So. Many. Transitions.  How do we manage them all in our lives today?  Mine seem acute right at this moment – moving from a Rainbow Gathering back into what is termed “Babylon”.  So basically unplugged and in a different world for a couple of weeks back into a very plugged in, very tethered world.

This trip I have been on the road for 7 weeks…..each day much like the other, when traveling in the van.  I joke I am going to put a perpetual calendar in the Roadtrek to tell me what day it is and what the date is.  So different than life at home where the day it is determines the activity of the day.  But both awesome and enjoyed, in their own ways.  It’s just the transitions that take time for me and my brain.  The living in the moment of either world works well, I have found, but the brain needs time to segue in and out of modes.  At least mine does.

It’s a privilege to live in both these worlds.  I take none of it for granted.  Right now the van is parked outside of my son and his wife’s world and they have allowed the man child and I to step into their lives for a few days.  We’ll celebrate the man child’s golden birthday here (14 on the 14th) with a few surprises his older brother has planned.  Memories in the making.  And I’ll continue to process the transitions in my brain while living fully in the moment.  I don’t know how else to do it.

Sweet new friend, Dario, and I at the evening gathering at Rainbow.  He spent much time teaching me photography and walked miles to his car to get me a replacement SD card when mine malfunctioned.  Enjoyed our time Dario!

Some journeys aren’t meant for the road

Some journeys aren’t meant to be on the road and I’ve been on one in my head lately.  Working through some things; seeing truth in others.  I am amazed at how we see things dimly, most times, with the bravado of certainy, but, really, truly, things aren’t always as certain as they seem.

Coming home from a quick trip to Chicago this weekend, I finally erased the 85 podcasts that I didn’t have room to download on my phone.  It hurt me to do that with so much wisdom waiting to be gleaned.  They’ve been there months and months, but the “stress” of seeing that “85” every time I looked down and the realization that the freedom from thinking I was backed up on podcast listening was more needed than whatever wisdom might be there, so gone they were. I did find it interesting though that one podcast that I erased stayed in my phone and started playing when I got in the car.  I just let it roll, thinking it surely must have had wisdom I needed in this hour.  And it was filled with it.  The chief thing I think I needed to hear was “people weren’t the problem.  (Thanks Kris Valloton.)  I have been chewing on that.  I mean, I knew it, but it’s sunk deep now and opened a door of thought I needed to go through.

I am more at peace after that trip.  Amazing what a good piece of cheesecake, some quilt fabric shopping and some time out of circumstances alone will do.  That and the wisdom gleaned from hours of podcasts and the ability to put some space between life’s circumstances and my response to them.  Journeys are a gift – both those in the world and those in the mind.




You can’t always get what you want / But if you try sometimes well you might find you get what you need (The Rolling Stones)

This is a magical tale and all true…..


The young man and I were on a trip to sunny Florida, headed down to serve.  I had had it in my spirit to pray a dog would drop into our laps, mainly as that’s about the only way we could bring a dog back to the family as the hubby and father of this family had shut the door on any more dogs.

Sonny boy, aka the young man, had pined for a puppy for 5 long years, after the passing of our sweet Skippy when he was about 8 (young man).  Pined, prayed, waited – patiently and impatiently – believing, I think, in the impossible as Daddy-O kept saying no way, no how.


Never say never has become a philosophy of mine.  I truly believe in a God who delights, many times, in doing the impossible, as it seemed the dog situation at our house was.

As we headed home, dog-less still, the young man was looking at rescue dogs, pounds and all things dog online.

But there’s a big difference between dogs dropping in your lap and going and making it happen, and I really felt we’d have a better chance getting Dad’s blessing with a miracle dog.

And then Monday happened.  We travel in a class B RV, Roadtrek by name, and had pulled over Sunday night while still in the FL panhandle.  The only thing nearby, as this tired momma needed to sleep, was a WalMart, known for their friendliness to overnight stops.  So stop we did.  The next morning, we headed in to buy some supplies for the long trip home.  There sat a Rainbow Family member, Little Breeze by name, with one dog on a leash and one dog on a string.  As we asked after Little Breeze, he shared how he came about this string dog.


