Month of Gratitude, Day 30: One, Love, All

One of my English professors told our class in a lecture, "Come on.  We all believe in something.  Otherwise, you couldn't write a check."  

His insight has stuck with me for now over 20 years.  His point:  it takes faith -- in something, or in many things -- to be able to operate in this world without seeing the direct results of an action the minute it occurs.  In other words, we trust in something.  We all do believe in something larger than ourselves.   Seriously.  Otherwise, how and why would we even get out of bed in the morning?  If we didn't believe that something larger -- whatever you might think it is -- was afoot, there would be no point in enduring that nasty moment when you pry your warm, happy self out from between the warm, snuggly covers and step into the relative cold of the room.  Of the day.  Of the world.  If not for the belief that there is some reason to get out of bed, we wouldn't.

When we think we don't believe, when we are in our darkest hours, it is good to know that we do believe in something.  Because we do write checks.  Because we do engage in activities each moment that demonstrate to ourselves that we are operating for SOME REASON.   

I hope that everyone knows her reason.  Because knowing your reason gives you access to stores of energy, courage, stamina, humor and grace that it seems you can't find unless/until you know your reason.

For me, the details of one's religion and spirituality are more private and sacred than are topics of even politics or money or sex.  I believe that everyone's spirituality -- even if it is a passionately-held atheism -- is a completely unique and personally-felt matter, and that it is vitally important to respect that part of each other, instead of assault and insult it.  I realize that concept itself is hurtful to some people.  Please know that no offense is intended, and I wish that I had the talent to articulate the one, love, all that I feel about this kind of acceptance.  Because there is a little kid part of me that feels like, if I just could find the words to express how my own One feels to me, there would be some hope of clarity and compassion in existing together side by side with all of our differences. 

I am grateful for my One.  For its unending solace, inspiration, imagination, companionship, tolerance, joy, humor, endless unfolding one love all.  And I am grateful for your One, whatever your One is.  

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And I'm also grateful to the brave, kind souls who have posted during this Month of Gratitude, and for everyone who read along.  A surprising by-product of this month has been me learning that the more you pay attention to what you are grateful for, and the more you say it out loud for people to know, the more grateful you become generally.  Which is a real gift.  And, just like pull-ups!  The more we practice, the more we can do.  THANK YOU, GUYS!!!!  YOU ROCK!!!!

Month of Gratitude, Day 29: Clarke

I'm grateful for my husband, Clarke . . . to whom Bean Up The Nose Art owes a deep debt (literally, and figuratively) of gratitude.  Well, not really -- because with Clarke, there is never any debt.  He gives without expecting things back.  Which is something he is way better at than I am.

Here's Clarke on the phone with work.  On vacation.

As every one of our friends, family members and therapists knows, I HATE THAT!!!!  There has always been an enormous bone of contention, leading to a chip on my shoulder, related to what I perceive as  Clarke's "Prairie Home Companion"/midwestern/Norgwegian/suck-it-up-and-suffer (I'm being as very insensitively and inappropriately stereotypic here as possible) ethic that dictates that work -- paid work -- must always come first in life.   For Clarke.  He does not impose that on others.  But for him, that's the deal.

Which, as I've finally come to see it, has worked wonders for ME.

So, why have I complained for all these years?

If not for Clarke's stability, generosity and work ethic -- all of which infuse the household with funds, and which provide me tons of time and energy on my own -- would I ever have done any of these new things of the past decade of my life?  Ride horses?  Get a dog?  Travel on road trips? Become a collage artist and start Bean Up The Nose Art?  Have a dedicated writing practice?  I doubt it.  When we got married, I was simply going to be a lawyer.  The goal was to be lawyers together.  But Clarke kept working at his own law firm.  And I hated him for it.  And held it against him.  And kept up my half of a big old wedge between us.  And went about my business and made all manner of fun and productive decisions and commitments.  And changed my life.

I don't think this would have happened without Clarke -- without what he provides, and without what he denies.   Though we too often engage in "parallel play" -- what a marriage counselor once explained as operating in the same world around each other, instead of with each other -- we make a good team.  

