Just another day at the beach, or rather evening as dusk settles in.  My ex-wife is off to Boston to run a marathon and I’m looking after our little one, Mela Bean, a Yorkshire Terrier sassy and feisty as they come.  She’s perched on the futon in the other room becoming quite familiar with the territory after having stayed overnight with us following dinner and fireside conversation with my folks and brother.  I had been at the house mowing the lawn, finishing up some laundry and showering before devouring a most unhealthy submarine sandwich, chicken finger with a side of blue cheese for dipping.  Ooh it’s so bad, yet so good.  I just couldn’t see myself sleeping there with all the negativity it represents and so I opted to migrate to more cherubic quarters.

Earlier today Nick and I got a jump on a landscape I’d sold from a lead generated at Plantasia.  I had a sour stomach and endured cold sweats throughout the afternoon as temps fluctuated from cool to steamy and finished out with showers moving in.  We relocated a couple of Arborvitaes and a tree form lilac that was essentially a bare root transplant by the time it was unearthed from loose stone strata.  I advised the customer that it was a long shot to survive, but that the Arbs should be fine.  By the time we had hauled 2 cubic yards of topsoil off the trailer and stripped about 800 square feet of sod loaded back onto the trailer exhaustion was evident.  We decided to off-load the scrap tomorrow rather than push ourselves further.  Next week we will wrap it up with a decorative concrete curb border, install some new ornamental landscape plants and top it off with premium hardwood mulch to produce a professional manicured look.

The signs of death continue as a friend contacted me this morning inquiring if I’d be interested in creating a “memory garden” for one of her clients whose mother recently passed.  And on the ride home from the beach this morning I ran into another funeral procession with a Hamburg cop blocking off traffic along Route 5.  It is a heavy dark energy prevailing this past week and I’m rolling with it best I can.  It might have been wise to allow myself the entire week to rest, but I couldn’t resist jumping to take action on a couple of projects.  Not so much because I need the money, although I do, but because I like to be useful and I was inspired.  It is one of life’s delicate balancing acts- rest and recreation.

The website for the fundraiser benefit coming up on May 23rd is finally live.  Chris had emailed out the link to several co-organizers and I noted that it was not working.   I shot him a text and he immediately returned my call chagrined by the news.  He logged back in to his wix.com account and after a few more tweaks it was loading on my browser.  I then sent out notification on social media sites to begin accepting donations for the annual City Kids Summer Camp.  I’m really excited to be getting back involved with this project after a several year hiatus as a mentor for urban youth.  It’s always peculiar how things come back around that we thought we’d left behind.

Yesterday was quite productive having cleared out the back corner of Nicole’s yard, installing the compost bin crafted from old fencing and relocating rotting compost from the former bin.  We also got to edge the front lawn with the turf creeping well onto the walks.  I’d taken home with me a sizeable load of busted up concrete chunks that came up when leveling out the area for the bin.  Fortunately, I was able to fill in a low area in the rear corner of my yard obscured by some brush along the property line.  I’m confident she was pleased with the results inviting me to lunch upon conclusion of our labor.  As I cleaned up some of the remaining debris and tools she went inside for a change of clothes and reappeared looking quite foxy.  We made our way on foot down Elmwood to a new Japanese joint and indulged in a sushi combo over inspiring conversation.  Sadness welled up for me at one point and immediately she keyed in on the energy change asking me about it.  I was not intimidated by her intuitive ability, rather I was endeared.

The Weather Channel is alerting residents of the mid-west to an outbreak of tornadoes and I just concluded a pleasant call with Jen, with whom I’ve been speaking by phone over the last several weeks.  She and I have some things in common, including recently breaking off long-term relationships.  In her case it was an engagement, though much the same emotionally speaking as a divorce I am sure.  We often talk about getting together, and yet have only done so once briefly for coffee last Easter Sunday when I was a hung over mess.  It looks as though it could fit a pattern for me of getting involved with someone resulting in co-dependency.  Not that there’s anything wrong with it, the juvenile notion that “I can’t live without you…”  But I am healing and growing beyond that prevalent dynamic in relationships.  We enjoy engaging conversation and I am often able to bounce some of what is going on for me off her in a mutually supportive way.  Perhaps I need to graduate from co-dependency by going through it with someone else consciously.  Certainly I know that I need to continue this solitary refinement to gain clarity on my intentions and motivations.

I could be gearing up for a wild night out on the town having been invited to a “Blackout Birthday Bash” celebrating several April birthdays including my brother and brother-in-law among them.  I was also invited to a battle of the bands at The Tralf by my good friends Matt & Amy who are going in support of one of their friends who will be in the lineup.  I’m not inclined to be in the public at present, especially in the bar and club scene.  The two beers I attempted to drink last night were not at all enjoyable.  Instead it is peace and quiet out here by the lake that is much more appropriate at this juncture.  As a friend informed me recently the water is soothing to the sacral chakra, and being near it delivers powerful medicine.  My eyes are heavy and I suspect that sleep will be had before long.

In common wealth,