Let me say one thing – the young man had shared with me his dream dog – down to the age, breed and look – and I knew the moment Breeze shared about this dog that we had just met “The Dog” and the “dropped in our lap” requirements.

Sure enough, Breeze was willing to share, as he had only gotten the dog to save it from being taken to the pound.  Even more willing, since we were Rainbow Family, leaving a gathering and heading home.

We hurried in to buy a leash, some food and a collar, young man all amazed at this turn of events.  I cannot say I was overly surprised though, after all it had been in my heart.  And I believe that God’s just good like that, caring about the dreams of 13 year old boys.

Pablo is now home.  Nails trimmed, tics gone, and adjusting to a family after being abandoned for a bit.  (That’s when Little Breeze came upon him.)  Hubby has been gracious and even hooked up the dog run in our back yard that Skippy used to use.  I’ve been taking daily walks with Pablo, which I never made a priority to do for myself, and I see how far this blessing was meant to extend.

Never say never.  Never believe you know the way it’s got to be.  Stay open to the miracle.  Say yes to the gift.  In the end I trust…

…We don’t always get what we want…but if we try sometime, we might just get what we need.


The Magical Mystery Tour



I have this lovely daughter (well, two actually) but I am talking of my oldest here. She’s strong, like her momma, both in a good and bad way. All of you with strong kiddos know exactly what I mean. I have found that bribery, something I said I would NEVER resort to in my young and foolish days (pre-children), works just fine whether your kiddo is young or old, and so bribery it was and thus the Magical Mystery Tour was birthed.


Three days, three nights, no knowledge of where the heck we were going (other than knowing where we would end up and that was the reason for the bribe). I must say, for someone as strong-willed as she is, she did mystery just fine. For my end, I made darn sure it was an awesome trip filled with things she would love (i.e. breweries cuz any trip is made better with a brewery, or five, stop).


Day 1/Night 1 – Surprise! – your sweet sister-in-law is coming and off we went to stay with them, just a hop, skip and a jump down the pike. Young man got dropped off here with his older brother so there were smiles all around.


Day 2 – Out the door as early as we could muster. Did I mention mystery?   You see this trip unfolded like the “Choose your own Adventure” books she remembered growing up – the girls chose the direction we would go based on any one of the envelopes available in the moment. So there were 3 to 4 possible directions we would head based on their envelope choice, all with sticker clues, some very obtuse, on the front.   And, just for fun, I had thrown in quite a few things I liked to do, so it wasn’t only things that floated their boat, making it even more mysterious. First stop, the Cincinnati Art Museum, free entry (parking $4) with an exhibit of Divine Felines: Cats of Ancient Egypt. This was a sure-fire pleaser as both gals are cat lovers. It was a fun stop, the exhibit excellent and it was a hoot to shop the gift store and see the $500 print for sale. I thoroughly enjoyed the Modern Cats exhibit too, in which prose was paired with cat pictures in a fun and whimsical way.  We could have spent a long time here as their museum’s collection looks quite extensive, but we had a mystery schedule, more or less, and mystery was calling.

The next envelope sent us over to Cincinnati’s historic Over-the-Rhine Brewery District. As luck would have it, we stumbled upon Findlay Market in the process and stopped here for lunch and to look around. This is a not-to-be-missed stop, filled with lots of food options and many market stalls plus some venders. Two of us opted for the choose your own salad combo while one of us went for the waffle sandwich with brie, ham, pesto and apple. All very yummy.


Next stop: Rhinegeist Brewery, one block away. We kept our car at the Market and walked over. We delightfully discovered two bar areas: one rooftop and the other inside a 5-story building, coverted to brewery and pub. The view was great from the rooftop. Beer also good, according to the taste testers I had brought along. (Our crew voted this the best atmosphere of the 5 Ohio breweries we visited this trip). After a quick visit with an area friend, we were off again on our journey. Next stop – The Friends of the Cincinnati library sale where I could have stayed all day. More on this next post!

Inspiration from a random moment – Tales from the Trail Part II



I am reminiscing tonight about all things Rainbow. It was a glorious time, truly, and an experience I will never forget, those days at Rainbow Gathering. Tonight C was in my heart and I thought of the sweet young man, not a kid really, but at least 3 decades younger than I. I had seen C hanging out at Jesus Kitchen for a couple of days in a row, this kid of a man, tall and straight with the nicest smile and the most liquid honey-filled eyes.


