Sylvia's Journal

I did another superstitious thing today, like leaving all my work stuff at work. I have been packing everything up and schlepping it home every day just in case we had to rush off to Easthampton, so I am taunting fate, again; to no avail so far.

Every evening we are checking in with Sita and every night she answers the phone from home. Her blood pressure is still high and that is some reason for concern – more so to us than it appears to the midwives, although various tests are ordered, alongside with bed rest and extra protein.

We returned from a dinner with Tessa and Steve on the deck of Gloucester’s brew pub. The place is right on the harbor. We enjoyed great beer, mediocre food for me (the others were happy: fish tacos, pulled pork and fish & chips), some great desserts and the last sun rays of a day that started wet and ended warm.

After weeks of eating mostly vegetables and fruits the pub food didn’t sit so well with me, despite the fact that it was billed as a seafood salad (it was more of a seafood antipasta). The food stood in some contrast to a very elegant meal (with its half portions) we had yesterday to celebrate KB’s 61^st birthday at the Duckworth Bistro (also in Gloucester) together with some friends.

This week is full of restaurant fare, two lunches and two dinners so far, all in great company. The freshly picked micro greens and asparagus are waiting for a dinner at home; that should be tomorrow.

We brought the Afghan baby crib into the living room, plus the embroidered baby caps, hoping that this would speed things up. Sometimes superstition is fun.

It has been raining all day which we humans may not like but our newly seeded grass and baby vegetables love. We are ready to serve a full plate of micro greens to anyone who comes by – we have plenty. We will complement them with macro asparagus, also aplenty.

This morning Sabera came to our office to tell my colleagues about the work of Afghan midwives and the challenges they are up against. Most of those are pretty obvious: security concerns in many parts of the country, turnover, restrictive norms for girls and women to travel and work outside the home and attitudes of mostly male, mostly older doctors about their expertise. The male doctor versus young(er) female midwife/nurse dynamic appears to be universal.

Still, in spite of all of that, Sabera and a few hundred very committed women have tapped into something strong and powerful. Where at first they had to beg the fathers and husbands to let their daughters and wives train to become a midwife, now there are long lines of girls that the few midwifery schools cannot handle.  Other countries in the region are looking and asking Afghan midwives to come and teach theirs how they did it. I am learning a thing or two about change and transformation against all odds –  a case study on social change, led by very courageous young women.

Two other Afghan women, one Afghan American, joined the conversation.  I was happy to link them to Sabera. Critical mass is important and any new connection helps as you never know where it may lead.

Afterwards the official part of the program was over I took the three ladies to a Japanese restaurant where we sat around the cooking plate and were treated to knife/spatula juggling and new ways to break and fry an egg. It was very entertaining. Sabera indulged in sushi – I only know two Afghans who are adventurous eater, Sabera and my colleague Saeed.

The afternoon program included a visit to Harvard’s School of Public Health where I handed her over to Gary from western Mass. who is taking her under his wing for the rest of the afternoon. Tomorrow she will go to do some more networking further west. I told her we may be following her if we get that phone call from Sita, now more likely with the crib in place.

Tessa used her artistic talents to put together our window boxes. They look great and with time and TLC will look even better she assured us. It was one of those 10+ days with bright blue skies and full sun. We gardened until we were exhausted and sore. But the reward was instantly visible in happy plants (new soil) and lots of new seedlings in our vegetable garden. We haven’t put up screen around the mesclun and spinach bed and pray that the bunnies don’t read this blog.

We got a taste of both the good and the bad of Afghanistan brought to us by Sabera who arrived late on Saturday for a whirlwind tour of the Boston area. We were very happy that we got to have her all to ourselves for part of that time. After a walk around Smith Point with its exuberant and colorful display of flowering rhododendrons we gave her a taste of Cape Ann and her very first boiled lobster.

Sabera is the president of the Afghan midwives and was in Baltimore to work with researchers from Johns Hopkins on a study that will show that not all money pumped into Afghanistan was wasted. Some children now still have their moms around as a result.

That was the good part. But Sabera and her family are suffering a lot – her dad nearly lost his life in a kidnapping and did lose the use of his right hand in the process of defending himself against a fatal stabbing; a robbery cleared the house of beautiful carpets and a lot of cash, more than I can imagine losing. And if anyone was wondering why it wasn’t in the bank, remember the Kabul Bank mess; they lost all their money their first. Home banking seemed safer. It wasn’t, and nothing is really safer anywhere in Afghanistan.

Waking up in the morning she remarked how she has heard recordings of birds and waves and couldn’t believe that here at Lobster Cove what she heard was the real thing. We talked a lot about the peacefulness that she and countless Afghans are so desperately praying for.  I kept thinking how very unfair the world is. Sabera’s visit was a good reminder of the blessings that we so easily take for granted.