Clarke is a runner extraordinaire.  The man is ten years older than me, and can run circles around -- and much faster than -- me.  Here he is, doing the first leg of the Maui relay in September.

At that relay, Clarke ran a total of 14 miles.  While the rest of us pikers, up to 30 years younger than Clarke, ran only from eight to ten.  He made up the difference for us.  On the hilliest legs of the run.  And totally beat all of our times.

Clarke is a long-suffering Cal football fan.  He began attending the Big Game in the 1970s, and has never missed one since.  Until earlier this month, he was a long-suffering San Francsico Giants fan, too.  (Blissfully, that particular suffering has ended!)  

He brings that same dedication to his work, to his sports training in running and in CrossFit, and to his family.

  

I am lucky to have found him.

Thank you, Clarke.  Though we have gone through some really hard spots, especially over this past year, I am and will always be profoundly grateful for everything you have given me through these -- now 16! -- years we've been together.  YOU ROCK!!!!

Month of Gratitude, Day 28: Critters

I'm grateful for the animals that we call "ours."

This is Lucy.  Boy oh boy, did this terrific old swaybacked gal change the course of things in life.  

Right around the time my youngest kid was getting her driver's license, a very bean-up-the-nose question popped into my head . . . "Now that you are not tied to picking up anyone from school every single weekday at 3:00 . . . WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?!"  Within the space of a hearbeat, "Learn to ride horses!" popped out of my mouth.  So I started a weekly hour-and-a-half trek from our house out to Five Brooks Ranch in Pt. Reyes National Seashore.  And fell in love.  With all horses.  And especially with Lucy.   That horse was the best mix of kindness, orneriness, fun and patience that I ever could have hoped for.  We rode for hours and hours out on trails alone, and never had a single trouble.  She was like some kind of wise old guardian of the trail.  

And so, when that same youngest kid was graduating from high school, another bean-up-the-nose propulsion kicked in:  we need to move closer to the horses.  Which we did.  And then, we bought Lucy.  Who remained the very best horse on earth, even through her retirement with a bum knee, and until we had to put her down in December, 2005.  THANK YOU, LUCY, for your terrific spirit, for your strength, your tenacity, your patience, your companionship, your life.  I'm privileged to have gotten to share some of it.

When we moved to West Marin, more bean-up-the-nose ideas began germinating.  One was, "Beekeeping!!!"  So we took classes and got information at an awesome store up in Sebastopol called Bee Kind . . . got all the supplies there . . . and almost five years ago got our first "boxes" of bees and their queen (yes, boxes!  the bees come in a shoe-box sized wood frame box with screen mesh on the sides!  cool!!) and installed them in our backyard.

Here are the two hives' boxes, in the middle of summer . . . when honey production is high.  (The two layers of half-sized boxes on top are just for honey.  The "deeps" on the bottom are where the queen lays the eggs, where the eggs are guarded over by bees until they become bees themselves.  There's a lot of honey in the deeps, too.)

Here's a close-up of some of the gals at their front door, waiting to get into the hive to bring in the stores of pollen and nectar they've gathered out in the fields, within a three-mile radius of the hive.  

Clarke is the beekeeper extraordinaire of the family.  For the first couple of seasons, it was both of us out there together.  Then, after a season when we gathered the honey a little late and the gals were a tad testy about that (like, trying to crawl up your pant-leg to say, "BACK AWAY FROM THE HONEY!"), I got a bit hinky.  Now, Clarke is the man.  This year, he harvested five gallons of honey from the two hives -- when the typical year renders one or maybe two.  The bees love Clarke.  Thank you, bees, for the wonder of how you work your lives.  It has been amazing to learn about how you operate, to see your activities every day when I'm driving up the driveway, to hear you, to smell your honey, and to get to harvest it and eat it and share it with others.

This is The Black Kitty.  