Finally, after the hustle of filtering water that some kind soul had carried up the hill in a 5 gallon jug, I went to the campfire to sit a spell and there C was, eating some breakfast and looking somewhat pensive.


One always wonders if they should jump in when someone’s pensive, at least this one wonders: leave them to their thoughts or get sociable? Will they share? Will it make a difference? Are you interrupting? Knock, knock. Who’s there? Interrupting Cow. Mooooo – you know the joke.


But those decades have taught me something and he was a kind, young man and so we began to talk. Turns out we had a lot in common, mainly a guy named Jesus, whom we both knew by name, and that’s always a fun place to share from. I like to listen to my heart when someone is sharing theirs because sometimes, just sometimes, thoughts, feelings or words “pop” in and I have learned it’s kind of important to share these seemingly random things because they aren’t so random.


So at an somewhat appropriate moment, I asked if I could share, wanting the okay of this dignified young man, and since it was going to be, kind of, you know, random. He gave the okay and I blurted out, “I see a purity in your eyes.” I watched as, like an arrow, the words went straight to his heart and tears sprang forth. This is how you know it’s not just you, it’s not just random and the words were given to accomplish a holy purpose.


Turns out his grandfather had quite the opinion about the Rainbow Festival, though grandpa had never been there, and it wasn’t really all that grand. C used the word, “evil”, which sounded really harsh to me, but who was I to judge? But it had hurt C’s heart, I think, to feel so pulled to a place, for whatever reason, and have the intent of his heart so misjudged by someone he obviously cared for. At least that was my take on it. So I guess purity was an affirmation to C that he needed to hear.


I ran into C a lot over the next few days as he came and went. I truly don’t know what his mission was or reason for his being at the Rainbow Gathering. That wasn’t mine to know. I hope he went home and had stories to share with his grandfather. Stories that blessed grandpa and showed him a little more than the judgment he had moved in that had wounded a precious grandson. Stories that clearly showed the motivation of C’s heart and helped grandfather see the purity in those liquid honey-filled eyes.


A Dred-full Day!



Well, this is going to be a bit of shocker for some people (like my extended family), but yesterday I started the journey into dreds. Yep, all 55 years of me. It’s been brewing a couple of years – this thought that I needed to get dreds. Now I am counting that thought as divinely-inspired and straight-from-the-throne-room as dreds are about the last thing I would ever spend my money on.

But after chewing on it, like a cow with a cud, two years later I have spit it back up and dreds it is.

It did make a whole lot more sense to me as I felt so called to the Rainbow Gathering where there’s a whole lot of dreds going on. But in my own eyes, and in the perceptions of the world, this is not who I have been or am. I mean sure, crunchy momma tendencies (just ask my kiddos) but my view of myself has been far more suburban momma with a bit of religious crunchy thrown in and dreds are not part of that m.o.  At least in my brain.

Evidence “A” for Suburban Mom status

I’ve been pondering, in the three weeks since I have pursued this decision, and what I have come to realize is that much of this is going to be a humbling experience.   Humbling me. Humbling my pride in who I think I am, how far I think I have come and where I think I am going. That kind of humbling ~ the best kind of humbling I think. Stripping any pride I have in my wonderfully wavy hair, the way I am perceived by those around me, the way I have, frankly, used those perceptions to work for me and for my best interests. Oh it’s an ugly can of worms I’ve uncovered as I have chewed this cud.

Whole lotta grey going on here ~ more than I realized, lol!

So yesterday I sat in a backyard, a neighbor’s pool area and next to a river, for hours, while a sweet new friend put this formerly pretty mop into dreds. And you know what, the humbling already has begun. I frankly look like Pippy Longstocking, only older. It’s messy and I was hoping it would be somewhat stylish in some way. It’s not. It’s going to take a few months, says my new friend, before they lock in and look more like dreds. My young man advised me this morning to cut them off. But I’m too cheap for that. I paid good money to look like Old Pippy here and so I move forward.

How I envisioned it would look.  (Sorry no idea what website I pulled this from.)

