AfricanKelli

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For the last week or so I’ve been reading, “Breath, Eyes, Memory” — a Haitan tale of women and their relationships with their daughters. Of course, with the tragedy unfolding in Port au Prince, it’s been a difficult read. I don’t know that anyone handles this sort of mass tragedy well, but I feel itchy. I wish more than anything I had some sort of skill that would make me useful in such situations. I wish I was there.

And then, I don’t. I’m not sure I could handle seeing the death. I nearly fell off the treadmill yesterday when they showed footage of a little boy being rescued from the wreckage. His arms outstretched, he was handed overhead by rescuers down a mountain of broken concrete. I was in tears.

This book is an Oprah selection; they usually make me far too introspective and sad. This book didn’t send in the dark clouds. Instead, it told a strange, interesting tale from a cultural perspective I was hungry to learn from. It is an easy read and I did enjoy it.

My favorite excerpt comes from the very last page:

“There is always a place where women live near trees that, blowing in the wind, sound like music. These women tell stories to their children both to frighten and delight them. These women, they are fluttering lanterns on the hills, the fireflies in the night, the faces that loom over you and recreate the same unspeakable acts that they themselves lived through. There is always a place where nightmares are passed on through generations like heirlooms. Where women like cardinal birds return to look at their own faces in stagnant bodies of water.

“I come from a place where breath, eyes, and memory are one, a place from which you carry your past like the hair on your head. Where women return to their children as butterflies or as tars in the eyes of the statues that their daughters pray to. My mother was as brave as starts at dawn.”

3 out of 5 bananas

~K

This week’s yellow soup is roasted acorn squash with garlic and cayenne. It is spicy and perfect for the rainy weather we’ve been having.

Yellow seems to be a recent theme — and not just because I’ve fallen in love with the Golden Doodle.  I’ve taken up tennis this month after playing a friend on the Wii during Christmas break. He beat me and of course I challenged him to a real match. He plays tennis; I’d never picked up a racket before. Fast forward three weeks and I’m knee deep in lessons and matches with other friends in preparation for an anticipated serving of humble pie. There are times I simply cannot keep my competitive edge in check. Then again, this got me playing something new, so it really will be win-win.

I’m also a little yellow over a recent car mishap. My bank account is jaundice after the front end of my sweet car needed to be replaced. Long story short: parking garages are not nice places and people should really leave a note.  Mind you, I was fighting my first parking ticket when this happened. Curses! The good news is I’ll be out of this crappy rental car and back into my newly improved baby soon.

There is some happiness in this shade too: think daffodils, sunflowers and daisies. I’ve spent time recently with two women I met here and they are delightful! Jennifer and I have long chatted about books. We met last week after a tour of the Montelucia for tacos and margaritas in Scottsdale. She is so fun and it felt like we were long friends falling back into place.

And last night I delivered this lemon oatmeal bread to my friend Tina who recently moved to Phoenix from Georgia with her family. We took a tour of Taliesin West and then I had dinner with her clan. It was such a lovely evening!

Balancing the good with the bad, it’s safe to say I come out far ahead.

~K

My brother Cody was in town this weekend for some debauchery with the boys. I was penciled in for lunch yesterday — coincidentally just an hour before he needed a ride to the airport! We did have a nice lunch and I was once again reminded how silly my family is.

When I asked him to take a couple photos with Sydney, he naturally rolled in the grass with the dog and the two began howling in unison:

If you aren’t giggling just a little bit at these, I think it is safe to say your sense of humor is on sabbatical.

Man, I love that kid.

~K

I was asked by some friends who organize the Old Town Farmer’s Market in Scottsdale to help with the Kid’s Korner booth this weekend. They wanted someone to talk about gardening and coordinate a craft for the children who may come to the market with their parents.

We painted pots and then planted seeds in them. It was a simple, but very sweet day spent with a handful of creative and curious children. Not to mention the market is home to incredible food, flowers, produce and Sweet Republic ice cream.

The kids particularly liked the worms I brought to talk about composting. They named two of them Carl and Walter. Later in the day, we gave a third worm — Locavore — a funeral service. Come to find out, worms don’t like being handled by dozens of kids.

We had a couple dozen kids participate and I ran into a handful of friends I hadn’t seen in a long time. More community time very well spent!

~K

With the 25 citrus trees we planted last Spring and the 50 fruit trees we planted yesterday, our community garden is starting to resemble an orchard.

(That’s Thelma’s date palm! Every time I see it, I smile.)

We had more than 40 volunteers come to the garden to help yesterday morning. Refugees, high school students, retired master gardeners, church members and Sydney — the superpooch. (I’m watching Syd for the weekend. He’s fun to photograph and I have a feeling you’ll be seeing him in a lot of my posts for the next couple of weeks.)

(Proof I don’t just boss people around. I worked! Although there was a good bit of bossing too..)

I cannot belive how rich my life is with community. There is no way I could have ever dreamed I would be a part of such a great group of people. It simply tickles me pink to think one day soon, hungry families in our neighborhood will have fresh fruit thanks to land donated by the church, trees donated by friends and planted by volunteers, and good old reliable Arizona sunshine.

Something magical is happening in this garden. We are planting hope. Miracles will bloom.

~K