. Welcome to San Francisco.

Later on we went to Happy Hour at The Front Porch, sitting in rocking chairs eating fried okra and plantains and drinking sangria. That turned into a yummy dinner of fried chicken with garlic mashed potatoes for me and a black cod po' boy sandwich for Justine. A well-rounded first evening in SF!

In-Flight Entertainment

I flew to San Francisco on Virgin Airlines, which I was anxious to experience because of its "glam" factor. The individualized video monitors and in-air wi-fi were enticing as well. As I walked onto the plane from the jetway I noticed that the white paint on the airplane had glitter in it. Glittery shiny paint on an airplane? That was too much.

The video monitors were pretty cool. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to use my own headphones with them since I saw there was a headphone kiosk at the check-in desk ("Put in two bucks, take out a set of headphones"), but my headphones fit fine and I settled in to check out the touchscreen menu.

They had video games, movies, radio stations, music videos, even a way to chat online or with other people on the plane! Inside the armrest lay a remote/game control. Yeah, this was pretty cool.

I played a game for a while, then decided to hit the wi-fi. Instead of lugging out my laptop, I thought I'd use my iPhone to send a tweet. D'oh! Turns out you have to pay for the in-air wi-fi. $7.95 for a one-time fee. This was just a 1.5 hour flight, so I focused on the movies. If I were alone at home watching a movie on TV, it would be a romantic comedy, so why not in the air? Even though I knew I wouldn't see the entire movie, I fired up "He's Just Not That Into You" on the screen and settled in. Maybe my kids would be so into movies or games that I'd be able to watch the rest of it on the return trip home.

Pack Animal

I arrived in San Francisco today from Seattle. I've left my husband and two children behind to join friends for some female bonding time before an event at Stanford University. In 2006 my husband, older daughter and I were here for a Knight Fellowship he received, and this year the fellowship is holding a reunion for former fellows. We are happy to see our classmates again and connect with other fellows. And since I was pregnant when we left Palo Alto, it will be a chance to introduce old friends to the newest member of our family. I feel so fortunate to have a couple of days to spend with two Fellow friends, Justine and Patricia, before my husband arrives with our two girls.

Deciding to come early was a bit of a dilemma for me. I am the primary caregiver to our young children, so arranging childcare would be a logistical dilemma. Plus, other than a funeral in which I was out of town for 48 hours, I haven't traveled alone since before the the birth of my oldest daughter: nine years.

I consider myself a pack animal. I'm still close to my birth pack (my mother, three brothers). I feel more at ease when my own pack (husband, two kids) is together. I might complain about how little space there is, how everyone wants or needs my attention, or how much of my energy is needed to keep the pack together, but without them, I feel aimless. So the idea of traveling solo, however many times I've gotten fed up enough to fantasize about it, hardly becomes realized.

But with the encouragement of my husband and the graciousness of my friend Justine, who is putting me up for these two nights, I'm enabled to stretch out on my own.

15 Books

My good friend Tina tagged me on a note from her Facebook page listing 15 books that stuck with her over the years. The message said to think of 15 books pretty quickly, in about 15 minutes. After closing the message and thinking it over a little, I finally added my note today (2 days later or 2,880 minutes). Here were the books I picked:

1. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon: I was sucked in before I could even pronounce "golem."

2. The Good Earth, Pearl S. Buck: O-Lan is bad ass. When she just handed over the jewels to her idiotic husband, knowing he was giving them to his mistress...that kills me so much more than imagining her squatting in the field, delivering a baby, then strapping it to her body to go back out in the field. So relieved the husband realized he was an idiot in the end.

3. Come to Me (short stories), Amy Bloom: Complicated. Well-written. Not sure I believe her when she says she doesn't use her own patients or case studies for her characters. Its raw detail makes me wonder at the lives she's seen--and the life she lives.

4. East of Eden, John Steinbeck: Dark and light, Biblical, tenuous family relationships. The guy I was dating when I read this got furious at me when I spent our weekend away reading it instead of paying attention to him.

5. To A God Unknown, John Steinbeck: One of the more obscure, shorter novels by Steinbeck (though I'll read anything by him). Love the spiritual ties between Man, Nature and God.

6. A Ring of Endless Light, Madeleine L'Engle: Not the obvious choice by L'Engle, but the Austin family became just as important to me as the Murrys and the tween love drama fed my 13-year-old self. Non-verbal communication bridging science, spirit and a boy and a girl.

7. The Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson: A poetic retelling of Geryon and Herakles. Cannot believe that kind of narrative and language came from Carson seeing a tube of red paint in the drawer.

8. The Cider House Rules, John Irving: The detail, the characters, a sense of place. I was pulled into this world and reluctant to let it go when it was over. The Rep production was one of the first shows I saw here in Seattle, enabling me to fall deeper in love with this city.

9. The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje: Hardly put it down once I started it. The Sapper is never far from my mind.

10. Saturday Night at Pahala Theatre (poetry), Lois-Ann Yamanaka: A series of poems that spoke to me in pidgin, helping me remember where I came from-and dynamic enough to help me see where I wanted to go.

11. When A Woman Loves A Man (poetry) David Lehman: As a prompt, I would like to take a poem a day from this volume and attempt to create something as interesting and meaningful.

12. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini: Amazing. Interesting to read about another immigrant community's perspective in a place that felt to me like a foreign country. Heard him speak at Stanford and he was so down to earth and likeable--and a doctor--that life seemed just freakin' unfair.

13. The Red Tent, Anita Diamant: The Sisterhood of the Traveling Tent. Loved every blood soaked page

14. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen: The Rom-Com that started them all. When I read it I yearn to be smart and sassy and British.

15. The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros: Too lovely to forget. Little Esperanza, oh, how I cried for you.