Not sure where this all ends up, but I’ll shoot a few photos now and again and keep you posted on this new epic journey. I am also going to see how perceptions change, my own and maybe even others, and I’ll dialogue about that too.

 Dreds day 1. Pippy indeed!

As my young man summed it up yesterday, “My mom has done some crazy things, but this is the craziest of them all!” That may be, but in the end, I am still his mom. Nothing changed there.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker make me a match!


The site of the 2016 Rainbow Gathering in the Vermont mountains.

Did I mention I have become the matchmaker for a sweet Jewish male, 40-ish, whom I met at the Rainbow Gathering? Truly, all things are possible. It’s a magical kinda-place, a Rainbow Gathering, where conventional rules seem to be forgotten. Barter is favored as no money changes hands; meals are free if you are hungry and your needs seem to be supplied, even from those around you who will give all they have if you need it. Or so it seemed to me.


I found myself “stuck” during a driving rainstorm, under some tarps and around a blazing fire at Home Shalom, one of the two Jewish camps at the Rainbow Gathering. We had gone to visit, and then the rain had started and my friend and I found ourselves without ponchos or umbrellas as a sea of mud started to form in the hours and hours of rain that was to follow.


We were welcomed, oh so welcomed, and loved, oh so loved, us two women huddled in their camp chairs hoping to soak up some warmth. Meanwhile, folks cooked and as the rain continued and my tummy rumbled, I willed the nourishing food to hurry up so I could put in where it belonged and stop the hunger. Sure enough, a while later we were ushered to the feast and ate our fill of baked eggplant, cooked garbanzo beans, tzatziki and other yummy things all piled onto our bliss, which was the one thing I did think to bring. (Bliss being the Rainbow name for something to eat from.) Not knowing I would end up away from camp for hours, I had given my water to someone on the trail who had asked, but filtered water was there and after finishing my meal, I used my plate to drink some. Ah, bliss indeed.


Shortly after, Shabbat started, a wonderful singing time of joy and celebration and all gathered began to celebrate together – reformed Jews, Orthodox Jews, Hasidic Jews, Gentiles and everyone else who stumbled into camp to escape the deluge. The sounds of Shabbat brought many in from the trail and out of the woods – and I watched as person after person celebrated Shabbat. We danced around the fire celebrating a God who loves us. It continued for hours. I was fascinated to see the men taking the lead in this celebration, and realized how much we’ve missed it in Christianity where we are all restrained and pent up and feel self-conscious as we raise our hand to worship our God. Oh that my Christian brothers would celebrate God as these men did.


I met Wilson just before Shabbat, I think, or maybe it was during.  I don’t remember. We talked, he explained, and we enjoyed the company. Two days later I ran into him again on the trail and we talked for a long, long time. It was then I became a matchmaker. I think of the song from the movie, Fiddler on the Roof, “Matchmaker, Matchmaker Make me a Match” mashing with Beyoncé’s “All you Single Ladies”. Anything can happen at a Rainbow Gathering.


So all you single ladies – Wilson is looking for you. Late 20’s through the 30’s preferably. Jewish currently or willing to convert. Home-oriented. His offer is stable, kind and Jewish male. Self-employed and pilots planes for fun. Currently in New York but willing to relocate – maybe Texas, possibly Florida. Lots of brothers and sisters, more than a dozen dearly loved nephews & nieces. I am not sure why this man is not married. Maybe his dreams stretch so much further than the area he lives in. He believes it the will of God we met. Somehow so do I.

Welcome Home! Of a different variety.

Indiana Road Sign

Sweet home Indiana!  After 13 days and numerous van issues (transmission fun) it was without a doubt, a great joy to enter into Indiana.  For the first time in a long time, I return filled with joy & hope, knowing without a doubt the way forward into the future and why I am situated where I am at this point in my life.

Does leaving all that you have and stepping into an alternate reality like the Rainbow Gathering morph out to create waves into your own life?  It cannot help but do so.  I don’t think I have EVER been so grateful for hot showers, warm beds, washing machines, toilets that flush (and aren’t in the ground) and all those creature comforts we Americans take for granted.  Running water!  How could I forget that!  But beyond creature comforts, for me, the Gathering has helped coalesce and focus a whole host of things to point me in a direction from which there is no return.

After 6 days in the woods, this was a glorious site to see!  Hotel toilet.


