Last night about dusk, I was standing on my patio surveying my plants.  The hummingbird zoomed right up to within three feet of me, and buzzed around while I stared.  I greeted her and she zig-zagged off to perch on a high, orange huckleberry flower, almost lost against the deep blue sky.

The boys came over at 3 pm, already imbued with the desire to "make a tazer."  "In 3-D," amended Auggie, just in case I thought I would get off just making a drawing. I made a luger-type gun before for Anders--we called it the Anders Repeater, and it even had a place for a magazine in the handle (where do I get these skills??)  I have to cut the weapons out of cardboard (four sides--two for each one) and it's pretty hard on the hands.  Sigh.

We wrap them up in Gorilla tape and it makes a nice sturdy, shiny weapon.  I know. I know.  Why do I have to encourage these boys in this deadly pursuit? 

Since Anders has been complaining of being bored, I thought up the idea of making a Bored Box.  I had him think up activities and write them on index cards, folded over.  Then when he's bored, he can pull one out and perform the activity.  We wrote down, Read a Book, Build Something with Nails, Make a Skeleton.  Jump off the third stair five times.  Write a 3-page book.  He got excited about the idea and was concerned that he might get bored at his house and not have the box at hand.  I said he could call me.  I'd pull a card for him. 

If only  Chloe were not such a tomboy, I might be able to make dolls instead of guns.  Actually, I'd like to try  my hand at making some rustic, potent, bead be-decked African-like dolls--like the ones I saw at the de Young Museum last Sunday.  Something dark, worn, powerful and mysterious.  Just for myself. 

Yesterday was National Night Out, to encourage block parties.  Gunther put the word out to five or six neighbor families to come to my driveway after work for "street tacos."  He chose my driveway because it's flat, and now we have three swings to occupy the kids.  He set up his BBQ, a table, some chairs.  Everyone showed up with meat to grill, fantastic hot chili rellenos, wine, guacamole, and chips.  

I enjoyed holding Anya and Mateo's 2-month old Sadie, bundled up like a little loaf.

We talked about Glenn and Sunook's new roof, traveling to Oaxaca where Mateo saw people carrying turkeys on their heads, and chicken ordnances.  Sam has written a proposal to the City of El Cerrito to make it legal to raise a few chickens in the backyards.  He found a really great source where a man put together chicken ordnances, raising all the concerns about  raising livestock in the city limits. 

We were blessed with an unusually warm, non-windy, non-foggy beautiful evening.  Everyone drifted home as darkness set in. 

Red Spot is okay.  But Minnie died. We didn't see her this morning when we put in some mosquito larvae.  Robert was worried so he took out some of the rocks and found her little body caught in the plants.  Why did she die?  She wasn't eating yesterday, but we just thought she didn't want to compete with the bigger fish.

Anders and Auggie were over, so we did an autopsy with my Exacto knife and the magnifying glass, which Robert bought yesterday.  Of course, we didn't find anything conclusive.

We gave Minnie a Viking burial with a little paper boat and some paper scraps.  We set it on fire and then launched the boat in the back pond.  Anders drew some fish friends to help her in the afterlife. 

I just came in from the garden.  It's a beautiful quiet and cool twilight.  About 7 pm each day, my neighbor behind the back fence starts to practice his fiddle.  The notes hang in the air, punctuated with the sound of children's voices.  The combination is such a wonderful sound in the dusk.

We fed some more larvae to the fish.  Robert is observing them right now, but I came in to finish the blog.

A opinion poll canvasser just called--to ask questions about the election in the Fall.  It's so embarrassing not to know anything, and to see how shallow my opinions are--and I do listen to the radio and try to keep up.  In the end, I'll ask Rainey what she thinks, because she really keeps up with politics and is in the League of  Women Voters.

Gunther just rang the bell.  He wanted to know where I got the little airplane for Auggie that fits on his handlebars.  He wants one for his and Eliza's too!

He just told me Tuesday is National Block Party night, so he's going to put his BBQ in my driveway and make carne asada tacos.  We have the swings that will keep the kids busy.  Should be fun.

Robert just came in and said he thinks Red Spot is acting funny. 

Well, we found Red Stripe dead today, under the lily pad.  Too bad, isn't it?

