Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Poetry and Pizza

These are the poems we wrote together at L'Abri. Starting with each person writing a line on a piece of paper, we passed around the papers until everyone had written a line on each page.

Poem 1

Why pour your thoughtless guts into a mug you know will be shattered by the hobo who lives under the bridge
Who lives to grab and steal your shoes
alone to rummage through the free boxes.
His mind as sharp as 10 foxes
or as quick as the bald eagle
or waven
or as slow as sixteen chickens avoiding fate
trying to conuure memories of love.

Poem 2

The last camel died at noon
I must say it was rather not like a balloon
Actually, I have to say it
And so my cale-sized teardrops fell
like hands descending through water
I will give up and fall to my father
I knelt an dwelt as death-tolls knelled
Bt rather I would dwell on orange balloons
high in the sky.

Poem 3

And as the stars fall like drops from the sky
I thought that is drop rain
but really it was
something cold, forgotten and let o die
like roadkill frozen solid
with staring eyes glazed, frosted open
and a bleededheart
all beause he'd thought of "her."

Poem 4

I have promises to keep
but death has found my name.
I look away, covering one ey with a sweaty palm
and swallowing the yawning time.
I often look back at time past
that's all I did
and somehow, that's ok -
But then I wonder - whas was that promise for anyway?
That was for Lord.

Poem 5

We should love to by ourselves,
and keep the peace
but what is kept in empty bleeding hands
seeps deeper than I would ever want to admit.
It drips in cracks and slips in stones,
but still I hope and long and dream
about a better life.
My realizations soon to be awarded
for an undying commitment to the way of love.

Poem 6

As the silver-speckled sphere slid across the sapphire sky,
I gazed with rapt attention
so that is
it could only be from the 5th demension
or perhaps it was the 11th
or maybe not
and then
it turned out to be
Shakespeare's fossilized nose hair!

Poem 7

I blow on the leaf, resistant, crumbling, defiant
and gather the shrumbles to offer to the short one
hoping to capture a spring's shrug.
With open eyes and willing hands
he lifted his eyes heavenward
and out jumped a ghoblin - He screamed! Argg!
He wasn't scared though
because he was wearing Superman underwear.

Poem 8

Falling softley from the sky,
he reached a softie cloud
fluffy and pink with blush.
Suddenly the boy had a crush
and, was it car crash?
No, it was a train wreck, a whiplash,
a memory of your first awkard hello
when you peed your pants and turned to jell-o,
puddling, uncoagulated rivers of slushed, hoped dreams.

Poem 9

He walked slowly
looking his Sunday best
all the ladies, took a gasp of breathe.
Why? They have ran now?
Oh look it's a
guy named Chuck with a circus moneky
who has no esophagus
and quite a rhinoceros.
Such a fine fellow was he too.

Chocolati Café

When I have sugar, I always have to decide if it's worth the discomfort it provides.

A sugar high is almost always followed by a sugar low accompanied by a stomach ache ache ache. But the motto my parents raised me on, I think, is everything in moderation.

So moderation, yesterday, allowed me a hot chocolate from Chocolati Café in Wallingford (the neighbourhood my brother lives in - and probably the cutest neighbourhoods in Seattle, maybe right after Queen Anne).

Tuesday is Megan's night out. Every Tuesday she obliged to get out of the house and do something and tonight I got to see her. She's something of a big sister, I guess. She's one of three friends of the female gender than I regularly see and also friends with my brother (they're the same age). She gives excellent advice and helps me sort through brain things I normally keep pretty well locked up... and has quick wit I appreciate and enjoy.

Post fight lessons in Seattle, I had a few hours to kill and wasn't up for journeying home just to journey out again, so I wandered the Seattle Center a bit before hopping the 16 that took me to Ian's Big Yellow House. I got to hang out there for a couple of hours, listening to music, reading, and distracting him as he had a major deadline to tackle.

I have such a rad brother. Seriously. He's humorous, intelligent, innovative, inspiring, and altogether a super-nice dude.

