I've been ...
plugging away?
adjusting?
hiding?
living and letting live...
-cooking, when I find the time: mostly soups and desserts, for me and Grandma, sometimes treats for friends, family, workmates.
-neglecting my aikido again.
-occupied with lots of evening meetings, and a few dates.
-enjoying an extended birthday celebration including time with family and friends, including those who missed the day itself.
-getting more deeply involved in the swirl of activities and meetings and friendships and minor miracles that characterize City Repair.
-shopping for Grandma on a perpetual cycle...
-attending church once or twice a month

Most exciting moments lately: The live orange tree on my desk opened its first fragrant blossom March 1st, the same day that I suddenly got to stand in and represent City Repair to a group of 17 international delegates on a World Affairs Council tour. They loved us, and we took them on a little walk through the neighborhood that made a nice change from their bus-and-fuss tour schedule.

Most frustrating lately: budgeting by consensus. If you don't like herding cats, try activist cats, some of whom consider herding to be a form of social oppression, and most of whom have seniority over you (as well as essential, awe-inspiring assets to contribute).

Most peaceful moments lately: when every little box in my calendar has been ticked, there's food in the fridge and in the cats' bowls, Grandma and I sit down to a hot dinner together, and take a few breaths before we say grace.

And one more memory for the road:
I went on my first mass bike tour last month, somewhere between 70-100 riders showed up for a "village bike tour" of City Repair projects in SE Portland. The best moment was coming around a corner in Ladd's Addition, to find the whole pack circling, three or four deep, around one of the little diamond-shaped traffic circles.

There was something fluid and whimsical and surreal about it: chasing our own tail around and around, gliding like a fish in a school, form without intention. And all the other fish as surprised as you to discover that they are suddenly fish. This shift from going-somewhere mode to whimsical-mode, experienced simultaneously by a hundred kindred spirits smiling and laughing with the same delight.

When the last of the "tail" had merged into the loop, the "head" suddenly identified itself again, and we were off on our route. Some riders repeated the circling at the big "Ladd's Circle" on our way, just for emphasis, as we flowed on to our next destination.

Remembering, I'm also struck by the silence that accompanies a hundred bicyclists. A slight whirring, a little heavy breathing from the "classic" crowd, and the murmur of dozens of conversations as people find their own meaning in the experience.