Francie's Blog Posts ~ enjoy

Long Beach—Friday Morning, March 7 Eight and a half weeks since The Fire. Shock, disorientation, immediate moment by moment survival…this has setlled…and now? The longer

Wednesday Morning, February 26, Long Beach An astrological ‘thing’ describing the inner and outer affects of the extraordinary planetary alignment that is approaching and where

Tuesday Morning, February 25—Long Beach A bit of levity. Yes. I am blessed. Yes. I have landed in a spot near the ocean and am

PROLOGUE Concord, New Hampshire Mid 50’s Before India, my father was the minister of the First Congregational Church in Concord, New Hampshire. Our family’s life

Saturday Afternoon—February 22—Long Beach It has almost been 7 weeks since the fire. For the world ‘out there’ it is a time of no time.

Long Beach, Tuesday Morning, February 18 Tenderness. Tenderness lives in our hearts and souls, BUT during times of trauma it gets tossed about and often

Monday Afternoon—February 17— Long Beach Long Beach? Yes. A week ago today was my last day in my Mount Washington retreat apres the fire. My

Tuesday, February 11, Mount Washington My sparkling pink and turquoise fingernails are the gift of Goddess Indra. otheriwise known to me as Raindrop Rosebud.  This

Tuesday, February 11, Mount Washington As the world throbs with upset during this time, human beings’ innate natural spirit of caring, connection, generosity and standing

Tuesday, February 11, Mount Washington Five weeks ago this morning I woke up in my Malibu bed, greeting the birds, the trees and the day

Friday Evening, January 31—Mount Washington Having heard yesterday that one could now acquire a certificate from Malibu City Hall that would allow one to go

Thursday, January 30—Marina Del Rey Even though my introduction to the world of CBD gummies was wondrously fun, I have not actually partaken any. They

Chinese New Year and the Year of the Snake arrive today. Snakes. Snake medicine, snake mythology, culturally passionately polarizing.  Who really knows a snake? Who

January 28, Evening, Mount Washington Three weeks ago today, in tandem with the fiire, my historically low blood pressure decided to re-create itself and sky

Mount Washington, Monday Morning, January 27 I grew up in South India. As a tiny girl, the ‘custom’ was for American children of missionaries and

The Temple Of Leaves Every human choses how to ride the waves of life, how to show up to others, and how connected to be

Sunday Evening—Mount Washington A few days ago, a daddy longlegs, with gangly wildly unpredictable dancing legs, catalyzed a flash for me on Danny Kaye in

Wednesday Night Riding the wave of surrender and healing is as indiviual as we humans are. Personally, the shock, then the tears, then a verison

Tuesday Evening—One week after……                                          

As the fire was coming and there was no time to THINK, I grabbed a few little hats sitting on the table that I had

The fire burned my home. Every treasure from artwork, to books, to my mother’s diary, to photos, to my father’s briefcase, to creations of my

January 5, 2025, Malibu Spontaneous sharing here. On this human trek, I have bid farewell to NUMEROUS crucial comrades…meaning they have died and I have

January 1, 2025, Marina Del Rey Pondering in the wandering, ever transfixed humorously by what appears. I spy, with my hazely eyes, sea birds and

2025! Here we go! And I thank you ALL!!!!! Here, There, and Everywhere, you magic wanded my birthday with warmth and exuberance and phone calls

Happy New Year to you ALL!!!!! Happy Birthday to ME!!!!!! YES, my beginnings and endings happen all at once. In astrology, Capricorns youthen as they

We bless this year for all we learned, For all we loved and lost And for the quiet way it brought us Nearer to our

December 21, 2024—The Solstice—-Malibu One week and one day ago PCH was opened and those evacuated for the Franklin Fire were allowed to return home.

Beverly HIlls, December 20, 2024 Whilst pumping gas, a woman at the next pump whimpering to her partner, “I’m lost.” Shuttling to a crisis call

Malibu, December 20, 2024 Tomorrow the winter solstice.   A cellular rush,  apres le Franklin Fire, is just now relaxing.  For one who has forever

MALIBU, December 10, 2024 Maybe one day in the grass green sky… But not today. Last night,  or was it this morning? Knock Knock Knock

Tenafly, New Jersey, Mid 1960’s Whilst acclimating to life in America after having lived years in India there was MUCH to get used to. Christmas

Malibu, December 2024 Fog laden, wind wild, light piercing, or roseblushed still. No matter what the world is doing, singing perches outside my window in

Open your arms and your heart to peace. Breathe in calm. Invite angels or guides or Ganesh or whoever your supporting beings are to allow

November 2024, Malibu The creatures are misbehaving. The fires are burning north of here. I was called to ‘help’. It mystifies me that there is

Cyber Monday.
Vas is das?

Two sea lions dipping and diving like giant sloths….

