What I like at 90 degrees

A single chirping bird, a cross-breeze, clean sheets, comfortable shorts, my Dad's ring.

Quote

"Good lingerie never goes to waste."

~Tai Moses

Music to my ears

Outside my bedroom window stands a tree that houses what sounds like a thousand birds, and each of those birds has a different sound, a different call, a different song they sing. Living in the city one would surely understand what a gift it is to be near such sound, it's like the Amazon of Manhattan. The only thing is, the birds are like music to me. When I'm happy they intensify my joy, when I'm sleeping they wake me early, and when I'm sad they make me just a little sadder.

Girl

Annie: "Mommy, what's bothering you these days?"

Me: "Oh, it's just life stuff. When you grow up I'll tell you all about what I'm going through right now."

Annie: "I don't think you should wait until I'm grown up to tell me, you should let it out because if you don't let it out it might make you sick."

Me: "That's okay baby, I have friends to talk to, it's not really appropriate for me to discuss my problems with you."

Annie: "I think it's appropriate. Please Mommy, tell me what it is."

Me: "Well, I went on my trip and I saw my friend and he really hurt my feelings. So I came home early because I really missed you and needed to be with you."

Annie: "But tell me all of it."

Me: "That's pretty much all of it."

Annie: "But you'll tell me more about it when I'm grown?"

Me: "I will baby."

Annie: "Do you want me to send a mean text message to the person who hurt your feelings?"

Me: "No honey."

Annie: "No body hurts my Mommy's feelings unless I say so!"

The way things aren't

Today I thought I saw an old man playing a harmonica, but it was just the sound of a car's squeaky breaks beside an old man eating a bagel.

Wednesday morning

He never walked my street, climbed my stairs, opened my door or slept in my bed, yet there are reminders of him everywhere.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I wrote a children's book called, "The Goat Who Saved the Upper West Side."

What's good about feeling bad

Nesting in my apartment becomes particularly comforting, eating becomes a chore so losing weight becomes easy, my child's embrace feels like medicine, unpacking a sexy dress I never wore reminds me that summer is near, a cup of coffee and some stimulating conversation can turn my mood around.

She knows best

When I take down something I've posted, it's because I've changed my mind about it. When I remove a photo of myself, it's because my mom tells me I look tortured in the picture and it shouldn't be on the blog.

I listen to my mother. Most of the time.

What things cost

I rejected reality, took words spoken in moments and let them live in the world. I packed my bags, boarded a plane, walked into fire, and this morning when I opened my eyes, I was hit as I am every morning, with the price I pay.

In Real Time

Annie is in bed at home, the clarinet player blows and the sound circles through the hot night air. I am alone and lonely in my apartment, but it's just where I want to be.

Central Park Today

Reasons

He gave me a reason for not being with me, but I never believed it was the only reason. Ridiculously, I thought it was the 10 pounds I recently gained, then I believed I wasn't enough for him. But after sitting with it for a day, I now believe I may actually have been too much for him. Too much woman, too much girl, too much mouth, too much sound, too much affection, too much sex. Too much Katie.

And the thing is, there's nothing I could or would do to change that.

I am her.

I'm Free!

There's no place like home

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go ...

home.

Thanks Aerophant

For taking such good care of this sad note.

Letter home

I just wanted to say that David Kosh is a great man. I appreciate him and his love more than he could ever know.

Today

I saw hummingbirds and baby geese, I walked around a lake, watched a movie, cried tears, had laughs, and saw a big beautiful sun hiding in a foggy sky.

Today

I felt sad and alone, confused and bewildered, comforted and humored, powerless and powerful, resigned, rejected, responsible and hopeful.

Happy Birthday Dad

Wish you were here.

The Way Things Aren't

I once fell madly in love with a man who put his arms around me and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. I believed he loved me so much that it would change the direction of our lives, but all it changed was the direction my car was going.

All my bags are packed

Tomorrow I'll embark on a journey. I'll visit the past, live in the present, and leave with more clarity about the future.