That's her name.  She has other, more formal names.  But ever since she came to live with us as a kitten from the Oakland animal shelter almost 15 years ago, she has simply been, "The Black Kitty."  She has been an indoor kitty, and does not seem to mind that.  Except for the time she decided to take a stroll out the open attic window and fell four stories.  NOT A SCRATCH.  She is a trooper, a butterball, a paper-loving, affectionate goof who somehow knows every single Saturday morning that today is, in fact, Saturday -- which is her ritual time to get brushed.  And she will meow at you until you do.  But just on Saturday.  Thanks, Black Kitty, for being the first and oldest of all the animals in our tribe, for hanging in there with us for all this time.

This is The Grey Kitty.  

Same story as The Black Kitty:  she has names, but they are never used. She is simply The Grey Kitty.  And she is the boss of the house.  She tells The Black Kitty what to do, where to go, when and what she can eat.  She even keeps the dog in line.  And us.  The Grey Kitty is tiny and mighty, and for nearly 14 years has been running the house well.  Thanks, Grey Kitty, for being your mighty self, and for deigning to live with us all this time.

And this, as you know from previous posts, is Gracie.  

Before we got Gracie, I used to laugh at and be irritated by people who talked about their dogs.

Now look at me. 

Which is a good lesson:  be careful about what you mock.  Because odds are, you're going to turn into it yourself.  

Of course, Gracie is the best dog in the world.  (Even though she's not.  Oh my goodness, this girl has got issues.  Which bump against MY issues.  Which apparently, according to our dog-whisperer vet, is the whole point.)  

Gracie popped into our lives as a seven-month-old rescue dog.  She's now almost eight years old.  Over that time, she has provided endless guarding and entertainment, racked up vet bills, driven across the country with us, traveled up and down the West Coast from here to Whidbey over and over again, and been a completely loyal and nutty wonder throughout.  She, as our real kids will tell you, is the kid we love the most.  That is just a joke, of course.  (Well, pretty much.)

Thank you, Gracie, for the being that is you.  All the way down to the bottoms of your feet pads.  You are a trial, a gift, a wonder, a friend.  Couldn't imagine these past years without you.

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CONTEST ENDS NOVEMBER 30!!!!  Remember to post a comment here about what YOU'RE grateful for!  You'll be entered in a drawing to receive Bean Up The Nose Art goodies.  Blog, tweet, or post on your Facebook page about this Month Of Gratitude, and you'll get five additional drawing entries.  THANKS FOR PLAYING!!!!

Month of Gratitude, Day 27: Home

I'm grateful for home.

It's impossible not to be.  It's a wonderful house, in a wonderful place . . . West Marin County, California, out among the bay trees and dairy cows, on your way out to Point Reyes National Seashore.

Here is the front yard in the spring . . . a terrific garden that Clarke has worked on a lot, and I used to (before art world became part of life) . . . and sometimes, we break down and import help.  Thank you, Mario!!!!

The backyard in fall.  The terraces were built by the original owners . . . an Italian family who used this place for their "country home" outside of San Francisco, and to grow grapes to make wine in the basement during Prohibition.  There are still some of the grape vines up at the top of the yard -- today, enjoyed by deer.  And now, we grow lavender, instead -- much loved by the bees we keep.  (More on those gals tomorrow.)

Three happy things in a backyard:  a clothesline, a vegetable garden plot . . . and a set of pull-up bars.  

A fall shot of the front yard . . . a persimmon tree who offers up her little orange lanterns of fruit. 
I am so grateful for this happy house, where we've lived since 2003.  I'm grateful to be able to be its caretakers -- to have had the resources to take it back to its solid, sweet 1920s farmhouse status, after some decades of inattention.  I'm grateful for all the old fruit trees, for the new things we've planted, for the creek that runs down through the side (even though it floods the old garage), for all of the places and times this property offers for quiet retreat and for celebratory joy, for all of the house's wood and stone that keeps us safe and dry and warm through wet and wild West Marin winters . . . and I am grateful for the very heart of this place.  THANK YOU, HOME!!!!  You are the only house I have every truly loved.  Thank you for that!