We can't figure out why she died, since Robert sees no sign of any disease.

Now we have left seven fish.  There's Blackie. He's big, like a submarine.  He shoulders away the other fish when he sees something to eat.   There's the triplets, all gold, hard to tell apart. There's White Head, Red Spot, and Minnie the Minnow. 

We discovered mosquito larvae in the back pond where we removed all our fish.  Now it's empty and breeding these vile, wiggly, little creatures.  However, Robert got the little green net and is catching them---and feeding them to the fish in the pot pond.  Wow, they love these things.  Kind of labor-intensive, though, catching the larvae and handfeeding them to the fish.  Wow, we got the fish originally just for this purpose, and now they live in different ponds. 

Gunther, Eliza, Auggie, and Anders came over for pork chili stew and rice tonight.  I wanted to hear about their five-day camping trip at Bearskin Meadows.  This is their third time (it's the family camp for families with children with Type 1 Diabetes.)  I am so grateful that this camp is available for the information and support is offers families.  They learned some new strategies for working with the insulin pump.  The kids had a great time with the counselors and daily activities.  They even have gluten-free food, which we were excoted about, although Eliza's biscuits are better than theirs, so they thought!  

It's so good to have them all home.   

Gunther and Eliza and the boys went off for diabetes camp at Bearskin Meadows.

Homely chores today:

Robert and I went over to Gunther and Eliza's  house to check to see that their friend's bunny hutch had been picked up so we could lock the back gate and put out their garbage.

We took their food from the refrigerator to use up--mushrooms, lettuce, cheese, and milk.

We gave their chickens some cut-up cantaloupe and lettuce and watched them peck around. Tomorrow I'll put in fresh newspaper and throw away the poop.

I harvested some of their fresh tomatoes--I love the smell of a tomato patch--there's nothing like it.

Robert and I created a safe patch of mulch under the second swing that Gunther put up on my tree by the sidewalk.  It's safer for swinging now.  We also built up some flagstones to create a jumping off place for the swing, which will be a fun discovery when they come home from camp.

Robert and I gazed at our goldfish.  Ick (a fish parasite Robert observed) has been corrected.  Robert peeled (!) the skin off of one pea, mashed it and fed it to the fish.  He says it helps prevent fish constipation.  We fed them some watermelon yesterday.

The water is clear.  Everything looks perfect.

A hummingbird suddenly buzzed in front of us as we were gazing at the fish.  What are we?  St. Francis of Assisi?! 

I'm tired tonight but it's a feeling that allows me to break down the fence between the day and the night, and bring reflections forward.

The need to write has been growing thoughout the last week...as I long to record the beautiful moments of the last seven days.

Treor (8) and Chloe (6) flew up from Studio City to stay with me, and spend time with their cousins, Anders (7) and Auggie (5).  Auggie and Anders and their parents, my son, Gunther and daughter-in-law Eliza live across the street, so we have a little family compound going.

Eliza and I moved in sync each day to set up fun local acitivities--and to give each other needed breaks.  (I'm not used to full-time mothering!)

Bright moments:

• In Memorial Park, a pick-up baseball game with another 8-year old, who had brought a ball and bat, but who lacked any friends (he said he was visiting his divorced father.)  Trevor--who plays on a little team at home, was thrilled.  We all walked home together-a new friend

• Auggie's 5th birthday on Sunday July 12th, again at Stinson beach--friends, lounging, body boards, a rare sunny day, a Pinata, hamburgers, hot dogs, and getting buried in the sand.
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• Robert, Trevor, Chloe, and me watching the original (is there even a new one?) Attack of the 50-foot Woman.  An alcoholic woman gets irradiated by an alien and grows so large she walks the streets moaning, "Harry, where are you?" in search of her philandering husband.  She squeezes him to death.  "I liked it, actually," said Chloe when I remarked to my friend that it was pretty hokey.
  

