1/01/2004 -1/30/2004

Tuesday, January 20, 2004
I drove the long route today. The one that goes past Cherry Valley to Duvall. Then across Snoqualmie Valley, up the hill to Woodinville. I pass dairies, rock quarries, and nurseries. The rockery with rocks stacked on top of each other in Dr. Suess towers is my favorite. Whimsy always feeds the soul.The cows don't stir. The birds don't sing. A faint promise of dawn turns the eastern sky from black to deep purple. On the other side of Cherry Mountain the sky must already be a deep shade of blue. The only signs of life are the overgrown fireflies flying down an asphalt path.As the car climbs the winding path, twisting among the trees . . . my heartbeat slows . . . my thoughts gather to disappear. The trees are old, gnarled, enveloped in moss. Sunlight rarely penetrates. This is my hidden pleasure.This tangled, untouched patch of forgotten vale speaks of age, speaks of nature molding beauty by its own eye, not man's. The trees call out to the elfin ones who live here. No mortal man could easily walk these roots entwined on a bed of deep compost. Only the elfin can maneuver. I choose the long way on Monday mornings. The trees give me strength. The elves give me silent passage. Perspective is regained. My life is lived for the spiritual calmness, the creative vibrancy. The forest unexplored.
Posted by: CJ / 12:13 AM
Friday, January 16, 2004
Call me Barista Queen! I float upon the zen of a java sea. Yesterday one of our baristas called out sick. Besides finding elusive St. Valentine's Day merchandise, I now had the privilege of covering Chris' lunch and breaks.I arrive before Chris' lunch begins and we agree I need a crash course before he leaves, as I have only made coffee during training - months ago. He said not to worry as I would be just backing up Jana. I said no, Jana wasn't here. He said then I would be backing up Ben. I said, nooo, Ben wasn't here either. I was it. I was the only other person in the store who knew how to pull a shot. His face blanched. I received one serious, fast-paced course. I thought he was preparing me for the Java Olympics. His training paid off. At one point in the evening I had five drinks lined up and I didn't panic. I stayed steady at the helm. What a rush.I actually made stuff that people consumed. This from someone who considers a kitchen a torture chamber. I didn't leave cafe until 8:30 PM as we kept getting slammed. One wave after another.Northwest coffee drinkers are a unique breed. They are veerry specific about their coffee, and they want it faster than a meal at McDonald's. One could mistake java for caviar in the Northwest.I went home satisfied that I can still pull a learning curve out of my hat.And I am still trying to get coffee grinds out from under my fingernails.
Posted by: CJ / 12:02 AM
Saturday, January 10, 2004
The bookstore has returned to its normal pace. The shelvers are busy restocking bare shelves, customers are buying books for themselves, and booksellers have time to laugh with each other.Each of us is responsible for different "zones" in the store. Before, I had zone 5 which included crafts, house and home, art, architecture, gardening, photography, and travel. I loved spending quiet time in the winter getting to know my charges. I likened zone 5 to an orphanage. I took care of the books until they could be adopted and enjoyed by someone. My job was to match books to the right owners. I spent time with customers, listening to their needs, making recommendations. Now I have bargain and gift. Bargain is to zone 5 as a New York subway station is to a rural bus station. Customers breeze through looking for bargains, not a perfect fit. They push, jostle, and have no need for your opinion.Today I finished resetting bargain after the Christmas rush. I spent ten hours reaching around legs, errant children, and patiently answering the question, "Does 50% off mean off the sticker price?"My muscles ache. I did not work out. I took a nap when I arrived home. The only interaction I want is with a book.Hark. I hear one calling me now.
Posted by: CJ / 10:08 PM
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Christmas is tucked away in boxes. To sit another year. Every year I pledge to have everything done by Thanksgiving. I failed. Quite well, I might add. This year almost did me in. A new position at work, Brad working overtime. Austin starting college. Jessica's errant work schedule. Christmas occurred in one day. We made it a good day. Jessica did not get home until after 4 pm. Austin, Brad, and I spent the day sipping coffee, listening to Christmas music, and watching the lights on the tree. I even snuck in some reading as Brad cooked.Each year I vow to get the decorations out of storage, and each year I don't find all of them. Our tree usually has lights with Star Trek ornaments on it. This year, okay, every year for the past three, I can't find the lights. Every year I end up buying lights at the last minute. Last minute means buying whatever is left on the shelf at Fred Meyer's. This year that meant blue and purple outside lights. Only the purple lights look pink when on. No one got around to putting the Star Trek battle up.I asked everyone who had time, whether they enjoyed Christmas or not. Everyone who had a family said no. The majority of people said stress took the fun away. Customers expressed more anger than good cheer.This coming year will be different. I am reclaiming Christmas. I want more time to talk to loved ones. I want to see the boat parade. I want to attend midnight mass. I want being instead of buying. I want to light a candle for loved ones who warm my soul.
