Mulish & Co.

Five More Minutes

 

This is Slip, our oldest dog . He is 13 yrs old this year, blind and mostly toothless. He is a companion like no other, steadfast day and night. In the morning, after the alarm has been hushed, he refuses to stir. He is the Master of Five More Minutes.

Reading

I am reading like a fiend and cannot stop myself. My reading slowed down significantly the past several years because I needed bifocals. My lenses were scratched and the frames ill-fitting. I was hobbling along and making do but I was losing out as well. Envy overcame me when I saw Michael reading. He reads tortoise-style — slow and steady and as slow as he was reading, I still could not catch him because I read so sporadically and so seldom.

Eventually, the bifocals did come but with an adjustment period. I did not rush into reading like I thought I would. I imagined that all the stacks of books that had accumulated would be dealt with and eliminated in short order but that didn't happen. November came and went. I struggled with creative writing and determined that what would really help me in this regard - writing - would be reading. So, I bought a book on writing. It wasn't what I thought it would be and I disliked it immensley but plowed through. I thought it would deal with being present, with a vein of spiritual awareness but not entirely. Instead it was really about the power of attraction that is so popular right now and praying on paper. It did, however, get me back into the practice of writing out the detritus of the previous day each morning. This I needed.

December. What better place to gift shop than a bookstore? I made several trips before Christmas and although I did make a list of books that Michael might enjoy, the list that I made for myself was much longer. After each excursion I would dutifully return home and add books to my Amazon Wish List. I will have you know that I did not indulge in any of the items on my list until Christmas Day. How's that for self-control?

I was almost forced into buying a book. Hard to believe, I know. But, I received a Kindle. A KINDLE! It was exactly what I needed and had been my secret desire for months. I bought myself the kindle edition of C. G. Jungs' Memories, Dreams, Reflections and I also returned to the Book People and picked up another, The Art of Description: World Into Word by Mark Doty, it is one in a series edited by Charles Baxter and published by Graywolf Publishing. So, once again, I am reading like a fiend and cannot stop myself.

The two books make a great duo to be read together. Jung's deeply reflective writing is a profound example of the ability to  articulating one's life in detail with the pain and joy that we all experience and Doty writes about putting our experiences on paper, translating experience into words. They both resonate with me right now. I think that is what makes a book "good", it's the timing and relevance to one's own life at the moment of reading.

I had to stop reading and write this raggedy little post when I came upon the idea in The Art of Description of "the contemplative dimension of recollection". I found this idea exhilirating. Someone had put into words exactly what I yearned to do, what I wanted my own writing to embody. I feel like I stumbled upon a deep truth, perhaps meaningful only to me but meaningful nonetheless. It was the difference of reading about a beautiful painting in an art history book and experiencing the exact painting in person. I've had that experience too and been brought to tears. I told someone of how, tearing through the Art Institute in Chicago near closing time, I wept my way through, overcome with the beauty. She said, matter of factly, "Well of course, art is sublime." She was so right. She opened the window on a truth. This individual was someone I could never really bond with and, in all honestly, distanced myself from. But I am grateful to her for opening a window to the obvious, to the truth of the resonance of art and creativity. It is simply experiencing the sublime. The idea that my writing might embody the contemplative dimension of recollection resonated with me and made my heart swell.

Wholly Cow

I don't know the last time that Michael and I were able to spend two entire days together. Two weeks ago I actually said this very thing out loud, "Today was  a good day but I wish we had just one more day to spend together." And it happened.

It happened and it was perfect, not in any extraordinary way but in its simplicity. We weren't joined at the hip by any means, in fact, early on we each used the morning to find our own rhythm — I read and he ran. And then, wouldn't you know it, we found each other. The day was beautiful and we were free and we had fun and perhaps best of all, we discovered Wholly Cow.

Okay, I'll confess, it wasn't an entirely serendipitous find. A co-worker told me about *Wholly Cow several weeks ago. I told her I was craving a burger and she suggested what she described as a hole in the wall establishment on So. Lamar. She told me roughly where it was and said that I'd have to look carefully for it. She was so very right. It's a completely unassuming little joint.