•  Buying enormous quantities of food, every day
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• Going to Adventure Land at the Berkeley Marina, where they all went on a zip line (landing in a hill of sand) and got to do stuff like hammering and sawing
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• We made a "movie" where aliens landed and hunted down the earthlings at my house.  Anders and Trevor, wearing last-year's Halloween's knights costumes arrive in a cardboard box from outer space.  Chloe and Auggie (wearing his "handsome shirt") arrive home in my car after shopping, enter the house and go to bed.  Hearing noises, they go downstairs to encounter the aliens.  "The humans have to win," I direct. I teach them how to slip a sword between their arm to look like a stab.  The aliens, fight, but unfortunately are killed and fall down dead.  Everyone stays in character.  I wish I knew how to put my digital vignettes into one continuous narrative.  "We want to have 100 hits on YouTube," they all tell me.
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• Last Satuday, the parents (Gunthe and Eliza and Jim and Sigrid) go off to San Francisco.  The kids and I eat dinner on the new deck that Gunther just built onto his house.
  
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• "I want to make a speech," begins Anders, and offes a long thank-you speech to me ("Nana")  Wow, it broke my heart.  Trevor followed suit, and actually thanked me for having their parents. I returned the favor by pointing out the special qualities of each of them.
• After Jim and Sigrid and Trevor and Chloe left to drive down to Southern California, Gunther put up three swings in my front yard.  Now we can have a mini-park in front of my house.
  
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• Last week (especially Saturday) might turn out to be the best days of my life.
  

I visited my friend Denis last night.  We went for a walk in the neighborhood and admired the gigantic palm trees, the bougainvilla, and some of the renovations of homes.  It was a quiet late afternoon.

Denis made a light meal in his tiny, cozy cottage.  His bookshelf, while pared to the essentials holds many books on spirituality, symbols, theology, and art.  In talking with him, I realized that all his "people," his parents and grandparents were, in some way, involved in the arts.  His grandmother was an architect, his father a graphic artist and designer of fonts.  His grandfather was the director of an important crafts studio.  It made me believe that there must be a gene ruling esthetics.

Denis is a paragon of simplicity (he's my friend who attends Quaker meetings and does English country dancing.)  He only shops at thrift stores and yet has an extremely strong esthetic sense (like his ancestors.)  He related his concern about the green plaid shirt he was wearing "It only cost me $3.00," he confided, "but it's a bit too big in the shoulder, and the patch pocket should really be moved over an inch to be the right proportion." 

I knew exactly how he felt about this minor detail.  Only that morning, I had ironed a white linen shirt I've had for probbly fifteen years.  It's a large size, and I can't think why I would have bought a large, unless I really needed it for a beach cover up or something and that's all that was available.  I was thinking that it was too long, and wondering if I should take the trouble to hem it up.  Then I thought, "Who cares?"  Why do I obsess about something this trivial???  Who cares if I wear a shirt that is two inches too long? A shirt I haven't worn in fifteen years, for God's sake.

Denis had come to the same conclusion about his patch pocket, although he was only concerned that he might ruin the shirt if he tried; he wasn't existentially appalled at the level of triviality uncovered within his oul.

What I wonder is, what is it in us that is able to make the shift to let go of being preoccupied about whether something is "right" and come to the conclusion that it really doens't matter in the larger scheme of things?  Letting go seems to be a healthy step, and it does make life a little easer, if we don't have to go around altering every little detail of our clothing, for heaven's sake!  Why do I care about such frivolous details?

I think Denis and I both, perhaps, labor under what I'd like to call the curse of esthetics. 

I wonder how many other people obsess about such insignificant details (okay, I saw the wonderful film on Valentino, the great Italian clothes designer.  He certainly made a living off the details!)  But for Denis and me it's probably just as well to note the fine points of how things "should be," and move on!

Last Monday, Robert and I spent the afternoon in the back garden.  He puttered around with the rocks in the fountain, adjusting the protective grid he made to cover the tiny fish pond and rearranging some of the water plants.  He's taken quite a fancy to keeping the four little goldfish alive, and reading up on their care.

I planted a few new plants, and also spray-painted black some old frames in order to put up some of the photos and drawings I want to display in my office and front bedroom.  It's a project I've been wanting to do for awhile.

At twilight, I hand-wantered with the hose my new Santa Baraba daisies and fuschia-colored iceplants.  As I stood watering, the hummingbird who often comes into the yard, came right up close into my spray from the hose. She was only 12 inches away from me!  Thrilling.

It was a lovely day.