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To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.  ~Emily Dickinson

In order to really be able to be well-rounded you must be able to compartmentalize your life. There is work, which always tries to encroach on your every available minute. There is your partner, who you want to spend time with doing things other than listing out who is doing what and when. There is your child who you enjoy, don’t want to miss, and yet whose energy levels seem to only emphasize how low yours seem. There is sleep. There is exercise. There are the dogs of course. And the cat. And there are friends. There is family. There is correspondence to write. There is reading time. There is fun time. There is dancing time.

How the hell is it possible to do any of this is what I want to ask you. I’ve missed yoga twice because of work. I’ve not spoken to a friend in it seems like forever unless it was a halting conversation conducted over a two minute window of opportunity. And last night I went to dinner with T for the first time in a million moons and although we were thrilled to be out to eat, grandma watching Tin sleep, we had two good hours before we were both falling asleep at the table.

The Lafitte Greenway project is underway and there will be another hike on the 8th in support of this project. I’m giving this project a big thumbs up.

But one small sigh – the overgrown field that is now being kept mowed as they get ready to begin the project. Last year, when no one was mowing, it became a field of black eyed susans.

The visceral connection – a mother told me the other day that she doesn’t know how to tune out her kid’s cries. I said I have the same problem, it’s like a stomach clench that doesn’t go away until they stop crying. Similarly, and thankfully, the opposite is true, the laughter and squealing is highly contagious!

We were visiting friends the other day and their sandbox became a focal point for Tin. The dad told me that the sandbox actually calmed his son down and so I thought what a great idea. So we ordered a sandbox and it arrived today and I set it up. LOVES IT.

I was speaking to a friend who has been reading a vast array of books on religion and trying to figure out some things in his mind. We started on a meandering conversation that traversed when he taught self-defense to almost having to use it in his posh subdivision when some nutball tried to run his wife off the road as she was pulling into the driveway. In self-defense you get inside the mind of your opponent and understand that what motivates him is very different from anything you are experiencing. I asked him about something that I had been experiencing, as in my approach is to find unity with all people and not discord. To that end in yoga, I have recently dedicated my practice to someone I work with who I wanted to feel more human towards, I dedicated another practice to a family member who I feel is challenged.

We also talked about mushrooms that made depressed people feel more connected to human beings – although in a lateral conversation with other friends we determined that mushrooms just might only make you more of what you are – so if you do want to kiss everyone all the time, then you want to do it without hesitation on mushrooms but if you are paranoid then you become ragingly paranoid on mushrooms.

But instead of reading about religion, perhaps it is better to study other areas such as in yoga when you are doing your practice and dedicating it to someone you perceive is negative, then your positive should neutralize them because in math a positive and negative cancel out a charge. But you could also imagine that you might just know so very little about what is going on in the world and accept mystery – that for instance you could sit here and believe that most people are inherently good and that evil is an aberration and that our life is scripted for us in advance and then suddenly from the sky could come aliens who decide to farm humans and eat us like lollipops and in their world lizards are king. I mean who knows?

But for now I think it is safe to say as one Talmudic scholar summed it up – do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

There is a 30% chance of rain on Friday and a 50% chance of thunderstorms on Saturday and guess what is happening – JAZZ FEST! Now I know for some that means muddy, yucky and unfavorable conditions, but that is a good thing as a friend reminded me this morning, because rain keeps away crowds, even the hint of rain means those who melt will stay far away.

I was looking through the schedule and for Simon & Garfunkel so far 2,600 people have signed up for saying they will see that one event. That is a fraction of the 100K that could show up at the Fairgrounds on Saturday. But if it rains, well all bets are off.

Ideal conditions would be ugly portents of rain, lots of Weather Channel talk of rain, then nada. That would at least shave off the weak from the strong Jazz Festers.