Posted by: CJ / 10:47 PM
Wind whirls the snow around me. Difficulty keeping my eyes open. No horizon, only white. Seattle is in the midst of a snowstorm. Gold Bar may have snow falling or the wind is only redistributing what the sky already gave, I can't tell. I sweep the front steps. A dragon could be flying towards me right now and I wouldn't know. With the wind stretching powerfully, I imagine they are sleeping on Mt. Index, one eye open to the beauty below. Watching the top of a snow globe just turned.
Posted by: CJ / 3:08 PM
Sunday, January 04, 2004
I stand outside as snow falls quietly around. All noise is muzzled to silence. I can hear my heart. Each beat reminds me of the ones I love, the ones who will always have a place. Thank you.
Posted by: CJ / 12:26 AM
Friday, January 02, 2004
You notice his eyes. Blue, green, yellow, and brown all mixed together. I am reminded of a brook where the water eddies slowly. Moss covered rocks cover the bottom with sunshine piercing from above. Blue water swirling around. His eyes are unusual as a light appears to shine from behind. The lines around his eyes accentuate them like a frame, drawing your vision to them. They remind me of my father's eyes. His always appeared to have a light shining out also. Next, I notice his smile. From ear to ear. The easy smile of someone who lives life without grudges, without judgment. His hair is cut close and what shows is speckled with white. His face shows someone who has been outdoors much of the time.Before me is a man who is middle-aged and has lived a hard life, but all I see is a small boy who loves life and considers everyone he meets a friend.We embrace. After all these years I still find it odd that he is taller than me. Most of the time that I spent with him, he was quite smaller than me.This man is my littler brother. Out of nowhere he appeared at the store last Tuesday night, 9:40 pm. He has stopped in before, but never when I was there.We sit and talk. I can't stop looking at his eyes. The light from his eyes is radiant. I let him know I have to start closing the store in a few minutes, but we can chat for ten minutes. We hastily compare schedules and tentatively make plans to have dinner on a Monday evening, just Keith and I.We catch up on the usual. Then I mention his daughter wrote about the Christmas trees from her childhood. They were unusual as my brother hung them from the ceiling and walls to keep small children safe. He immediately started explaining how he cut a hole in the ceiling, hung the tree, and watered it from above. I am totally uninterested in the how, only the effect of my statement.At the mere mention of his daughter's name, his face lights up, no - glows. Every muscle in his body stands taller, the weariness gone. He does not have to tell me he loves his daughter, his body confesses all. His love reminds me he has always loved freely. Truly, unconditionally. If my brother loves you, he does not need reminders, letters, contact. He loves you. Period. Many years ago, I requested a meeting with Keith with the expressed desire to meet more often, for our young families to spend more time together. He told me he didn't want to. That we met as often as he felt he needed. I went home to Brad, crestfallen, but not wanting to push myself on anyone, I let it be. Shortly afterward, we moved to Tucson and then to Anchorage. In essence, we have not had regular contact for over ten years.In the interim, I have learned to live in the moment, without everything planned out in advance. I am content to have my brother, who owns no phone, suddenly appear and just as quickly, disappear.I can accept his sudden appearance without judgment, without feeling slighted at his absence. His appearance brings joy, delight, a reminder to enjoy the ones you love, without conditions, without strings attached. A young boy and girl enter a room filled with adults. The boy runs up to everyone talking. They laugh and remark how delightful he is. The girl holds back, shy, watching the boy light up the room. She is not jealous, just wishing she were not so shy, wishing she had the easy way of delighting adults as her little brother does.I am filled with warmth and love when Keith comes running into my life. He still retains the heart of his childhood. For that he is blessed.
Posted by: CJ / 5:17 PM