He Inoa Na Jots

E'elekule

Hey old friend

nou e ko'u hoaloha

For you my friend ... 

We built Vardo For Two in the industrial town of White Center, Seattle. The life we'd known before was in need a major restoration. We needed magic. From the woods came a Forest Magician with life to share with us. Life unexpectedly wild, and upending. 

She lived and died wild, and wondrous. Adaptive and then in the last, most ready to run and fly wild.

To read the whole Name Song for Jots, written in 'Olelelo Hawaii (the Hawaiian language) by our son Christopher Kawika Brown 

click here.

New Moon, New Year

It's my birthday. I've had a cup of birthday brew with a spoonful of "Naked Coconut" Coconut Bliss to begin the day, a beautiful hot shower, a fresh lemon shampoo and toast with sunflower butter. The tropical storm that has drenched my isles of Birth (the Hawaiian Isles) with up to 17 inches of rain on the island of Kauai, is coming this way. Pete has lashed down the porch of the vardo with heavy strapping and drove stakes in the ground to secure our wee home as best he can. A few prayers to the gods will top off our preparation and then we're off on a car ride to pick up a re-fill of glutathione to support my dear lungs and immune system.

When I stepped from the little bathroom with my hair wrapped in my towel turban I found a plain brown envelope tucked beside my coffee cup. Inside a photo of my favorite pirate of the screens stood boldly on a birthday card for me. The card read:

PIRATES tell an ancient Legend of such immeasurable age, that it makes the seas themselves seem Y O u N g. In the story, YOUR NAME comes up quite a bit. Happy BirTHdaY.

iT was my vardo partner Pete, of course.

My keyboard partner has joined me to complete the birthday post. She's purring in for the perfect position (a new one facing me and looking me up and down).

My birthday comes with a new moon this year and a new moon is always filled the potency of possibilities. With a kitty in my lap, coconut bliss in my belly, my home battened down against the storm and a partner who loves me I would say this birthday is off to a very, very good start.

New Normal

JOTS is calmly stretched across my lap with her front paws pushed gently on the inside of my left elbow. She watches as I press the keys on L's keyboard. This is a big and important new normal for the kitty and me: she is inside a house (the basement) and that is a step from being wild and always on the outside looking in. Daisy one of the resident terriers is scratching at the door wanting in ... it's not to happen right now. Kitty in the basement means terriers stay upstairs. What a landmark ocassion for our feline pal, the warmth and inclusion of a settled time within walls!

I was talking with a trusted guide the other day, getting her the latest chapter in our life from the vardo. Somehow the notion of 'normal' came up and in the string of conversation her comment went something like this: "We have to let go of normal with this illness." Yes, if I compare our lives with others the possibility of being like them will fall short. The energy of expecting that normal to be mine just wastes precious joy in the reality of my life as it is. Ah, if I could post a picture of this moment it would save attempting to describe it.

JOTS has moved not an inch, a post grows and the activity of our friends engaged in their business happens. The warmth of her calm breathing and gentle energy soothes both of us. She's helping inspire my calm and that is a norm of great value. Cat energy, animal energy. We did tame her a year ago and are responsible for her for the ever. What a small price to pay, ha.

missing the old hunting ground

The day is just getting into gear here in Everett. Sounds from the friends upstairs tell us the dogs are going to be walked; a woman's voice at this time of the morning means someone new is upstairs (a sister is in town for a family need); revelry has sounded at the base. It is after 8 am.

Across the room Pete and JOTS are getting a chunk of quality stroking time. "She seems a little melancolic. Dreaming about the old hunting grounds are you?" Yup, there's not much for a wild young feline to do here in residential Everett. JOTS questions the sense of a place without a lot of big old Tall Ones (trees) or at least a field with tasty mousies. Her days and nights are spent mostly in the little carrier that is her home. Nestled on familiar towels, sweaters or shirts atop a string of old Christmas tree lights to warm there is that for our kitty. The coos and loving voiced conversation is what I hear. What I can't hear from this desk is the purring replies.

There is a wisdom to our kitty's acceptance of what is. Like I've said before, lucky us.