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Tuesday
Jul152014

July is The Jackal

Oh frabjous day when the next installment of a beloved story (The Book of Life, yes!!) shows up in plain cardboard just inside the front gate!

Oh beloved month of July, when hours and hours of each day are spent watching the Tour de France!

Dear people, here's your warning. For the next week or so, you might want to refrain from interrupting me, or you will hear me say these words:

Are you talking to me during The Jackal?

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Monday
Jul142014

Country Mouse Monday: bee-licious!

Oh my, so much has happened recently. Well, not happened exactly, as if it just did it all on its own. Allow me to re-phrase.

Oh my, I’ve made so much stuff happen recently!

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Friday
Jun202014

Making a living from love

Anyone who’s spent any amount of time with me since the remarkable weekend I spent at Misfit Con has heard me go on and on about the conference. I still can’t stop talking about it. And it’s not just coming out my mouth. Nope. The greatest thing is how that experience is continuing to express itself in every single thing I do now. It’s true:

I am forever changed.

The biggest thing is that I think I am actually doing something I wrote about at least a year ago, when I wondered in a Facebook status, “could I make a living out of enthusiasm?”

Thanks to that long weekend in Fargo, North Dakota with a hundred or so new friends and co-conspirators, I’m taking it a step further.

I’m making a living from love.

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Monday
Jun162014

Country Mouse Monday: this little piggy went to market

In a couple of weeks, my Blissbug wares – beeswax candles and salves and lipbalms – will be for sale for the first time in a local store. This is huge. I am completely a-buzz.

I’m not even selling my stuff yet -- um, I am still producing it and figuring out the pricing and the display, and and -- and already I’m experiencing such interesting tension between what my vision is and what other people think it should be.

I didn’t expect to feel so challenged, so questioned, so annoyed, but then it dawned on me:

All that squeezing, pushing pressure is forcing me to make diamonds.

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Thursday
Jun122014

Twenty FIVE Years of Love

On May 26, 1989, Katherine and I went to a party hosted by an old, old friend of mine from the French school whom I'd run into at San Francisco State where I was a graduate student in Russian Language and Literature.  Nicholas lived on Fulton, directly across from the Jefferson Airplane house, in a flat shared with other students.  I picked Katherine up after dropping off The Kid, then 1 ½, at my parents' in the Castro.  I had on a favorite black vintage dress with lace trim at the collar and hips and black Sacha London cowboy booties (still have them).

I was 26.

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