Month of Gratitude, Day 26: Friends . . . YOU!

I'm grateful for YOU!  

For being here, for supporting the site, for checking out what's going on with Bean Up The Nose Art products, and for buying them.  Thanks for being a virtual friend!

I'm also grateful for my friends in the real -- as opposed to virtual -- world.   All of whom deserve a big, fat, juicy "THANK YOU!" here today.  So, here goes!

For my "fifth grade friends" . . .  Lori, Diana, Jimmy and Miss Rathjens . . . I am grateful to have known each other so long, and through so many things.  It is unbelievable to me that we hooked up when we were 10 years old.  And here we all are.  YAY!!  

For ex-husband Vince and his wonderful "new" wife (of nearly 20 years) Wendy . . . I am grateful for the creativity, patience, loyalty and savvy with which we've been able to operate all these years, and for your fine spirits.  In a world where divorce typically wreaks complete havoc, I am so grateful for our friendship and the way we have been able to raise up those darned "kids" . . .who are getting to be about the same aged now as we were when we all met.  Holy cow.

For all friendships that have grown out of lawyer world . . . for your great ideas, your willingness to answer questions and spend time, your dedication to your work, and your capacities to improve mine, I am profoundly grateful to you Cliff, Dorothy, Gail, Jennifer, Jeri, Lainie, Miro and Morey.  And for all those years, all those years ago, and though we hardly see each other any more, thank you, Eric and Kathy, for everything.

For terrific neighbors in West Marin and on Whidbey . . .  Anne and Richard, and Mitch and Lynda and your lovely brood.  Thank you for your gentle presences, and being there for us.

For gym women extraordinaire, whose amazing strength -- of all kinds -- I am inspired by all the time.  Thank you, Arbella, Corey, Kim, Meshelle and Miyoko.

For folks who have encouraged me to write, and who have improved my writing greatly . . . Don, Walter, and Toni.  The honesty you find, and the balance you all strike, in your feedback is priceless.  Thank you!

For my riding buddy Katja, even when I don't ride any more . . . you are a wonderful, hilarious, smart chick with whom I am grateful to spend any amount of time.  And practice writing in French.  

For art and business women in Marin whose lives and work are constant sources of inspiration . . . Janice, Julie, Melissa, Susan, Virginia.  And again to you, dear Toni!

And to the peeps up on Whidbey . . . with whom I have REAL MAIL-ed, crafted, eaten, laughed, and spent most wondrous hours . . . Dana, Dea, Deb, Dianna, Jamie, Jeanie, Joe, Mary, Naomi, Rita, Ruth, Steph, Susan, Tracy, Tina and Vicki.  You are all terrifically fabulous-o!!!  I am so lucky that you all include me in your Whidbey world.

Thank you to friends and readers.  Thank you to all of you wonderful beings who make life interesting and possible.  I am truly grateful to YOU!!!

Month of Gratitude, Day 25: Family

I am grateful for my family . . . both "of origin," and "of creation."

It has taken the enormous gifts of time, grace and luck for me to include the "of origin" part and mean it completely and sincerely.  Because we got off to a very rocky start, which was then compounded by many bumps and misunderstandings along the way, which were themselves complicated by lots of "isms" and other fragilities . . . and mostly, by the lack of any of us knowing anything about how to find a good way to perceive each other operate side by side among our inevitable differences.  In short, it was pretty much a hot mess for everyone involved for a fairly long time.  

Add to that:  I was even more of a demanding and judgmental pill than I am now.  Which you can ascertain in my, "Hey, you -- listen up!" stance here with my mom.  

Here's me with my dad.  You can tell that even then, I was quite sure I knew a better way to do things than everyone I saw operating around me.  And I was going to let you know about it, too.  Right before I stuck a bean up my nose.

Here's me with my brother Corey.  Who had to endure being bossed around.  A lot.

But miraculously, time allows things to change.  In fact, it's turning us all into some darned fine human beings.  For which I am immensely grateful.  Here, Clarke and I are at Teatro Zinzani (if you haven't been, GO TONIGHT!) with my stepmom Nancy, my dad, and my terrific half-sister Kim.