At 7 PM, Megan came over and then we all headed the few locks over to Chocolati Café where the hot chocolates are so chocolate-y it's insane. It's like drinking liquid chocolate, so rich. They literally pour melted chocolate into the milk and wiggle their magic fingers, or something. It's incredible! By the time you get to the bottom, a lot of the chocolate has settled into delicious chocolate sludge at the bottom. Oh, that was not good word choice at all, sludge. Anyways, you know how at the bottom of some hot chocolates you get this nasty syrup stuff? Well, imagine that syrup was legit chocolate, like a melted truffle, and you liked it. That's what it was like.

The atmosphere was lovely, with two separate balcony areas and a main floor, every table occupied with Seattleites.

Yes, I got the sugar high.
Then I got the low.
But I'd say it was well, well worth it.

Post-Café, we wandered to the Sock Monster to admire their glorious sock selection and then to the QFC to look at stuff, because I like grocery stores. Then back back back home we go (with a quick stop at Fred Meyer's for another spaghetti squash as my spaghetti squash selection had just run out).

So satisfied.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Queen Anne, Seattle Center, and We Should All Learn Martial Arts

Why don't we learn martial arts in school?

Today, Seattle took me to Queen Anne [hill].

I got some brain exploding done at Seattle Pacific University on the third floor of their library... and on the 522. Lots of thoughts bouncing in my head that I need to sort out.

My time ended when I realized it was 2:30 PM, time to meander over to South Queen Anne to learn to... fight? That's what I was invited to.

Robert's home offered cups of tea (well, actually, he offered it.. not his home), an organ, and Celtic literature. Today's focus was, from my evaluations, about body control - starting inner and moving to outer. We began with meditation followed by conditioning and then I learned some of the very basics (three stances: horse, bow, cat).

It was refreshing to have something to work on. I can't say I found it easy by any means, as it ought not be. But in the midst of it all, I wished someone had started instructing me on this earlier in life. There were so many little things to focus on, so many things to be aware of - this addressed many of the negative sides of SPD and ADHD.

It was about focusing.
It was about body awareness.

It was about what I lack and need to work on.

I wish little me could have had the time to step back, slow down, and really tackle the things don't come quite as naturally to me

And I was grateful I wasn't being charged for this one on one time. It was really kind of him to make the offer and follow through. He gave up an hour of his time to share his knowledge with me.

Now I've got something to work on for the next 20 days while I inhabit Bowen Island again.

Oly Oly Oxen Free

Here's an oldie film from romps around Olympia last last summer.

[at 0:08 you can see Kimya Dawson from the Moldy Peaches and Antsy Pants]

Monday, November 28, 2011

Tractor Tavern

Finally. 21 years old in the States.

It was back in 2010 that I first was introduced into the old time Seattle scene and was re-discouraged by my age. By not being 21, dozens of doors were closed off to me and there were events I missed out on.

I've been back in the states since the 23rd, but tonight was the first time my age came in handy.

The Tractor Tavern has been on my mind for a while now. I've wanted to go to the Monday night square dances I have so often heard about - but they're 21 and over only. On Mondays, the Tavern packs full of hot sweaty (literally) Seattleites whirling around to the basic calls of not modern Western (what I was raised on) square dancing but the traditional stuff. The dances you can teach in a few minutes and start the music up.

It's a completely different world from the square dancing I was raised on, but I love it all the same. I have to say, I think it has a whole lot more heart, soul, and joy to it then modern Western. When I go to this dance, everyone is laughing and grinning, can't say the same for the other type.

Alex got me a cup of Hales Troll Porter, brewed locally just 1.1 miles down the road. I can't say I have the proper vocabulary to describe the taste -- but I can say it was incredibly refreshing.

We were about to drive past Ian's Big Yellow House so we met up with him at Dick's which was wonderful! I love my brother so much!

Definitely a wonderful night. Definitely will be back.

I love twirling, spinning, clashing, getting extra sweaty and then going outside into the 3°C air.

Teapot Microphone and Fixed Harpsichord

Two celebration points!

Today I discovered that singing into the spout of a teapot is WONDERFUL! Have you ever tried it? It's amazing!

You can turn the pot towards your ear and it amplifies your voice like a microphone and speaker would. Singing into that thing is dreadfully entertaining. It makes me feel so loud!


Dad fixed the harpsichord he built! It's been around since before I was born but through hot and cold it stopped playing smoothly. Now it plays rad-ly, encouraging extended practice time.

