Night

I always feel like blogging late at night, when I'm almost ready to go to bed. Then I don't, because, well, I'm tired. And this bed of mine, wow, it calls to me so loudly.

But tonight, I am downstairs, on the comfiest couch in Seattle, looking out over the city, listening to Rosie Thomas' Christmas album. It's my "happy music." I listen to it in the summer--it's that good. She calms me.

Anyway, tonight, after a strange and crazy day of saying goodbye to my boss, I feel so peaceful and thankful and joyful. This last year has been so many things. I don't know where to begin, and am overwhelmed with emotion. I'll write more on that later, when I have had the space.

I love this song, because it repeats, "Christmas come, and please don't be late...Christmas come, can't stand the wait, so please don't be late...Christmas come, the world cannot wait, so please don't be late." I love these lines. For all the doubt and uncertainty and annoyance and anger and confusion I have about faith lately, I still love these lines. For their longing and hope and truth. I feel the ache of the world's broken longing so often. The longing of my own heart for more healing and hope and beauty. Not that this only comes at Christmas. I know it doesn't. Maybe I like it because I don't like being late...

I also don't post at night when I want to go to bed because I feel somewhat incoherent. Who says I need to be?! Okay.

I love Rosie. I love my house. And our view. And my new pizza stone. And my friends and brother and papa and family dinner and Farmor and headbands and comfy couches and late night peace and cozy beds and warm showers and kind words and laughter and Sophia and Hannah and walks and fall colors and really long sentences.

Goodnight! :)

Paradox

I haven't written in a while. Mostly, there seems to be too much to say, or not anything at all. Or I just can't put into words what I think and feel.

I've started a couple posts, only to erase them. I write something and then think, "is that true? Is that how I feel?"

My life feels filled with tensions.

I seek intimacy--yet am so fearful of being exposed.
I want time by myself--yet feel lonely.
I love my job one day--hate going to work the next.
I want direction in my life--yet don't want to commit to anything.
I desire change and stability.
Being with kids feels so joyful and exhausting.
I feel spread thin, and like I have nothing to do.
I don't want to be an adult, and want to be 10 again.
I love laughing and crying.

Ok. Some of these are Ok. There are more, and I can't think of them. But I don't blog because I feel like different Liv's, different days. And it stresses me out because I want to be congruent. I am. But I am not concise. Someone give me a topic--I'll blog about that!

Fall

Ok, I'm feeling slightly back to normal.

Meaning: I cooked myself dinner tonight, and tomorrow night: card making! Liv is back.

I haven't been feeling like doing either of these things lately, which is strange, considering I LOVE both! Summer seemed to have disrupted my schedule, rhythm, desires, etc. Either it was too hot to cook or make cards, or I wanted to play outside, or I was just plain tuckered out (Papa, did I get this phrase from you???).

Today feels like Fall. We've had soup in the bakery the last couple days (pumpkin!). It's cooler out (I was wearing my teddy bear of a jacket today around the house...). There's not so much damn daylight all the time. And I am happy to say that I want to cook again.

So tonight, because I had zucchini dominating our fridge, I decided to see if my favorite cooking blogger, Joy the Baker, had zucchini recipes. Yup! Zucchini pancakes! Oh my. The eating is still in progress. I added some of my own ingredients, too, and they are delicious. She's good.

And I still have a GIANT bowl of shredded zucchini. Tomorrow--zucchini sweet potato bread. Watch out.

I realized in the last couple days that I feel weighed down when I have a to-do list in the back of my mind. I think being an adult is so ridiculous and energy consuming. And half the time I feel like I'm faking adulthood, anyway. For example, I've had our old TV on the porch for the last few/several months. It's tacky. We're like one of those nice houses you walk by and whisper, "such a beautiful house...why do they leave their shit on the front porch?" To make it better, I fished out this incredibly beautiful red chair out of the dumpster at work because it's missing legs and I decided to make our front porch its new home. Right. I like to give myself projects and not do them. How simple is it to put my TV in the car and drive down to Goodwill? I'm not an advocate for negative self-talk, but come on, Liv. Also, this chair, I'm telling you, is beautiful. Today I told my boss I wanted to make it into a rocking chair. She said I can't because I don't have babies. I'll show her.

So my other project tonight: take old TV to Goodwill. I'll let 'cha know how it goes.

Oh fall, I love you.

Known and be known

Lately I've been thinking about known-ness. Being known. Knowing. Feeling known. Wanting to be known. Not being known.

I feel like I'm on a roller-coaster of known-ness. Some days I feel known and so thankful to be known. Other days I feel like an island or as if I am unknowable (I think, is this because I am an "I"?). After all, isn't it one of the greatest feelings to know one is known?

I hate to feel unknown!

And I love to feel known. And loved. I knew a guy who said what we all want most is to be known and loved. He said it so often that I thought, "blah blah blah"...and I am realizing how true this is, at least in my own life. It is when I am known and loved that I feel most alive. And here's the thing, too, is that I am known and loved whether I feel this on a particular day. Yet I like to feel it. That's important, right?

I think I'm having a pre-fall slump. I am low on inspiration, energy and general feelings of loving my life. I want to love my life again!

