Morning

Seeing my punks here, in their new home after going to their new school... Their favorite new pass-time is playing tennis in the street in front of our house. We have a street light which permits us to continue even with the ever shorter days. Access to the outdoors is a priceless thing for lil punks I think. They pass in and out of our back door countless times every day.

The only change to our new routine that they are openly protesting is the drastically reduced time with me. I'm trying to figure out how to commute across the bay, work full time and reconnect with my family every day. Since I'm here now on the 5:28 am train heading west, sleep must have gotten shafted to the number 4 slot of those priorities.

The great things about waking up before 5 am?

The air is still untouched by the scorching sun.

The stars are just nodding out.

The chickens are still sleeping.

The passing landscape is shrouded in black and sparkling points of light... reminding me of other more exotic train rides.

"On the way home, night was approaching. I watched the distance grow between the train and the Adriatic Sea. Once the sky was black and all I could see were passing lights and highways and the train was quiet everything seemed familiar again. The night, lights, and people on the train, absorbed in their books and music, are all the same really. The same you find anywhere."

- Christine

Train ride

I'm on the train for about an hour these days. It's one half of my commute. I'm on it now and thought I'd share the brilliance of this part of my day with you.

First off, I'm pecking this out with my thumb so I apologize for any thumb control/auto-correct errors that will occur. Yes, I'm blaming my phone for everything written here that makes absolutely no sense.

So what do we have here. The vast majority of my fellow riders are sleeping. You quickly appreciate that most of these beautiful souls wale up at 4 am to get to work on the morning and noise of any kind is swiftly scorned upon.

The wakeful crowd occupies themselves with their various electronics, or even paper based reading (but that can get noisy, so is also frowned upon).

We roll through one of the most beautiful canyons on the area and watch the now golden hills roll by. It's not terrible.

Well, I'm the next stop. I can't wait to see the punks.

- Christine

at the crux between not believing you are here and feeling like you never left

A fair amount of driving on auto-pilot is required at this place
While you put on blinders and bury yourself behind brick walls.
The auto-pilot fills a new house with the things that you need.
It gets your children in clean clothes and pushes them out the door.
It hops you on the train in the morning and to meetings on time.
To teacher meetings and soccer games.
And into bed at night.

It's called surviving. And I've figured out that the presence of, or the ability to turn on auto-pilot can be the difference between function and dysfunctional. Between having your act pulled together and negligence. It makes all those necessary decisions for us when we cannot engage, for one reason or another and keeps us out of trouble. Raising too many eyebrows or shaking too many heads.

rug nap

The chocolate chip cookies they sell in the cafeteria are killer. I'm quite tuckered out and so, upon forefit of my softball game today, I decided to take a nap on the floor of my office. The patch of sun, in addition to creating delightful reflected images on the wall, makes quite a cozy place to catch some time relaxing in a vertical position. I generally visit the sun patch once a day and listen to the crackle of my spine straightening out, but today I lumbar-ed down there for the expressed intent.

And here is what rug dreams are composed of: Upon waking I find my office chair disassembled and the filing cabinet knocked over, having nearly crushed me in my sleep. I right it but leave the chair for some unsuspecting soul. Mind you I was sleeping in the sun after having eaten an entire chocolate chip cookie, a glass of mango blueberry water and listening to "red red robin radio" on Pandora.

Not good.

Well, the radio tunes are actually pretty catchy.
And the cookies are delicious
And so are naps.

Just not all rolled up together. ;)

reflected butterfly

The sun shines into my new office in the afternoon and I notice as I
twist in my ergonomically correct chair that the shape of a butterfly
is reflected off the metal back support onto the wall. My new office
succulent is already dying. I never have done well by these plants
and I wonder why I let myself buy another. The world map tacked to the
wall has already faded into the background of what I notice... as has
everything else. I no longer turn desperately out of supermarkets
upon entering them... necessity has forced her hand. Old office
trinkets have found their places, marked their spots in the
accumulating dust. So I guess it's good that I notice things like
imagined butterflies... well maybe it's a horse now... trotting back
and forth across the corner of the room.

And I'm here. Sometimes I let myself think about that sliding door
twist of fate that sent the alternate me on another path. That me that
stayed in Italy and let her children delve deeper into childhood
friendships and cement their standings in the Italian elementary school.
That me who savored the sight of rusty iron work over large double
doors, the sound of footsteps on marble sidewalks and how many fossils
she could spot in the stone on her walk to the school. And then I
can't breathe and burst into tears at what I have lost.

But if I don't let myself think too deeply I can see what I have
gained. What was that again? The ability to feel truly alien in the
country I've lived all my life? Yea, there's something more to it
that I just can't wrap words around at the moment. Thoughts as
fleeting as reflections, changed, and now gone.

Literally looking up

Looking Up!

Hi folks... Things are looking up. I'm finally figuring out this new fangled technology and honing out some space and time to start blogging again. I think in this case I really need to get my head back INTO the clouds. I'm SO ready to reconnect with all of you and that creative part of myself.
See you soon!
-Christine