Moving Day: Bike, Climb, Clog, Dance

Alex and I got to move yesterday.

Woke up and went for a bike ride (in the pour rain).
Then we went climbing.
Then we clogged.
Then we did the cha cha.
Then we did the waltz.
Then we square danced.

Spaghetti Squash

I could live off of spaghetti squash.
Straight up spaghetti squash.

For less than $3, you get a few meals.
375 degrees for an hour.

Stringy, kinda sweet, kinda refreshing, kinda filling.

Oh, how grateful I am for Winter squash.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Growing Up in a Spaceship

Growing up, I didn't have the typical playhouse that most kids' parents get them. No. My dad designed and constructed a two story spaceship for my brother and I.

And it was awesome.
Absolutely AWESOME!

I mean, look at that thing. It's a spaceship. How much cooler can you get? Can you even get cooler than that?

Back then, we kept it on the deck on the porch, overlooking the valley. At that time, our house was also big-bird yellow. This made our house the loud landmark of the village.

"Yes, Irving. When you see the bright yellow house with the spaceship, take a right..."

To get up to the second level, you had a climb a ladder, moving through a child-sized hole which was easily blocked up. The upper level was filled with old airplane controls and equipment to aid in our play.

I am grateful to have such a creative Dad.
We definitely had the only spaceship on the block.

Seattle Rhythms - Occupy Black Friday [Seattle]+ Seattle Subversive Square Dance + Phở

Today was my ever-so-very first actually-free day I've had in Seattle in the past 77 days

77 days without any Seattle-freedom? How did I survive?

I survived beautifully, actually. L'Abri life was beautiful life. I loved learning to live without doing-doing-doing and I told myself, I told myself that when I got back I would try not to slip back into that do-everything-there-is-to-do-in-the-world mode.

Like that was going to happen.

My Friday was an empty slate until, Thursday afternoon, I got an email that the Seattle Subversive Square Dance Society was going to be making an appearance at Occupy Black Friday at Westlake Center. What? Dancing at Westlake? That's a boat I definitely want to get in.

The basic gist of the event (called a "protest" - but if it was a protest, it was the loveliest protest I have ever accidentally taken part of - I wasn't up for protesting without fully understanding the cause but I did want to dance) was: to forgo the shopping frenzy and come to Westlake Park to participate instead in a day of protest, community, education, creativity and caring. We think this is more valuable than any holiday gift bought at the big box stores. So come out and meet people, make music, dance, make your own crafty holiday gifts, share a potluck, learn about how to shift your shopping to our local economy, bring something to trade at the barter fair and more!

If you check out any news coverage of the event, you can tell they were waiting for conflict. They were quite weary that Occupy Seattle would make a scene.

There was no scene.

We came and danced - a lovely square dance! Everyone passing by could join in and many did. We laughed and twirled around to the live music of fiddlin', banjo, the works. From the faces of everyone, the bystanders and participants, no one was felt negatively towards it.

So much freedom was felt dancing with the community out in the open.

The Really Really Free Market was also worth note. They had set up a booth where there were all sorts of items for the taking. Boxes of apples were also available beneath the glittery craft tables.

After the dance, we made a giant spiral and meditated for 10 minutes followed by the singing of a simple song being backed up by ukulele as we walked around, hand in hand. Silence amidst the crowds of downtown Seattle on the busiest day of the year was a fresh experience.

A bathroom break at Westlake led me to run into Peter and Kirsten, friends that are more so actual friends of Tucker's.

Post-spiral, I connected with a few from Occupy (including Ginger!) and we wandered up to Capital Hill to fill up on phở. This was a lot I was beautifully unfamiliar with - but getting to know them was a pleasure. Robert offered to teach me how to fight on Sunday or Tuesday after seeing my reflexes and repeatedly testing them.

Most of the crew was headed to "the Seattle to Cairo Solidarity March." Not clued in as to what's going on in Cairo? The BBC tells all. Read it. Ginger, Riley (who just got to Seattle from Montana and is on his way to Oregn), and I skittered back down to Pine & 3rd to catch the 5 to the Phinney Neighborhood Center for one of my favourite things to do - contra dancing!