Now there are other burger places in Austin and good ones at that, but Wholly Cow is remarkably good. Their beef is locally raised and grass fed from beginning to end. It comes from Fredericksburg which is local enough for me. It is TexAg and USDA certified organic. It's very, very good. On Mondays the burgers are $5. They serve sweet potato fries, regular fries or you can mix 'em up. I strongly recommend the mix-up.

Michael had a portabella burger and no, it's not a burger with portabella mushrooms in it, it's a burger that used two very large portabella mushrooms as the bun. AS THE BUN, PEOPLE! Sheesh, what will they think of next? My greedy, greedy eyes were all over that juicy thing.

And what, pray tell, did we drink? Texas Tea, of course. It comes in a few different flavors but if you get the peach, you're in for a treat. The peaches are organic as well and also come from Fredericksburg. I'm not a fan of overly sweet tea but this was just right and it smelled like summer. I'm not sure if all of the food they use is locally sourced but a good bit of it comes from the family farm in Fredericksburg. It belongs to the owner's uncle.

Now I might not know the uncle nor have I ever been out to the farm but I almost feel like I have because the owner of Wholly Cow is so friendly, you feel like you've known him for years, like maybe you'd gone to highschool with him. He's genuinely thoughtful, not at all guarded but instead, very forthcoming.  He's got ideas for this little place, he's proud of it and I really, really hope he does well. 

So, there you have it. I didn't think that one of my first blog posts would be a review of a burger joint inside of a convenience store but it was just that good and I had to share it with you. My wish is that each of you are able to spend a day with someone you love and discover something new together, whether it be a new burger place, a different path home, or a new friend. Bon appetit, my friends. Indulge!

*Wholly Cow

3010 S. Lamar Blvd.

Austin, TX 78704

(512) 394-8156

Goodness, Everywhere

My fortune cookie message this afternoon made me feel confident and eager.

A Blog Is Born

I've been carrying around a pale yellow post-it note with me for two weeks now, on it I scrawled two words:

"Self-Discovery"

"Acceptance"

Each seem to be a laudable pursuit and when I sat quietly and considered the differences between this blog and my old blog, self-discovery and acceptance were the two things that came to mind. The old blog was a document, a vent, the way things were. It had nothing to do with where I might be going in my life.

I don't know where this blog will lead me. I am still not sure exactly where I am going or what I want to achieve but there is a part of me that feels like there is something big and amazing on the horizon and I want to record every step of the journey. It's like I am watching the sunrise for the very first time and can just see the gold crown emerging with no idea of the brilliant orange fire about to follow. This beginning, this endeavor, feels a little bit like that. Big, beautiful, maybe a tad scary and I just want to be present.

I've been trying to be truer to myself than ever before. If not now, when? I have the luxury of a husband that I am deeply in love with. We live in an orangey little house on a  little hill in a part of East Austin that locals call The Hogpen. We have dogs, chickens, a garden. I live in near bliss which comes, in part, from not wanting a whole lot more than this.

Yet, even with this sweet pie in the sky that I have cut for myself, there is a feeling of it not being quite right. And a part of me is a wee bit ashamed. I feel indulgent and greedy. What, on earth, do I want after all? Everything? Who am I to think that I deserve to have anymore while there are people living with so much less?

It isn't as though I am after a thing so much as a state of being, a rightness. I want to be aligned with who I am and at the moment, even though I am going in the right direction, I feel like I am driving alongside the train tracks and the road is bumpy at times. Oh, so bumpy.

I'm on a dirt road that rises and dips and dust is swirling all around. I am desperately trying not to lose sight of the tracks. They are the only indication of the direction I need to travel. So I race along in my little jalopy. I don't know exactly where I'll end up but I have no doubt that I will recognize it when I get there.

Thank you friends, this Christmas Day, for following along in my travels. We will all end up in a beautiful, wonderful place. I can feel it. Let's go!