After dropping her off at the house of former colleagues on the way to Newburyport we travelled on to celebrate the 20^th anniversary of our friends Anne and Chuck’s first date. Axel gave a speech about that experience of being at the birth of a love affair that is still blossoming after all these years.

At each call from Western Massachusetts we jump up and think ‘is he coming?’ but then Sita has questions about raising asparagus and knitting and other ordinary things. I had put my money on May 20 but that day has come and gone. My countdown counter says 6 more days till baby Bliss.

No more news on the bruise. It is no longer expanding and looks a lot less scary. Maybe it was the cortisone shot that hit a vein. I am still waiting for the other cortisone shot to have an effect. My ankle has not been very painful, the result of not going for walks. Today I tried a short walk and had to turn home after 10 minutes. I am glad I made an appointment with the top ankle doc at MGH because I need some advice on what is possible. The thought of not being able to go for walks anymore is very depressing.

Today there was an electrical problem in Manchester and we were left without the juice for a good part of the day. It is a startling experience to realize how much of our daily life requires electricity. Without email and internet I was finally able to get some reading done until I needed to check something out on the internet.

That’s when I headed for the public library which has wireless internet access, electrical outlets to plug in and most importantly, electricity. I was not the only one who used the library as a stand-in office.

In burst of serious reading I explored the idea of bookmark stacks on del.ici.us and then of course got lost in other people’s stacks, in particular one on food and recipes.

Axel picked me up and we drove to Gloucester to get some fresh fish. When we returned home the electricity was still off and so the meal we had planned could not be cooked on our (electric) stove; reason to eat out. We invited Woody to join us and found ourselves eating outside in the late afternoon sun with a terrace heater keeping us warm.

The small brown spot that looked like a bruise on my upper right arm was the size of a penny last Saturday. I ignored it. Then another ‘penny’ appeared right above it and now most of my upper arm is yellow and purple.

The physical therapist thought that I was bitten by a tick or a spider but today the nurse, inspecting my arm with a magnifying glass, could not find the place of the bite. We are all puzzled and hope that the blood test will clarify things tomorrow. My right shoulder and upper arm remain a mess.

It was a beautiful evening at Lobster Cove. The rains of the last weeks have colored everything a juicy green. A hummingbird was sipping nectar from the two colorful hanging baskets that came in for mother’s day.

There is much wildlife around our house these days enjoying the new greens. The baby bunny that Sita and Tessa saved from the jaws of Oona about a month ago is hopping around happily and eating all our dandelions. There are enough of those to keep it happy for a while; we hope it won’t discover the salad greens that are just coming up on the other side of the house.

Early in the morning when the day breaks I often see a fox, one a not so healthy looking large male and the other a smaller one, the female I assume, who seems to be better nourished. They sniff at the side of the barn. We think the bunnies are nesting underneath but the fox can’t get in there.

I picked another handful of asparagus. With a little bit of sun after the rains they shoot up like rockets. The potato greens have emerged and the mesclun is like a green blanket, covering the soil with quarter inch sprouts. There are more sprouts but we can’t remember what species they are so we will wait until they articulate themselves a bit more.

In preparation for Axel’s surgery I re-read my blog pages starting on August 4, 2009; a day after my rotator cuff surgery, to find out how long it was before I was able to dress myself, drive to work and even to fly (as it turned out, not very long). I had forgotten, of course, about the unpleasantness; the difficult, long and painful nights, and why having a recliner (the one we gave away) is important for passing those first few nights. And so we are looking for a used recliner so we can give it away again after Axel is put back together.

And then we watched Obama give his Barnard speech – his forward speech – presenting his platform to eager graduates and to the world: a platform that was saturated with messages about girl power. I wondered if Michelle and Hilary (or Sacha and Malia) had a hand in writing it.

There was the usual advice, the usual inspirations about perseverance, not giving up when you are trying to do something important; about long hard work without any visible results for a long time – good advice but not very original.

My favorite part was when he urged the young female graduates to not just get a seat at the table but get the seat at the head of the table.

Today was all about tendons, muscles and ligaments. It started with a trip to Boston to the top shoulder repairman at MGH. After waiting for nearly 2 hours we got to see a brief glimpse of his majesty. It was billed as a pre-op visit but it was essentially a repeat of a previous visit: the same questions, the same demos. We wondered for what purpose we had driven all the way into the city other than providing billable time to the doctor and his assistant and overhead for an enormous supporting cast. One does get cynical about these things.

Surgery is scheduled for June 14, one day before our trip to the Cirque de Soleil (also in Boston). I bought four pricey seats – mostly a fundraiser for a great food growing program in Lynn. We may need to find a replacement for Axel.