It felt soo good to be back on the dance floor. No longer was I spinning alone in a kitchen. I had others helping me spin and spinning in unison with me. "Maggie, where have you been?" "MAGGIE'S BACK!" "We've all missed you." Goodness, I felt the love. Felt it! And, score!, Eric was there! First off, it's great to see Eric. Second off, Eric's presence means I get a 20 minute ride home instead of the 1 hour and 40 minute bus ride that goes until midnight.

Yes. I'm back in Seattle. Only for a wee bit, but I'm here. And life already feels a bit back to normal. Life is already going going going. I love my city. I am grateful to call Seattle home.

I think I see myself at :47. Then you can definitely see Robert enter from the left at 2:13 in his hat.

Dead Puppies

Happy Thanksgiving from the Hubert Family!

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Merry Christmas from L'Abri!

Merry Christmas from the Students and Helpers at the Canadian L'Abri!

Our 14 foot hemlock dominated, making our spirits jolly and bright.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

L'Abri Christmas 2011 - Coming November 17th

This upcoming Thursday, on the 17th of Novemer, we will be celebrating Christmas at L'Abri.

L'Abri feels like that cozy-Christmas mood with its fires in the stove, cuddly nights in footy-pajamas, meals together, and evenings on couches.

So with that, it only felt fit to celebrate that beloved holiday with the people that feel like family right now.

A run over to St. Vinny's prepared me with a few thrifted gifts that I expect not to be appreciated for their value but something a few side-steps off. What does one say upon unwrapping a Miley Cyrus pillowcase? "Golly gee whiz! This is just what I wanted!"

We'll chop down the tree.
Sing those carols.
And brace ourselves for the final four days, even if only equipped with denial.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Korean High Tea

Sunday evenings at L’Abri have a pretty high excitement potential.

6:30 PM brings on high tea at either the Sheibes’ or Jessica’s cabin.

A theme meal is served followed by some sort of group activity.

Got the gist of it?

Theme meals have included dip night (so many dips - so full in the end), Greek food, and last night we stuffed ourselves with Korean food (thanks to In Young!).

Activities from the past have been the reading of the Brothers Grimm Tales (Clever Hans), Fishbowl, and karaoke.

Yesterday evening, In Young had the chance to share with us the food that she was used to eating. The Canadian diet has required quite a bit of adjusting for her, but for one evening she got in the flavours of home.


Kimbap! Kimchi! Oi, and if only I knew the names of the rest. Spicy chicken with potatoes (I just had the potatoes), cucumbers, eggs, the noodle dish, the beef dish. Corn tea! I now see that sharing what we ate is not all the informative at all.

All in all, is was absolutely delectable. We finished the meal off with a dessert of sweet potatoes (some-sort-of-sauce) and rise with more some-sort-of-other-sauce (caramelized something with soy sauce and cinnamon).

Richie and I conquered the dishes and then traversed back to the main house (we had been at Jessica’s) for karaoke.

I think that last sentence deserves an exclamation mark.

We were quickly cracked out of our shells (ha! as if we had any) as the tunes started to play. We started with two group warm ups. Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles and Cecelia by Simon and Garfunkel (in honour of dear In Young, who’s Catholic name is Cecelia). Clark took the floor from there with a sparkling performance of Joker (I think) and Richie’s rendition of Baby was a memorable site to see. We swayed, rocked, and clapped to Michael Jackson, Faith by George, Home by Edward Sharpe, Sir Duke by Stevie Wonder, Dancing Queen by ABBA, the Most Beautiful Girl in the Room by Flight of the Conchords, Party in the USA by Miley Cirus, Material Girl by Madonna, West End Girls by the Pet Shop Boys, Rock Anthem, something by Adele, and Oh Happy Day from Sister Act II. The night was summed up with a group attempt (with success) of a Whole New World from Aladdin.

Our technology was just projector, a flashlight for a microphone, and a laptop running YouTube.

A search of “Name of Song” plus “karaoke” would bring up several versions of each song, which people had set the lyrics to in video form.

Amusement came with Oh Happy Day’s creator had mistyped the lyrics as, “He watched my sins away!”