I was walking the dogs this morning and ran into a friend, a talented artist, and she was asking me about Tin. I said he is fabulous, beyond wonderful. I told her that he gives me a new understanding of my mother and she repeated, having two children of her own, the old adage, that you don’t know until you have one what it’s like to be a mother. And she’s right. When I think that my mother was barely 20 years old when she met my father and married him, and inherited four sons, and then had two daughters before she was 23 years old meaning that she had six kids by 25, it’s insane.

My friend said just the fact that my mother and her oldest child were 12 years apart was astounding. “Imagine trying to be an authority figure in that situation?”

It just sinks my heart, my poor beautiful mother, so young, so trapped! OMG. It’s hard to imagine.

I was reading through some letters we had sent back and forth while I was in California. In the early 90’s, mom and I had a rift as I vehemently endorsed my independence and her culpability into everything that was wrong with the world. Good grief. If I could go back in time and slap myself, I would.

What was in my mother’s mind? So young, so beautiful, and so naive as she traveled to New Orleans and married a Cuban Jew and was swept off to live in Havana during a time when the island was hot hot hot! Ay yi yi – the tales she had to tell. Like being pregnant with me out to here, and seeing the 14 year old gum smacking guerillas come to get Batista’s bodyguard on the next floor up as he paced with his giant German Shepherd back and forth.

I know my mom is looking down and smiling now as I care for Tin. She wouldn’t be saying, “Uh huh, you see!” that wasn’t her style, she’s saying, “Enjoy it honey, it goes by so fast.”

Bill Baird
Tharp Sontheimer Funeral Home
1600 N. Causeway Boulevard
Metairie, LA 70001

Re: Pat Namer Funeral

Dear Bill:

As I explained today, my sister is the executrix of my mother’s estate. At the time my mother was admitted to the hospital she had an annuity that could have covered her prepaid funeral expenses, which my sister deposited into her own personal account. My sister did not execute the will in accordance with my mother’s desires as she left town with items my mother had willed me (thankfully my mother was smart enough to give me most of what was in her will before she died). In addition, my mother left us an insurance policy of $6000 split evenly between my sister and me. I assume that this money was to use for her funeral.

On December 2^nd, when I arrived at the funeral home for my mother’s service, I felt I was shanghai’d in the midst of my bereavement into signing a document that I had no business signing as I was not in charge of handling my mother’s financial matters.

However, as her daughter, I do feel responsible for half of the funeral expenses and believe that my mother left a policy to me to help pay my share. So I’m enclosing $4,042.41, which is half of the costs.

I’m sorry that you have to deal with my sister, but I will also assure you that I will not be responsible or liable for her share of the funeral cost.

Thank you,

Rachel Dangermond

I’ve been thinking about the crowds lately – how perhaps I abhor them to a certain degree. I even thought we’d leave town next French Quarter Fest and maybe rent out our house to people who had better stamina to endure the crowds who come to New Orleans to hear free, amazing music. And here it is the week of Jazz Fest, this Friday opens the gates, and I’m excited and yet a little daunted about trying to maneuver with Tin through crowds and heat. So tonight, coming home from the gym, my step instructor back where he belongs, I got a call that James was going to be playing some interesting music over at Bacchanal and so we loaded up the car and headed down there. It was Jon Freilich and James Singleton and I don’t know the drummer but all of them were good and sitting outside on a beautiful New Orleans spring night, with the tiki torches going and a good glass of wine, hearing just fabulous music, I thought here it is, the Jazz Fest you can’t plan for, you can’t schedule for, the one that just happens and makes New Orleans great.

A fun packed weekend ended with Tin’s first canoe ride on the bayou with Aunt Jerri. Ruby and family joined us in their canoe and we tied together and cruised down the bayou. The mayor of the neighborhood and his family were having a picnic on the Magnolia Bridge and then they joined us on their kayaks. There was a crepuscule concert at the Pitot House and we were passing as Charmaine Neville was playing in the garden. It was near sundown and the bayou held all its magic. James played Iko Iko on his cheeks for Tin when he had a meltdown and mesmerized him into submission. I think someone whispered, can you believe how wonderful our neighborhood is?