Look for more posts in the days ahead.  In the meantime, you’ll notice our tag line has changed – the man child leaves “tween” behind to enter “teen” this next week.  I made it home for that big event (Thank you God!) and Monday we begin the celebration of him and his moving from man child to man teen?  Man-in-training?  Man of the moment?  I don’t know.  I’ll give it some thought.  Man child is growing up, as we all are, and after so many events in this last week, which only appeared on my radar well after they occurred, I am going to celebrate his coming of age at such a time as this and all that is planned for his sweet life.

Celebrate with us folks!  Celebrate life!  Celebrate toilets!  Choose gratitude today.  What do you have in your life that you are thankful for?  I know for many, life is hard and filled with tough choices.  But I challenge you to choose just one thing today to celebrate with a sense of gratitude.



Tales from the trail – Part 1


I am sharing my tales from the trail, to tell you of the deep, deep impact this event had on my life, not to begin a discussion or deep dialogue on rights or wrongs, and how those things play out. I am not a theologian but a lover of all people and seek to learn to love more as I walk through this life. As such, if you would like to comment, please do. But hurtful comments that divide us rather than help us unite and walk in love will be excluded from publication. Please understand that there are other sites willing to discuss those things. This story exists solely to share about the Rainbow People and my visit to them and to help others, especially my Christian brothers & sisters, perhaps understand a world so different than their own.


I have just returned from the Annual Rainbow Gathering held in the hills of Vermont. I was a Rainbow “virgin” and have come out a much different person than I went in.

I worked with a group called Jesus Kitchen, serving food, filtered water and coffee to those at the gathering – Jesus believers or not – and listening to stories, oh so many stories, shared around the circle we sat at morning, noon and night.

One of the most impactful, to me, was that of P. The day after I arrived, I heard P call out from our steps (we were situated up the side of a hill), “Can a pagan transgender come into the camp?” This alone broke my heart. That any one of God’s children would feel excluded in our camp or not welcome to come to the circle of light and love made me sad.

We ushered P in and she sat down and began to share her story with all of us – unbidden but welcomed, as all stories were welcomed. It was a tale of hurt and heartbreak involving things that couldn’t even be told as we had children in the circle. Most disturbing to me was that the horrible things P had suffered had been in a church. Things you don’t mention when children are present. Things that make scars run deep and pain stay fresh.

P asked to share a song. Music, P said, was what got her through the tough times. One song after another followed, and, at the end, three beautiful hymns were sung – tender and filled with emotion. My eyes were not dry.

After, P began to talk of the things of God. Scripture was not unknown to this pagan gentle person and she told stories of sharing the word on the streets of New Orleans with street preachers and many asking in that city how a pagan could share the word of God.

Anomalies run deep, don’t they? I don’t use that phrase as if P were the anomaly. The situation was that thing. Sitting in a circle of love and light listening to the resonating word of God from one so judged and considered by some not worthy to deliver it.

P did not return to Jesus Kitchen, at least when I was there. But I saw P on my last day of the Rainbow Gathering, dressed this time in the opposite persona. He was preparing to play an instrument and share of that deep love of music with yet another crowd.


‘Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in here the poor and the maimed and the lame and the blind.’ 22 And the servant said, ‘Master, it is done as you commanded, and still there is room.’ Luke 14:21b – 22 NKJV



All names have been changed to protect the identity of the person involved as my heart to is protect their dignity. If I have failed to do that in any way, please forgive me. The failing is mine.

BBQ, Blues and headed to Bayous – Mississippi & Louisiana

This was our first trip to this area of the country and we were really looking forward to it.   For the man child and I, 70% of the enjoyment of the trip is just the drive – looking out the windshield at all there is to see and exactly what it looks like. I think parts of it are imprinted in our brains. I know that’s the case with my brain as there are many times I take those imprints out from the place they are stored in my mind, and bring them up to remember again. And so it was with this trip – delightfully so.


My favorite sight in Memphis ~ gas at this price!