Like always, Sophia Bazzi makes things better. Tonight I went over to babysit and she was like a little actress. We played "The Storm" from "The Little Mermaid" on the ipod, and she gave me a play-by-play of what was happening during the musical sequence. It was amazing. I think she's the cutest thing in the world. Her sister Hannah's a close second, maybe. Holding her is one of my top five favorite things right now.

Tomorrow I am going to make a pizza. I haven't made a pizza in far too long and my hands need to.

My 2nd Liv

Today here's what happened:

I met another Liv. This was the 2nd time I've met another woman named Liv. Both times, I have been giggly and ridiculous and so excited. I feel like there are these common bonds around shared names. Maybe it's just mine? I'll ask my friends. I instantly wanted to be Liv's friend. She seemed so sweet and fun and I cannot tell you how fun it was to say "Hi Liv!" and "Bye Liv!" and "Nice to meet you Liv!" I think I used her name too many times because I thought it was so fun to say. I felt like I was talking to myself or something.

What is it about names, anyway? They are so powerful. Do we grow into our names? Or are our parents just really good at looking at us when we're hours old, saying, "yes, she's definitely a ____". One day this pregnant woman came into the bakery, put her hands on her baby belly and said, "She feels like a Lorelai." Wow. That's just something else.

I love names. I love saying people's names. I love it when I can remember someone's name. Or they remember my name. I love nicknames.

Also, today I played with Sophia and Hannah. Sophia is so big now. She's 2 and a half. I started babysitting her when she was 6 months. Now Hannah's in the world, too, and she may just be the cutest baby I have ever seen. Except when she cries. When she's about to cry, she scrunches her face up and it's the weirdest face I've ever seen. It's like she's morphing into some monster or something. I swear. BUT, when she's not doing this, or crying, she's adorable. I will put her in my pocket.

Today Soph and I drew cupcakes with crayons (she got the biggest cupcake, proclaiming, "because I'm a big girl!"...what does that make me?), made cookies with play-doh, and mastered a few puzzles. In case I haven't shown you the video of Soph singing to me on my Birthday, here it is (prepare yourselves for a cute attack).

http://picasaweb.google.com/sophiabazzi/LivBirthday?authkey=Gv1sRgCMeV1oHsreb7cg#

I'll end with that. :) Night night.

Sammie Pinkerton

Today was Columbia City Farmer's Market day.

But it was more than that.

It was Columbia City Farmer's Market day with Suzannah! Oh yeah!

And guess what?

We bought a whole salmon! A beautiful, adorable, big, fresh salmon. His name is Sammie Pinkerton. Sammie, obviously, because he is a salmon. And Pinkerton, well, because he's a pink salmon. I've wanted to buy a whole salmon in Seattle since I moved here two years ago. And today was the day!














Oh Sammie, you are beautiful. And so delicious.

I also got:

- kale
- peaches
- sweet red pepper gouda (are you kidding me?! Yum.)

Wow. I am pretty happy right now.

Lately I've been all about all things restorative. Monday I took a much needed hike in Larabee State Park, close to Bellingham. I felt like I needed to drive, drive, drive. So I did. Then I hiked. Hiked, hiked, hiked. And then I sat on a bench, overlooking the San Juan islands, reading Anne Lamott. I had this consuming sense of peace, the kind I feel like I only read about in books on prayer or discipline. I was on a mountain, so I'm guessing that helped my perspective.

Then I got to play with Bethany. Always restorative.

Then I drove home. More good alone time. Plus good tunes.

I want to take care of myself well. Sometimes I don't know how to do this. Or I do, and am too busy listening to other voices, trying to please everyone, etc. to give myself needed space. When I was on the mountain the other day, I realized how difficult it is for me to settle down, sometimes. I kept wanting to move around, get up, check my e-mail (sick). I wasn't upset that I felt restless; I more just noticed. So I let myself be a little panicky, and then I eventually became comfortable with the quiet and could be still. I guess it makes sense that this takes time. But it does make me sad that it's more difficult to be in a state of rest than it is to be moving around always.

Ok. I'm tired and signing off. So much for ending gracefully. Ha! This one's for you, Sammie Sam!

Friday night

I drove home last night from a lovely dinner with Farmor (my grandma). I like to take the long way home sometimes, when I feel particularly not excited to go home, feel like listening to music in the car, or want to avoid the lights and noise of busier streets. Shuffle played an excellent compilation last night--which is always a plus. Sometimes it's like Shuffle knows me. Like, knows me knows me. Creepy.

Maybe it was the end of a long week. Maybe my period is on its way. Who knows. But I could not stop crying. This is not something extremely unusual. But last night, my tears were overwhelming me because there were too many things making my heart break. I hate it when I get sad about really big problems, or the human condition (which is a really big problem), or all the meanness in the world. I got sad about these things:

- people hurting each other
- people being selfish
- all the people who are lonely
- when people can't listen
- people who don't love themselves
- people who try to control others

I can't write it all, because I don't remember some of it. Or I just don't want to be sad all over again, today, on a beautiful Saturday.

So I will remember dinner with Farmor. And how she makes me laugh. And how she bought me the cutest little plaid dress for my Birthday. And how, whenever I go over to see her, she always has little "projects" for me, like typing up recipes or emails or putting the pictures in her computer into a folder. These things make me happy.