Shifty moments came when we realized exactly what these artists were singing in their songs. Words came by we had missed, but now read our loud mid-song, and mid-laugh.

My contributions were Sir Duke and Dancing Queen. Both were done with YouTube videos I was already in. Sir Duke was a lipsynching video I had made back when I was 15 with Jenny Porter. Singing along with my old-self dancing was not only highly amusing, but gave the group a glimpse into who I am at home, or who I was (still am). Dancing Queen was from the flash mob we did back at Swedish Hospital in 2010.

Pardon my dry representation of this evening. I guess I’m better at capturing the documenting of “what” happened, but lack the emotion in the words. How can I write out my over-the-top glee from the night? I guess that’s why we have authors and why I’m more of a photographer myself (although I'm less than satisfied with what I came up with this past karaoke night).


Fall days in Seattle.

Large bowls phở between dark, rainy, leaves orange to perfection at Pioneer Square, waiting for the Light Rail underground, and Seattle just generally reeking of class.

I'm glad In Young got to see my city.
My city?
Yeah, guess it is mine. All mine.
Not quite...

Seattle: Smelling Strangers, Street Dancing, Celebrating 11/11/11 11:11:11

Last night, I was greeted with countless uplifting (literally) solid bearhug-embraces.
I was picked up more in one hour than I have been for the past two months.

Last night, people I didn't recognize called me out, recognizing me from elsewhere, and greeted me with enthusiasm which I quickly returned and eagerly connected with.

Last night, I was enabled to whirl about in an unidentified dancey-dance-fashion as Renee de la Prade played out, "Nerd Love" on her squeezebox. Dips and extensive twirls helped my body feel oh-so-safe again. Unadulterated delight!

Last night, with not knowing if I could get home (my bus stops running at 11:20 or 11:50 PM) I got multiple offers for places to cozy up - from Occupy Seattle to "there's room in the bed for you with the two of us."

Last night, I got to hug strangers and tell them how good they smelled.

Last night, I got to smell that human-smell that I know so well and have missed. Very distinct fragrance of human that I can't pinpoint to anywhere but this group. And when I smell someone who shares the smell, I can immediate associate a league of positive feelings to it.

Last night, I shook a bottle filled with coins in the company of a couple hundred other bottle-shakers.

Last night, I rocked out to the the hit song of the 90s in an alternate paralleled universe, if you imagine. It was so over-sang that it's ingrained into all of our DNA. You need to watch it, all of it, yes, the intro too.. although recorded with a not-so-energized Canadian audience isn't quite up to the norm (excuse them, they're from Toronto) - Hockey Star. Let your inner fan-girl scream! It's HOCKEY STAR!

Last night, Jason Webley's Eleven Eleven Eleven Concert.

Last night, Amanda Palmer.

Last night, Neil Gaiman.

Last night, Evelyn Evelyn.

Last night, the Shook Twins.

Last night, the Petrojvic Blasting Co.

Last night, feathers were thrown from above and giant, giant red balloons bopped around the Moore.

Last night, random beautiful ladies let me touch their clothes.

Last night, I got overchocked with glee.

Last night, I didn't know what to think of this good-bye.

Last night, I celebrated 11/11/11 11:11:11 PM in the company of over a thousand others. Oh how we cheered.

Last night, I was reminded of how beautiful Seattle is and the people there. There is a rich, rich community of artists and contributors who create incredible things. I am loved here. And I love here.

Seattle, what a home you make for me.

If you like magical moments of singing together with other thousand....

And if you like impromptu covers of Take On Me with an accordion...

Friday, November 11, 2011

Brother Unit. Sister Unit.

Brother Unit and Sister Unit.

But to my parents, we're the Son and Daughter Unit.

Siblings since 1990 - we like to tell stories in under a minute or two.
He just turned 24 yesterday and I've been 21 since September but haven't seen him since before then.

I've been living on an island up in Canada and he's been wandering the streets of Amsterdam on and off this past fall, prepping to be there for 7 months next year (and I get to visit him in the Spring!).

But yesterday on 11/10/2011 we were in the same place at the same time for the first time in a few months.

It was pretty great to see him. Tonight we're going to the Jason Webley concert.

I have a lot of respect for this guy.