We hit Mississippi after a night in Memphis. (That will be a different blog post.) It’s very flat in the north of the state. Lots and lots of casinos sit on the Mississippi River but we passed those by. Our plan was to coast down the Great River Road and we had been following those Great River Road signs down the Mississippi for a couple of states.   One problem though – the Mississippi delta is flat and low and so all we really saw for miles and miles were levees built to keep the Mississippi out of the delta. Big levees. Levees so big you cannot see the Mississippi River when driving. After a while even our highway was built up on a levee. And as we had elected to follow the Great River Road we missed most of the Blues trail. Not a huge miss as we aren’t big Blues fans, but nonetheless, it probably would have been more interesting than hour after hour of farmland and levee. Most of my attention, at this point, went to maintaining the van on top of the levee road.

The levee in Natchez from the Visitors Center.


We were, however, delighted with the Mississippi Welcome Center on intersection of Highway 49 and Highway 61. We’ve made it a point to stop at these and this one was a delight. Built to resemble antebellum mansions, this one had an exhibit of Native American artifacts found on site. The gals manning the center were so helpful too. We took a couple of hours to have lunch in the parking lot and I noticed an RV dump, along with picnic tables, grill and RV parking. Apparently all their centers throughout the state were this well equipped. My guess is you could ask permission to stay the night onsite. We’ll definitely remember to stop at these next time we are back in Mississippi.


As we continued along our way, we came across the Winterville Indian mounds site. We parked and went into the small museum (free admittance). The tour started with a short video about the history of the area and the Indians who lived there and some background on the Mounds. We walked out the back of the museum and went over to the largest mound to see them up close. It was definitely worth the stop. It’s located on State Hwy 1, about six miles north of Greenville, Mississippi and the museum is open daily. I also noted the grounds must get very gorgeous in spring, as the local garden society has done lots of planting. There was also a pond on the property. It looked like the gate was locked nightly or this would make a great place to boondock.


Next up, Natchez.  As we had arrived at night in Natchez I didn’t want to spend time driving around so when we came upon a Wal Mart, that’s where we stopped.   Next morning, we drove the town delighting in the houses and how different than our own region they looked. The Natchez Visitor Center had been recommended and it was worth the stop. There is a huge area museum inside and a viewing area for the Mississippi. A National Parks site sits inside the Visitors Center with a very reasonable charge to see a movie of the area. It also it looked like boondocking in the parking lot was a no-brainer as the lot is huge. (Plus it looked like a couple of people were doing just that.) A better tip, if parking is allowed, was a large parking lot right on the Mississippi in a lot on South Broadway in the old downtown area.  I imagine, though, that in the summer there were be lots of people and cars choking this lot, but since it was February, that wasn’t an issue. The view down the Mississippi from this lot was spectacular.


Continuing on, the topography changed the further south we got and Mississippi got super hilly and very piney and quite beautiful. (Still no bayous though.) But we so enjoyed the view out the window. Along the way, signs were popping up for antebellum houses and plantations and tours.  Add this to my bucket list.  We didn’t stop that day, as the man-child had absolutely no interest in seeing an antebellum house.


We coasted into Louisiana. After a quick overnight at the Cracker Barrel in Gonzales, Louisiana (RV parking behind the Cracker Barrel) and a stop at a few of their stores to drop some cash (who would have thought I would finally score the size 12 women’s black boots with the larger calf on a clearance rack in LA?), we headed on to Baton Rouge. Located right on the Mississippi River there is an old section of town (and an old and new statehouse) and we so enjoyed seeing it all. In my mind’s eye I could just see the trade and hustle and bustle down this river and into this town in ages past. We had a lovely lunch stop in Capitol Park and man-child grabbed the fishing pole and tried to catch a fish or two in the ponds. His main concern that an alligator would come out to eat him never came to pass (thank goodness) and while he fished, I tidied up the van. Both of us were basking in the warmth of 68 degrees, he after changing into shorts and a t-shirt. For us northerners, yes, 68 is warm. Especially considering we had word of a blizzard up where we lived. We were ever so glad to be in warm weather!

Later it was off the New Orleans. We had a couple of state parks in mind.   We’ll share that adventure in another blog post.  And what did BBQ have to do with all of this you ask?  We stopped and ate it whenever possible.  The BBQ joints got fewer and further between the further south we went (in favor of fish places).  The best thing we did was buy it by the pound to have in the Roadtrek as we went.  NOM, NOM. NOM.