The doctor asked if we had a recliner. We used to. We stupidly gave it away, not realizing that we’d need it again. It is the chair I lived in after my rotator cuff surgery for several days.

The trip to MGH took the whole morning. In the afternoon I had shoulder physical therapy. I walked from home, something I realized I can’t do at the moment. While my shoulder was warming up I asked for an icepack for my ankle which is still inflamed – the cortisone shot did little to relieve the swelling and the pain.

In the evening we went to a lecture about ankle and knee problems given by two orthopedes from MGH. I have made an appointment with the top ankle doctor from MGH for a second opinion, or rather the question, what will help me walk without pain again?

The lectures were excellent and I (re) learned a few things I already knew, but the illustrations of torn ligaments and tendon tears where quite compelling: if it hurts don’t do it; stretch and warm up and keep the joints moving. MGH gave us a light box lunch by way of dinner (the talk was after all from 6 to 8PM) and a (non alcoholic) drink exchange for this very educational infomercial. We noticed the competing hospital is now putting on a similar series. I image there are enough ankle and knee injuries to keep all the north shore orthopedes in business for years to come.

The girls pulled out all the stops for mother’s day. It was a two day event that started with dinner ‘en plein air’ (at Lobster Cove), followed by a concert in Rockport’s spectacular Shalin Liu Performance Center where we enjoyed a wonderful concert by the Parkington Sisters from Wellfleet, violin virtuosae and not unaccomplished on an assortment of other instruments.

Today, on mother’s day proper we had a high tea in Rockport at the Heath Tea Room. I was treated to an English high tea: a pot of Darjeeling, finger sandwiches, a scone with clotted cream, and some other dainties, all presented on a 3-level étagère.

Sandwiched in between those joyful events was another celebration but this one of a life that has passed. We drove to the South Shore to join a few colleagues in expressing our support for our bereaved colleague who lost her second son in three years. Life can be very cruel.

Our grandson-to-be was not delivered on mother’s day – it would have been a lovely mother’s day gift but he’s decided otherwise. He has maneuvered himself into the launch position. His mom is certainly ready to let him go.

We said goodbye at the end of this wonderful weekend hoping for a speedy reunion. Since the future mom and dad were each born 8 days early we calculated that we could be meeting our new grandson as soon as next Sunday.

The girls pulled out all the stops for mother’s day. It was a two day event that started with dinner ‘en plein air’ (at Lobster Cove), followed by a concert in Rockport’s spectacular Shalin Liu Performance Center where we enjoyed a wonderful concert by the Parkington Sisters from Wellfleet, violin virtuosae and not unaccomplished on an assortment of other instruments.

Today, on mother’s day proper we had a high tea in Rockport at the Heath Tea Room. I was treated to an English high tea: a pot of Darjeeling, finger sandwiches, a scone with clotted cream, and some other dainties, all presented on a 3-level étagère.

Sandwiched in between those joyful events was another celebration but this one of a life that has passed. We drove to the South Shore to join a few colleagues in expressing our support for our bereaved colleague who lost her second son in three years. Life can be very cruel.

Our grandson-to-be was not delivered on mother’s day – it would have been a lovely mother’s day gift but he’s decided otherwise. He has maneuvered himself into the launch position. His mom is certainly ready to let him go.

We said goodbye at the end of this wonderful weekend hoping for a speedy reunion. Since the future mom and dad were each born 8 days early we calculated that we could be meeting our new grandson as soon as next Sunday.

I feel like I have been lifted up into a creative cloud and I am happier than I have been in a long time. It has indeed been a long time. For the last few years I have not been very creative (knitting and embroidery doesn’t count as it is done from a pattern someone else created). My poetry had dried up (no new entries for a long long time), and I found myself reacting perversely to all the exhortations to ‘think out of the box,’ by crawling deeper into it.

My facilitation of a virtual course, my work on proposals, my writing of an e-learning course are combining to have a cumulative effect that has propelled me into the kind of creative thinking and exploration I had forgotten how to do. This is the funny thing about creativity (or innovation for that matter): it cannot be harnessed, it cannot be summoned.

Now, with what looks like enough work to fill my eight hours a day, I am released from that anxiety. And without travel on the horizon (not until after the Fourth of July) I am able to plash around in possibilities and ideas, and it changes everything.

It may not only be the work conditions that are responsible for this change. I have started to make a habit of doing a 15 minute silent meditation early in the morning and it is starting to have its effect – 15 minutes now passes by very quickly where at first it seemed like an hour. I can actually silence the verbal chatter. The visual chatter is still there but I can even shut that out for a few minutes at a time. I can slow my breath (and heartbeat to follow in tandem) and when I am done I feel like I can take on any challenge in the world with a calm intentionality.