Brought Back A Bit of L'Abri to Seattle

In coming back to Seattle, I had the honour of being accompanied by one of my close L'Abri-mates, In Young of Korea.

It definitely brought a bit of ease to the transition and made me appreciate my small city all the more. We went for a walk around my village 20,500 to show her what we had. A five minute walk brought us to the park that any visitor is obliged a visit to.

She was the perfect travel companion and wandered with me with the perfect level of enthusiasm.

I introduced her to Kenmore's bamboo grove or St. Vinny's - the local thrift store.

A few more stops and then we parted, her for Seattle (for some solo explorations) and me for Country Village with my mother unit to look at things we had no interest in buying.


Monday, November 7, 2011

Just Might Stay Here a Bit Longer

Word is, on the street, that I just might stay on this island a wee bit longer than originally planned.

I may stay here till around the 21st of December.

I may come back here in January.

Well, that's what the word on the street is. First one is very very very likely. Second one needs some prayer.

Bowen Island suits me just fine.

Sometimes I Think I'm Normal and that ADHD/SPD Is Just In My Head Until...

There are times when I start to think that I’m normal and that SPD and ADHD was just in my head and that, in reality, I’m like everyone else.

I start to think that all those sensory issues I’ve had were just an exaggeration and if I wanted to, I could stop having them.

And then I have nights like Halloween night and days like yesterday.

On Halloween night, SPD shined and yesterday was when my ADHD, un-medicated, could not be contained.

Halloween night started with changing in schedules, the unpredictability of plans, and a few truck-loads of stimulation. After dinner we were told we would leave in some 9 minutes to check out Halloween on Bowen Island. This is after the entire afternoon, a Monday, had been all flipped around. A bike ride had helped keep me pretty calm.

Halloween on Bowen Island deserves a post of itself - it’s huge here. The biggest holiday they celebrate.

In the dark, flashing lights met my eyes as we wandered and there was a lot of bumping into people. I was doing fine, though, and felt ok. I sensed I could be getting off as I found myself charging on and feeling peculiar emotions, but blamed it on other things. The fireworks were loud and bright, but beautiful and I didn’t feel bothered by them. But it was the leaving, after the fireworks, that I started to feel like I was being overstimulated.

It’s like I have a stimulation limit - where it all builds up until I’m brinking on feeling dysfunctional. It’s like I’m trying, trying to be normal and not react, without knowing it, and using so much strength to do so and then the damn breaks and all lets loose.

The moment that damn was broken, I began to charge home - head down and legs extended. I pressed ahead of everyone, not saying a word. My mind was set on isolation and trying to re-achieve the calm. A serendipitous moment brought us home and raised the spirits a bit, but then the dirty kitchen brought on another wave of burbling in my body.

Melanie and I were the only ones at home, thank goodness, so I was still able to sort of function.

She got to work making “fantastic” (muesli) and I decided to tackle the mountain of dishes. One touch of the water and I flinched unvoluntarily. An attempt to start and I my hands shook.

I ran to the bedroom, grabbed my headphones and music and brought it back. Blasting out tunes from the Yesburger Band (thank you Devon) my nerves started to settle as they do when music is played. Two songs on repeat, I was able to start mastering the dishes - hyperfocusing to the best of my capabilities. I just had to  get them done and then I could skitter to the bedroom to isolation.

A full meltdown was averted, but it certainly was a wake up call.

“Margaret. You are not normal.”

I had begun to think that, maybe, maybe I didn’t really have SPD.
But I don’t see anyone else reacting like me to the chaos and dishes.

This isn’t a mournful re-realization. It’s sort of like you're on a road and for a while you forget what road you were on but then you see a sign that announces it out very loud and clearly.

As soon as people were coming home, go to my room I did and hermited the night away with my laptop. I tried to be social for a short bit (2 minutes, if that, be proud) before taking refuge on my bunk.

Blind-folded and ears safely covered, I slipped into sleep. My body relaxing, recovering, and repairing. Sleep, Maggie, sleep.

The next day, once again, my schedule was ever-so skewed. With childcare in the morning and child-sitting in the morning and studying in the evening, somehow I forgot to take my medication.

By the time I remembered, lunch, I think I could have taken it then but I forgot, once again, to take them and by the time it was time to study, it was too late.