  
And many Thanksgiving Day thoughts here to loved ones who have passed, especially Mom and Danny.

Now, as for the family-of-creation.  Also takes some time to figure out how things work.  I am profoundly grateful for the abilities of folks to get along these days . . . where the years of teasing and related micro-parenting have finally passed, and we can enjoy each others' company and gifts.  Like we did at the Maui Relay this year.  Here, step-son Erik, daughter Meryl, Clarke and I, and Meryl's boyfriend Chris enjoy the post-race relief. 

Not in the race -- but we love him, anyway -- was son Adam, and his fiancee Christine:

These are some pretty darned fabulous folks.  I am incredibly lucky to be their mom, and nearly-mom-in-law.  If you are a parent, you know I could go on for about 100 blogspots about the whole deal.  Let me just say here that these kids know how to roll with the punches and take risks, and every single one of them has an amazing work ethic.  And they are funny and smart, and kind and sarcastic, and a heck of a lot of fun to be around.  

One of the things I like best about us as a tribe is our communally contrarian nature . . . eschewing the traditional/conventional when it fits us better to do something else.  Like for instance, our "Alternative Holiday Celebration" each Christmas season, which enables everyone to spend time with relatives for whom it is critical to spend time on specific holiday days with each other.  Taking that into account, we e-mail back and forth in October about what day works for best for us to celebrate and leave the holiday days open for the more traditional folk.  And each year, one of the kids is responsible for coming up with three proposed activities for the day.  Then, we all vote.  Here's us at the 2008 winner:  Six Flags. 

These are the same terrific folks who decided a couple of years ago that it was adventurous to forego the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and instead to eat together in a strip mall hof brau and see "Bad Santa."  It turned out to be one of our best Thanksgivings ever.  

Thank you, thank you, families of origin and creation.  Thanks for all of your individual creativity, love, kindness, and care.  Thanks for your group efforts at fun and support all along the way.  Thank you for all you have taught me over all these years.  I would be nothing without every single one of you.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!!

Month of Gratitude, Day 24: Movies

I am grateful for the movies.  

As in, "I'm/we're going to the movies."

Not watching at home on the VCR (old days), or on DVD, or streaming on your computer.  Actually going to a movie theater, to watch a movie.  And here's where I've probably seen more of any in my life -- at the wonderful Fairfax Theatre, in Fairfax California . . . the closest theater to Bean Up The Nose Art's California digs, and which offers a great random sampling of first-run "shows" (as my grandma used to call the movies).

We're coming up to the final days of the Month of Gratitude, and the stakes are getting higher . . . what are the biggies, without which life would just be something completely awful?  What are the things that mean the very most?

Movies are definitely "final week" material for me.  They have nurtured my creative, emotional, and spiritual soul ever since I can remember.  There is NOTHING ON EARTH like sitting in a dark theater and letting the magic of creative vision pour over you.  Getting lost in the story.  Getting inspired by the heroics.  Getting blown away by the abilities of humans to create worlds and ways of seeing things that make you think, on your darkest days, that life nevertheless remains amazing and wonderful.  

The first movie I remember seeing -- in Reno, Nevada, where my dad drove my mom and me downtown for the big show in our best dresses, was "Mary Poppins." 

That did it.  I was in love.  Cartoon penguins who danced with Dick Van Dyke?!?!  Chimney sweeps leaping across rooftops?!?!?  Medicine that changed colors?!?!  Laughing making you drift up to the ceiling?!?!?  SIGN.  ME.  UP.  

I was totally hooked.  

I loved everything.  "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,"  "True Grit," "The Cowboys," "The Way We Were," "The French Connection,"  "Little Big Man," "The Sting."  And though I did not see it at the time it came out (for some reason, my parents found this movie -- though not others -- too dark), "The Godfather" has since become a complete favorite.  