I don't quite know what I feel tonight, I'll simply board a plane in the morning and let it take me ... where it takes me.

I send you all much love, and I'll see you when I return.

Katie

Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later Katie promises she will blog later.

Secret...

When David is away, Annie challenges and pushes me almost every waking moment that we're together. I am spent, drained and exhausted, and I'm so glad her daddy is coming home tomorrow because I can't take it one more day.

A Gift

To have someone reach out, no matter what. Someone who always answers your call and takes time, who doesn't say goodbye until you've laughed at least once.

Secret...

It doesn't take much to pacify Kiki, but if she's not tucked in, she'll stay up all night taking over Katie's dreams.

Good morning...

... from the Half Note.

Books & bridges

Lately I’ve been feeling how separate Annie and I have become. Sometimes when I need to be alone or get things done, I welcome that she is growing up, that she no longer clings to me or cries when I leave her sight. But there are other times when I would give anything to curl up beside her and have her melt into me the way she used to. And though she will at times allow me to get very close, she now may add an exasperated, “Mom, you’re crowding me." Or "Mom, can you take your head off my pillow?”

Even as she’s falling asleep and my presence is requested, it’s not the same:

“Pet my hair please. No, not like that. Sing to me please, no not that song. Don’t breathe like that Mommy, why do you smell like mustard?”

I’m no longer the person she wants to be with night and day, I’m no longer the one who walks into a room and makes everything better. I understand how much she loves me, that when she grows up she’ll come back to me, but our daily life together is so different than it once was.

This morning I was given a suggestion to post some of my favorite books that I read to Annie when she was little. I didn’t have to think about it for long; I knew immediately what would be on the list. But I did notice that as I began to gather their accompanying photos, my emotions started to stir. I hadn’t realized, until that moment, that I’ve been experiencing loss as Annie has, in the natural order of things, begun moving away from me.

Time spent reading to her was some of the most precious time in my life. Every night when I’d pick up a special book, even one we’d read a million times, there was always an anticipation between us, a knowing that we were about to go somewhere wonderful together. As I would read the title, then open to the first page, it was as if she and I were taking hold of each other’s hands and making a first step on a journey, that though familiar, always had a surprise in store. The night outside her window kept her safe, and the light beside her bed kept us suspended in time.

Perhaps now, when I attempt to join Annie on the bed as she reads to herself, I’ll chose to remember these moments. Because one day they too will be gone, and I’ll be wishing she were so close to me… that she would push me away.

Isn't it exciting?

Oops...

I forgot to mention that Annie posted a little something last night.

Greetings from New York

I have every hour of today day booked until past midnight, so there will most likely be no blogging at The Half Note.

Much love from me,

Katie

Sweet talk

A conversation tonight, as Annie falls asleep in my bed:

Annie: "I wish Daddy baked cupcakes."

Me: "Yeah."

Annie: "Daddy's not fun like that." Long pause. "But he's fun in his own way."

Me: "Yes he is."

Annie: "I just wish he were more fun like wild and crazy fun."

Me: "But we accept and love Daddy for who he is."

Annie: "Yeah." Long pause. "But I still wish he made cupcakes."

Me: "Yeah."

Annie: "With chocolate pudding inside."

Me: "Go to sleep Annie."

Annie: "Okay Mommy."

Mallomarvelous

I was in the checkout line at Fairway Market in Harlem, picking up a couple of things for my mom . I didn't notice the huge stack of Mallomars on the shelf beside me until a gentlemen snatched up two boxes, looked at me and blurted out, "I couldn't help myself!" then walked away.

I wanted to reassure him that not only did I not judge him, I understood.

"Enjoy every bite!" I called out, then I picked up the cellphone and dialed my mother.

"Do you want Mallomars?" I asked her.

"You just hit the nail on the head!" she said. "I usually start with two boxes, then tell myself it's the last time."

Just then the man returned, looked at me again and took another box off the shelf.

"I've got my mother on the line." I told him. "Thanks to you, she's getting Mallomars today."

"Tell her to enjoy every bite!" He said, waving his hand as he walked away. I put the shiny yellow boxes into my cart.

