Pictures of the common areas in Mom’s condominium building–
The Front Lobby (under construction):
The last picture above is of a common newsroom area, still under construction, which will have wireless Internet access.
Rooftop Garden (accessible up one flight on the stairway just outside the door of the condominium):
Assigned Parking Spots (second one is similar but one floor up from actual assigned parking spot):
My father, who has a nasty cold, picked me up from the airport and we bonded in conversation about the sad state of the world as we drove. He dropped me off at the rest of the family’s place and I got a round of hugs from all but Abigail, who was already in bed and prefers head butts anyway, and Zach, who was a bit shy. I even got two hugs from Alex.
After reading a couple of bedtime stories to Sam, my mother and I sequestered ourselves in the living room. She sipped on a bit of the Vermeer chocolate liqueur I brought her as a present, while I had some on top of some mint chocolate chip ice cream.
She told me how much she is enjoying being with her grandchildren and wants my assistance in taking care of them during the weekdays while I am in town.
We also talked about her impending move to Seattle and about her financial situation. Luckily, she brough the folder of documents I need to prepare a financial summary for her. The amount of the inheritance from her mother is unknown to us, although not to her brother, my uncle Mark, whom she doesn’t want to ask for fear of annoying or angering him.
I finished reading Charleen Touchette’s It Stops With Me: Memoir of a Canuck Girl this morning. I put it on library reserve because I read that some school district had banned it and that always sparks my curiosity about a book. The book is autobiographical and tackles the issue of parental abuse of children and therapeutic recovery from all kinds of abuse. I warmed up more and more to the book as I read it.
I’m at home with a cold today.
Yesterday, I had lunch with my friend Jim S. at Cafe Luna on Castro St., then we went to Cafe Flore to chat a bit more. After that, Kurt S. and I did our regular massage exchange at my place. I’m so glad I have my wonderful purple massage table. I decided not to go out to the Eagle or El Rio this weekend, just to spend some time relaxing at home reading about Egypt. A funny coincidence is that my nephew Alex is also learning a lot about Egypt right now since he’s going to a summer camp on that topic. I’m looking forward to seeing him and the rest of the Seattle-based family soon on my trip there from July 20-30, when I will also take several days to go camping to see the wildflowers on Mount Rainier with some of the radical faeries.
The trip to Covelo was great! We all spent a lot of time hanging out around the ramshackle cabin. Creamy and Yoyo showed up in drag for the big BBQ. Jombi and Win were looking adorably queer. And Eric chowed down on the meat in a cloud of smoke from the BBQ.
Contrary to popular belief, Mitch did not turn into a hedgehog, and his Pan concocktion was delicious, refreshing, and stimulating. Somehow, Brian and Johnny transformed from kitchen queens into kings… now what is that all about? 😉 Along with all the volunteer chefs, their efforts made the event a gourmet success. Selma made fabulous quiche to complement the crate of granola I brought, so much it wouldn’t have gotten eaten if we had left it out every morning and with a bunch left for Yoyo upon our departure. And there is Will (with Eric below) who received many kudos as the meat czar.
Prickle and Buck were dandy-licious, as was Anthony in his lovely collar. Garnet, the bird, was quite often talkative and occasionally took flight as her cage is more of a sanctuary than a lockdown.
John’s boyfriend Bill was kind enough to encourage John to learn about massage, fortunately on me. We set up Eric’s massage table in a madrone grove down the hill from the cabin.
The path to my camping site brought me past a particularly lascivious madrone tree, its brown smooth bark forming a hot crotch I lusted after each time I went to my tent. Another knotty hotty madrone made me drip each time I cruised by as well.
Each day, I hiked down with some of the boys to the Eel River for delicious swimming, rock climbing, diving, sunbathing, and picnics.
Some of the guys got covered in mud and one or two buried under the sand. Win, John, and I made Jombi into tribal art, the remains of which appear below, as does a snake who slithered in the river as I swam.
Some special pictures are in a password-protected location. Let me know if you’re in any of these pictures and would prefer they be on the password-protected web page.