Another life-changer was "The Natural."  The cinematography of Roy Hobbs running around the bases in the rain with sparks from the lights coming down onto the field . . . in  . . . super . . . slow . . . motion . . . makes me sigh a gigantic sigh of appreciation even as I type.  

Baseball movies abound on my appreciation list.  There is "Bull Durham," along with "The Natural."  And "Field of Dreams."  

Which gets me realizing that many of my most-appreciated flicks are "real-life-with-something-extra" stories.  Not fantasies or sci-fi or alternate universes.  Nope.  Real life, but with a little extra elbow-in-the-ribs by the filmmakers, saying, "See what's really going on, underneath?"  Yes, there are dead baseball players who would like to come play in your backyard.  Yes, you can recover from catastrophic injuries, and become a mythical homerun hitter.  Yes, you can get stuck in some sort of time-loop, which ironically will give you the chance to learn how you really want to live your life:  

I have loved many, many movies since "Groundhog Day."  Dark dramas that wrestle with notions of what is truly moral, what is good and what is evil:  "Miller's Crossing," "Elizabeth,"  "Gladiator," "Hotel Rwanda."  And, back to the "real-life-with-something more" genre, there is the amazing "Pan's Labyrinth," which unbelievably melds real life historical peril with the "something more" behind it.

My most-appreciated movie so far this year?  "Get Low."  Because, as I am getting older, Ifind myself appreciating film-makers who obviously cherish older and quirkier folk, and who make movies about their rich, experience-filled stories.  

My most-looked forward to movie:

 
Fabulous writers.  Fabulous directors.  Awesome actors.  Cowboys.  What more could a girl want?

Thank you, thank you, thank you to the movies, for all the entertainment and sustenance, "surprise and reassurance," that you have provided me for my whole life.  You are the most expensive and complicated of all the art forms.  It is thus a miracle when a movie turns out to be wondrous -- because there are so many places along the way that things can fall down, and people can screw up.  When it all comes together, it is truly a thing of beauty.  For all of those, and for all the attempts, and for all of those people involved . . .  I AM GRATEFUL!

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ONLY SEVEN DAYS LEFT!  Post a comment letting us know what you're grateful for this month, and be entered in the November 30 drawing for Bean Up The Nose Art goodies!  Tweet, blog, or Facebook about this and receive five additional entries in the drawing.

Month of Gratitude, Day 23: Meditation, Silence, Silent Retreats

Month of Gratitude, Day 22: Food, Farms, Farmers

Especially in this, Thanksgiving week, I am grateful for food.  And for the places it's grown and harvested.  And for the people who make that happen.

How lucky, lucky, lucky is it not to be hungry?  When we're having a bad day, we'd do well to stop right there and think about that circumstance alone:  enough to eat and drink.  What a gift.

Thank you to all of you folks who are in the "food chain" -- growing it and sending to places where we can buy what you've worked on.  Thank you for getting up at "O:dark:30" every morning in the freezing cold and wet and dark and taking care of your business.  Thank you for staying put in one place, day in and day out, and doing all of this, for all of us.

I'm grateful for cool and innovative programs like this one:  

which trains people to become farmers!  How awesome is THAT?!?!  Because the average age of farmers in this country is 57 years old.  And only 50% of independently-owned farms make a profit.  So, I'm thankful for programs that are teaching a new generation of folk to take on this hard work, and find ways to make a living at it.  

Greenbank Farm's training center had its inaugural year's graduation ceremony this fall, and held a pig roast in honor.  The pig was raised by a boy on the island.  

Tours of the farm were had.  I even love the compost piles.  

Thank you to all of the folks who work so hard to grow and raise all of what we eat.  May you and we continue along in good health, and lack of hunger.  THANK YOU!!!!

Month of Gratitude, Day 21: On the Road

I'm grateful for the road.  For being on the road.  For road trips.  For a life full of wandering from place to place, coming back and leaving and circling around again.  

I live in what is arguably one of the loveliest places imaginable -- West Marin County, California -- in what is arguably among the sweetest houses on the planet.

