YAY - it's a party

I KNEW Fargo wouldn't let us down. Our party is on, as planned, for dinner and attendance at the premiere of "Sex and the City." Phew - I needed a reason to live, and luckily I've found it. Am I serious? Not really, but in these intense times, I think it's imperative to plan and do things that bring us profound joy, no matter what they are, or how small they seem. Kari and I made baklava the day before she left, and standing side by side, we created a masterpiece of filo, walnuts, butter and honey.

I gently laid the filo dough in the bottom, then she brushed it with melted butter, I added a thin layer of crushed walnuts rolled in cinnamon, then I laid another layer on top, then she brushed it, and on and on. We forgot to cut it BEFORE it went into the oven (that was counterintuitive to me, so I skipped over those instructions, apparently), but when we started smelling that warm, buttery smell it made both of our hearts glad. When Kari left, she wrote me a letter. Here is what part of it said:

"...you are and will forever be my guts, my insides, my Moo. P.S. August = Baklava Round 2"

Why do I write this? Because this one small gesture, making baklava with my dearest eldest daughter, makes my heart feel whole, it helps me dive, then stay, right in my Center, it pulls me into the present moment where she is present, and I am present, and we are together. And now she's flying off to Cyprus for two months, and I pre-miss her so badly I can't stop crying. We've gone that long without seeing each other before, but we'd always been able TO see each other if we wanted. Now that's not an option.

So another click on life's huge kaleidoscope is heard, and we move on. The old drops out of sight, and the new is seen, just over the horizon, just around that next curve. But we have to keep walking. Melissa did a tune-in for me this morning, and she said that I have never asked to be let out of my "contract," this intense agreement to help as many people as possible in this lifetime, not even when I was totally bowed over with the burdens or difficulties. Others have opted out, and they have BEEN let out of their contracts, but apparently I have not. So I continue on, one step at a time, not knowing where the next step will lead me, but trusting, always trusting, and in the meantime? In the meantime, I've made my summer goals, my summer yummies, and I'm sticking to them, I really am. Here's a short list of my summer goals. Have you made yours yet?

Read "Pride and Prejudice"
Watch the movie
Watch all 6 Star Wars movies with Bill (we've already watched the first 3)
Finish "Dress Gray" (Dad's book of memoirs that I'm writing with him)
Finish the project on my nutritional course
Finish one more nutritional course
Perfect the baklava recipe (does anyone have a really good one to share?)
Compete in at least one 5K race

That's just the short list - I know there's more, but I'll keep adding to it. Something happens in the summer - I make summer goals, not New Year's Revolutions (I mean "resolutions"), have been doing that for some 17 years. Usually they're literary goals, combined with video goals (watch the entire "Lily Langtry" video series, for example, or the whole "I, Claudius" series), but I've added culinary goals (one year it was to make the perfect glass of lemonade), and social goals (volunteer to serve dinner at Churches United for the Homeless). But I've gone onto the main Symphony Board, so I don't want to get too overloaded, but yet this deep yearning to serve the greater masses has been pulling me lately. Part of this next new step, I'm thinking. Drop the small stuff, let people take care of themselves (family issues), and let the bigger stuff come in.

Ah - what's the bigger stuff? Planning parties, silly - like this Friday. Good women, good food, good movie, good times... see you there.