My impulsive, true self was already in action during lunch. Speaking up without hesitation (luckily I don’t think I said anything I ought not have). Being me. Being Maggie.

It was time to study and that didn’t seem in the slightest bit possible. I set my books out... and then saw some thread. I tried. Failed. Tried.

Tea time!

I skittered to the kitchen, a bit discouraged, but there was a friend! I sprawled onto the kitchen counter and we spoke back and forth.

One of the members of the community had come back from a four-day trip away. He had unfamiliar facial hair - in the process of being startled by the abnormality of it, I hid my face (fight? flight? flight) on the counter. A quick hug with continued avoidances of looking - I felt like I was in elementary school again, seeing my mother were new glasses on (I used to be very distrubed when she would get new glasses).

Post-tea time, well, any attempt to work was still futile. I biked around the property, worked with photographs, and snatched up the opportunity to run across the entire campus yelling, “IN YOUNG! IN YOUNG! VISA!”

My brain was everywhere.
My impulses were uninhibited.

Small flails, talking to myself. Stuttering and the wandering around without a purpose.

Margaret - you have ADHD.

Don’t worry , I don’t mind. I just sometimes forget I have it. I don't consider myself a victim. I don't wish I wasn't who I am now.

Sometimes I think I am ever so normal, ever so like the others. And somedays I’m fine without medication or with stimulation.

But this evening and day, well, it was just a little pat on the head for me.

Today I’m all drugged up though and feel really mellow.. notice I just typed all of this out without any stopping or hesitation.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Seattle For a Wee Bit

I’m going home on Wednesday for four days and four nights.
Bowen Island to Kenmore.
Canada to the United States of America.

Home to Home.

L’Abri does feel like home now.

Anyways - it’s my dear grandparent’s 60th anniversary and I am eager to attend. 60 years is an incredible amount of time and I want to be a part of that celebration.

This will be my first test run in leaving L’Abri, though. A glimpse into what it will be like when I come home in November or December (not sure yet).

One thing I’m glad about is that I can take home some of my belongings (my bike and giant suitcase).  I’ll drag home some sweaters, a jacket, shampoo - all that I can be without for a week. Hopefully what I will be left with is just a backpack - not too heavy.

I am trying to build up excitement for going home - a way of easing the transition for me. Transitions can often be rough and uncomfortable, and if I can get my emotions ahead of me to pad the change, then it just might be easier.

So here we have it - a list of things I am looking forward to when I am home - this list not only pertains to my four days but the following months after the term is over.

1. Making my own food. I love L’Abri and it’s wonderful food (delicious, homemade, well rounded), but I am looking forward to taking care of my own dietary needs. More quinoa. More beans. More vegetables. Smaller portions.

Come on, there has to be a number two.

I feel horrible not putting my parents on here - I do miss them, I really do. But when I was 16, I left for a solid year and didn’t see them. I love being around them, but 3 months doesn’t seem like all that long to be gone. Ah, let’s put them on the list anyways.

2. My family.

3. All the spontaneous things to do in Seattle. Flash mobs. Concerts. Gatherings.

But do I really miss them that much? I’ve love learning to have this secluded life where entertainment happens in the living room with those I live with. I enjoy not stressing about getting around to this event or that or about missing out on something.

4. Contra dancing.

Seriously miss it - but I do have Morris Dancing here on this island.

5. Playing music out loud - recorded music.

6. Being able to wake up on my own terms.

Although I think, by now, I do like waking up with others. I enjoy waiting till Melanie gets out of the top bunk before I leave my lower one.

There really isn’t all that much I desire from my old life. Not much I miss. Although, I don’t dread going back or anticipate miserableness.

Thursday, November 3, 2011


Today I got to spend 8 hours with three little wonders (ages two, four, and five and eleven twelfths).
The man in the sweater is not one of the little wonders, he's Matthew - neighbour and friend.
The third wonder was taking a nap.

We scoured the forest for fungus so we could get some spore prints.

"Maggie! It's a parasol mushroom," the four-year-old rightly announced to me.
The forest was littered with fungi and they eagerly darted from clump to cluster.

Nine hours later and I still enjoy spending time with children as much as I do in America.
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