half pint.

My mom's house.
Let me paint this picture fo you.
Little House on the Prairie meets Yogi Ashram...Throw in the Rainman in nicotein withdrawl and you've pretty much got a day in the life...
It's beautiful here. But cold. I'm wrapped in my sleeping bag right now. We had a fire last night. It's been rainy but I can see the sun creeping out through the clouds and think we are going to climb Blue Hill today, if the weather holds out.
The air is clean and salty. Not Like Wilmington, or the Jersey sore. Salty but different, somehow.
We went to the farmer's market and bought used books. I got A Seperate Piece and Walden. I know, completely cliche, but I figured I should just go with it :)
In the mornings my mom and I walk Marly dog around the yard while we drink fair trade coffee and she points out plants in her garden and lots of rocks. Stonington/Deer Isle is a giant piece of granite. There are rocks evreywhere! And Kelly, I can't help but think of you everytime I see one :) I miss you tons!
We celebrated our birthdays last night, mine and Hillary's. They aren't until August but we are never in the same place at the same time so my mom wanted to take advantage of the situation. We made lobster and Strawberry Rhubarb Pie for dessert. (My mom's very first pie EVER in 55 years on earth. It was DELICIOUS!!!) We picked Rhubarb from the garden. Apparently the leaves are poisonous. But you can eat the stalks.
Living on the edge, I tell you.
And we drink well water but we have to drink from a certain tap because there is arsenic in it. Long ago the legal limits were 50parts/ to a billion, but now there is no tolerance of my mom's 16. So we use the water from spicket "B" and go on our merry little way.

::A la Carte::
We made vegan pizza. The cheese doesnt melt, but it tastes great.
And I had soy ice cream.
And we are going to make a vegan chocolate cake. I don't know if this will make it into my repetoire but my mom swares it is delicious. But she is also the same woman who complained that it wasn't cold enough here last winter :)
We had fiddle heads. Which are actually the sprouts of ferns. And sort of tast like asparagus.
My mom puts flaxseed on everything. Hilarious.

I'm trying to be patient with Hillary but it's hard. I hate her for being sick. That makes me an aweful person. I don't know if it's possible to be honest and be polite. I promise myself I would be honest. I need this.
She pokes at me and demands certain things at certain times. I feel like Tom Cruise trying to appease Dustin Hoffman so he doesnt make a scene. She acts like she's eight yeas old most of the time, but then there is this incredible brilliance that peaks through and this uncrushable artistic streak that runs to her core. She is one of the most talented artists I have ever met. But her meds cause tremmors that have taken her steady hands and painting from her. But she still makes stained glass. Incredible pieces.
Amazing.

And I'm realizing through all this, how incredbly impatient I am. About everything. And everyone. I am patient-less. Completely devoid. I don't really know how I have survived this long, this way, and not driven everyone completely mad.
I am working on it. And trying to remain calm and focused. And not spin out when my sister sits ridiculously close to me and stares at some aweful blemish and offers her advice on how I can fix my life. Asks eight thousand questions about my life and talks incesently about my dad and how wonderful he is and how they are going to ride off into the sunset together, or something equally nauseating.
And I sit here and take a deep breath...Add a dash more flaxseed to the pizza dough...and go out to the barn to call ma'aw in for supper!

Seriously...my mom has a barn. But there aren't any horses. Just yoga mats.