Does that keep me there?  Nope.  There is nothing more satisfying to me than driving off, and coming back.  Not staying put.  I love my rearview mirror, and what's in front of it.  (Except maybe traffic jams.)  It's just exciting as heck.  Maybe it comes from living in 25 different homes before you're 50 years old.  Not sure.  But I do know that it feels like a little part of me dies when I honestly assess the fact that I will never see the whole world.

I'm pretty sure that one of the major reasons the death penalty attorney part of me works well is because of the road trips involved.  Investigation necessary in Laramie, Wyoming?  YES!!!!!  Pack up the dog, your adult daughter, and drive on out into the wild.  

Novelist and screenwriter extraordinaire George Pelecanos says, "Yes, everything you need to know in terms of factual research is probably available in the library on on the Internet.  But there's no substitute for breathing the air and feeling the dirt."  

Amen to that. 

Today, Gracie and I are on the road: 

  
driving part of the 850 miles between Whidbey Island and West Marin, CA.  (Usually we do this trip in one day.  But there's supposed to be snow.  So, we're breaking it up.)  We'll be listening to audio books and the radio, and thinking fond thoughts of all of you!!!!

Thank you to the road.  To adventure.  To seeing what is new.  And to coming back to what you love.

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NINE DAYS LEFT!  Post a comment letting us know what you're grateful for, and you'll be entered into the November 30 drawing for a free gift of Bean Up The Nose Art product specially designed for this month of gratitude.  Tweet or Facebook or blog about the contest, and your name will be entered five more times.  What are you grateful for?

Month of Gratitude, Day 20: Whidbey Island

I am grateful for Whidbey Island, in the state of Washington.

And memorialized forever on my left calf:

(Don't ask me how come I could not get i-photo and Blogger to interface and cooperate and publish this with a quarter-turn.  Because I don't know.  And I am not a member of the generation that can figure that out in less than an hour.  Therefore, moving along . . . .)

This is how you get to the south end of Whidbey from the mainland (or, as Whidbey residents refer to it, "America,") --  via the ferry that runs every half-hour between Mukilteo (in America) and Clinton (on Whidbey):  

Here is a sampling of what you will find on the island.  And though there are many photos here, this is just a small percentage of the amazing things you'll see, which you will want to photograph.   

This is Penn Cove . . . the biggest bay on the right (east) side of the island, which you can see above on the handy visual aid of my calf:  

This is Ebey's Prairie . . . looking onto the strait of Juan de Fuca, across to the Olympic Pennisula (the "thumb" of Washington that sticks out into the Pacific in the northwestern most place):

More of Ebey's . . . making it very easy to "eat local" when you live here:

 Mid-island is Greenbank Farm . . . home of gardens, off-leash dog trails, a fabulous barn hosting tons of activities all through the year, and the Whidbey Pies Cafe where REAL MAIL meets:  

Wildlife abounds.  These sea stars live underneath the wharf in Coupeville.  It is not unusual to see bald eagles flying high in the sky above them.  And river otters and sea lions swimming around them:

There are three movie venues on the island.  A three-plex up in Oak Harbor (near the top/north of the island; see leg for illustration); the fabulous Clyde Theatre way down the island, in Langley; and the Blue Fox Drive-In, in between.  Fabulous prices and sweet snack bar.  Tons of fun to park your car on the lawn and watch:  

I'm packing up the car tonight, to drive dog Gracie and me back down to home in California for the holidays and beyond.  I've been looking forward to seeing everyone there that I miss, and to being plugged back in to daily life in that world.  But it is hard to convey how much I will miss all things Whidbey, until next time I get to come up.  There is something about life on an island (even one that is 40 miles long) that slows people down and makes them smile at each other and hold doors open and know each other's schedules and foibles and hopes and dreams in a way that simply does not happen -- easily, or maybe even at all -- in other places.  I am grateful for friends here, for how time is spent, for how the smallest things seem huge, for the stunning views, for the terrific food lovingly prepared (there are no better cinnamon rolls in the world than at Mosquito Fleet in Coupeville), and for all other things Whidbey.