I noticed that buying them for my mother took the edge off of wanting them for myself, because the truth is, I can't have just one, or two, or three.

When I returned home, the subject of Mallomars was virtually gone from my mind until I received an email from my friend Tai requesting I send her Mallomars right away!

What's up with Mallomars? I asked myself, which prompted me to do an internet search on the subject.

Here are a few things I learned, some I already knew to be true:

Seventy percent of all Mallomars sold are sold in metropolitan New York.

One person said about Mallomars, "Biting into one is all about love and loss and family..."

One man said he once thought they stopped making Mallomars because he'd become an atheist.

Then I came across a discussion board titled, Mallomars, Good or Evil? One outraged woman stated the amount of money spent on Mallomars alone would probably be enough to stop the Darfur crisis in Sudan.

I also read that Mallomars were a seasonal thing, that because the delicate cookie would surely not survive the east coast heat and humidity, they were only produced and distributed between the months of October and March. But I'd been standing beside a shelf full of them and it was April, so I dismissed it as folklore and decided that when I was ready, whether it be April or May, I would return to the store and buy Tai all the Mallomars her little stomach could hold.

I went back to Fairway the next day and noticed the Mallomar shelf had been taken down. I checked the cookie aisle but there were no Mallomars there either. I asked several employees, none of whom had any answers. I approached a cashier.

"I can't find Mallomars," I said. "I heard a rumor they stop making them in warm weather. Can that be true?"

"That's ridiculous!" he replied. "What you probably heard was that we just bring them into the cold room during warm weather, so they won't melt."

I felt reassured but still, he couldn't locate even one box.

Finally I found a manager and asked for help.

"Oh," he said. "They won't make Mallomars again until October."

My heart sank. I thought of Tai's disappointed face.

"But there's a Canadian alternative," he continued, "And they're really good."

Resigned, I took two boxes of Canadian Whippets off the shelf and put them into my cart.

At least I won't be contributing to genocide, I thought. And I know Tai will appreciate that.

Or will she?

Aloha!

David is in the sky today, on his way with Cold Tea to The Big Island Film Festival!

Night shift

When I was growing up, my dad told me if I couldn't sleep it was better to stay up all night and be productive than it was to toss and turn and torture myself for hours. He pointed out the logic in his thinking: Even if you had to rise early for work, you'd be exhausted either way so you might as well get things done. On my Dad's restless nights, I believe he did only one thing and that was write.

I wonder, if he were alive today, would he have a blog? (I would have helped him set it up). And if he did, I wonder if he'd be writing on it if he couldn't sleep tonight.

In Real Time

Late afternoon sun, a breeze blows, Annie colors, Bruce Abrams plays and I'm not worried about a thing.

The calm before

Yesterday at brunch my mother told me she missed my writing on the blog. I told her that perhaps I needed to suffer more to write, or maybe I needed to be high on happiness. In any case, for now I'll just sit quietly here in limbo.

But don't worry Mom, I'm sure there's a storm or two on the horizon.

My flowers

From Annie & Dave

Annie & Daddy

She thinks I'm pretty... scary

My Mother's Day card. (Click & scroll)

Annie & Me

I decided to phone my unknown caller today, and I reached her answering machine.

"Good morning Ms. Donaldson," I said. "This is Katie, the woman you mistakenly call every so often. I just wanted tell you that I love getting your messages and they always brighten my day. And thank you for your Mother's Day wish, yes, I am a mother. And if you're a mother, I hope you have a great day, and if you're not a mother I hope you have a great day. I look forward to the next time you get your numbers mixed up."

Love notes

Sometimes I find little scraps of paper that Annie has written on. I found this one about a year ago.

In my dreams

Last night I had a dream that I took my magic wand into the bathroom, I dropped it, and it smashed into little pieces.

Unknown caller

When I retunred home tonight, I found another message from my unknown caller.

"Hi Katie," she said. "I'm so sorry, dialed the wrong number! But if you're a mom, Happy Mother's Day to you. If not, have a blessed day!"