Other highlights of the Covelo camping trip for me were visiting the garden Yoyo is tending, reading poetry aloud while Eric, Mitcho, Anthony, and others made love on the porch, and morning yoga sometimes led by Three*. I really loved the spirit of comradery, the great food, and the healthy environment.
Thanks so much to Eric and Mitch and everyone else who made the trip possible.
From Eric and Mitcho’s land, Covelo, Mendocino County, CA:
How amazing to be back out in the country camping on the land. During the Queer Freedom Day festivities, Eric (aka Cattail) invited me to come to a Fourth of July camping weekend at his and Mitcho’s land in Covelo. Coincidentally, Yoyo (aka Joe), who I met at Antler’s Comfort & Joy Afterglow party, is the current caretaker and Eric and Mitcho’s place. So, I got a ride up with Andrew, his boyfriend Nori, and Anthony. We talked radical politics for part of the ride, considering my proposal for limiting income from all sources to $7 million a year.
We ate at a Chinese buffet restaurant on the way up, after getting a jump start for the van from a neighbor on Bernal, near my house.
We arrived fairly late at night, but I really wanted to set up my tent so I could feel fully landed and grounded in this beautiful place. So, I asked Eric, who was kind of helpful, and Yoyo, who brought me to a fabulous camping spot in a madrone grove not far from the main cabin. The path to the location feels like it is magically warded somehow because I have to concentrate very hard to remember the path even though it’s within shouting distance of the cabin.
Jack T., former housemate, is also at the Covelo gathering and it is great to have an informal environment where we can reconnect.
So far today, I’ve done my yoga — been keeping up a good practice, although my lower back seems tight — and helped with installing a solar water pump down by a creek, which was fairly hard work, but I got to jump under little waterfalls in the creek afterwards. Apparently, there is a bigger river to play in nearby which I hope to check out a bit later today. These are all tributaries of the Eel River, which Mitcho tells me is one of the last few clean rivers around here.
Buck and his friend Prickly made magnificent Hawaiian macademia nut, mango, blueberry pancakes for breakfast, which I ate along with a mimosa from Eric. I skipped the bacon and eggs.
From Alexander Bloomfield’s apartment in Rockville, MD:
I caught a cold from Grampy’s helper Bertila on Monday, so I’m feeling congested and have a sore throat. I’m still cooking meals for Grampy and the rest of us with Mom’s help. Grampy’s spirit seems to rise when he eats good food, although sometimes he claims not to care about what he eats. He definitely has a sweet tooth, consuming a lot of cake and chocolate. Luckily, getting him back on his blood pressure medication has lowered his blood pressure to acceptable levels. Twice a day, Mom, Grampy, and I sit around the table taking our blood pressure and we all remind each other to take our pills each morning.
I went down to the front dest of the apartment building yesterday where I met Bev(erly) and asked her where I could go to buy a boombox. She told me where I could go, but then mentioned that she was trying to give an old one away and she’d be happy to bring it in the next morning. I told her a few times I’d be glad to pay her for it, but she said she didn’t want anything for it. When I asked ni9cely one more time when picking it up from her this morning, she mentioned that if I really wanted, I could get her three or four mangoes, so that’s my mission before leaving here on Saturday.
I’m lying around listening to the music I got in Brazil and trying to recover rapidly from this cold. I’m homesick for San Francisco and lovesick for Guille. I want to get myself set up at home to do yoga then write for a couple of hours each morning. I want a bicycle that won’t strain my neck when I ride it. I want to start swimming 2-3 times a week in a nice swimming pool.
I’m experiencing Internet withdrawal.
My first impressions on returning to the United States–
Nothin’ much sadder than a
Beach town in the rain.
The place ain’t built for it
and the sky water leaks down
through cracks we never guessed
at onto the sunburnt necks
of frowning tourists who flee sunward
stranding only those who
have no better destination in mind,
afloat under thundrous skies.
From TAM Airline Magazine, May 27, 2006, pp.52-53:
The maracatu ritual orginated with Brazilian slaves, some of whom remembered ceremonies for the crowning of kings in Congo. The King Balthazar cult arose from these ceremonies and occurs in Pernambuco state. The ceremonies take place especially during Carnival in Recife and in Zona da Mata where the party is known as Maracatu de Baque Solto.