Every single one of us is alone in the world. It takes courage to meet the full force of this. Until we learn to inhabit

Waban, Massachusetts, 1960 We sailed for India in 1957 and returned to the States seven years later,  HOWEVER right in the middle, in 1960, we

I wonder what it is to be you. Somewhere from my ancient past, THIS:  (Did I read this or hear it or know it when

Charleston, South Carolina—1985 The Spoleto Arts Festival was spectacularly in full bloom, with Charleston throbbing and spilling over with musical, theatrical and dancing artists from

Last night I treated myself to watching ‘Ladies in Lavendar’, being reminded of this gentle, innocent, magical story with the news of Maggie Smith passing

I think I’ll call Mom. Oh, that’s right, Mom….You….left 17 years ago…as  in your body….not sure you actually left as I feel you all the

Every year on this day, phone calls and messages come through and waves of wonder, sadness, gratitude, and love blow through my heart. I was

Oh Sacred Day! Mom. Seventeen years ago you left….you set yourself free….and I see that it was perfect…now. You ignited a chapter…you lit a fire…family

“And so here we are”, said the spider to the fly. “Yes indeedy”, said the fly to the spider. “What to make of IT?” said

February 1968, Northfield School, Northfield, Massachusetts Then: On a freezing evening in a chilly auditorium, the weekend movie had been announced but as not many

A spider and I have accidentally grown a relationship, and I know that my mother is smiling. Back story: Perhaps because of ‘Charlotte’s Web’, perhaps

In the midst of the froth from heaviness and  confusion to joy and hope, a dragon card appeared with a message for us all in

Clockwork Orange, poisonous toads and saving the crocodiles. Yesterday while driving up PCH I was drawn into an NPR report on crocodiles in Australia being

The moon, pale as swan wings, watched as they moved over the blue. The swan felt the warm weight of the woman resting on his

As I watched a miniscule bee traverse one kitchen tile back and forth, back and forth, he/she was clearly befuddled. A tiny voice tinkled out

HAPPY BIRTHDAY my darling MELANIE!!!! What you bring, who you are… there are no words, only music and awe and wonder that you chose ME

July 22, 1976…Excelsior, Minnesota Nine months pregnant, the weather was hot, the mosquitoes were feasting on every bit of flesh they could find, and I

Perhaps because I do not express my political opinions publicly, the supposition seems to be that I am uninformed….perhaps…because I have received at least TWO

My hood is inhabited by numerous Trump supporters as well as numerous non humans. It seems that the non humans are more tuned into the

Down by the sea, this elegant adorable spindly legged graceful creature struggled with itself over ‘Do I go into the water? Do I not go

The coast has been invaded by boisterous partying heat escapees. The pelicans do not seem pleased, the sea lions are keeping their distance and the

Yesterday evening,  standing on the edge of my bluff, beholding the golden light, soft winds and rustling leaves above the ever expansive sea and feeling that all really is well with the world in spite of…..

The Santa Anas have arrived in fulll glorious might resulting in a myriad of responses.

Tiny birds, as in so small that one could sit comfortably in the palm of one’s hand…

Meandering by the sea lions after a debacle with my bank….

Recently the words ‘ If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you’ crossed my path.

Sitting at a stoplight on PCH, a small creature that is not the usual four legged vagabond in this hood,  scampered out into the middle of the intersection…

Three days after the three days of isolation that the atmospheric deluge commanded.

During my flu recovery this week, I began watching a mystery and withiin the first five mnutes knew everything that would happen and who had DONE IT.  

This morning the word ‘apricity’ wafted through. Oh, hello! But it isn’t THAT chilly!

Is there a mouse in the house? or something bigger? or maybe under the house, trying to scramble in? 

January 6, Malibu, 2024

Epiphany Day, otherwise known as Three Kings Day.

Yesterday morning a teenager in crisis. This was the beginniing:

The prediction of torrential rain exploded joyful ecstatic impishness in my core yester eve …but…I will WAIT until the heavens have really let it rip before venturing forth on my bluff, says I.

As baby teeth loosened, popped out and found their way under the pillow, a winsome, poetry laden tooth brownie found his way to our home every single time, and left wee treasures, ALWAYS with a note scratched out on a tiny slip of paper.

As many know, decades pour moi in the healing arts:

Sitting at a traffic light in my blue Taurus station wagon on East Bay Street, in Charleston, contemplating how on earth I was going to pull off participating in the ‘Proprioceptive Writing Course” at The Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, New York. I needed to do this.

May we learn to walk upon the earth

With the confidence and clear-eyed stillness of animals,

In the late 60’s, living in suburbia New York, my mother’s passion for ‘doing’ rose up with a no-turning-back vegeance and she announced that she needed to go back to India, to gather information on the famine so that she could write THE BOOK.

1970—Lexington, Massachusetts

Once upon a time ago, when I lived in NYC, my nest was half a block from Central Park and two blocks south of the Natural History Museum.

There is a turkey over yonder making a racket.

“I wandered lonely as a cloud…”

May you have friends who can see you, may your senses be windows of wonder and your mind a prism of spirit.

‘By the skin of my teeth’ floated through my so-called mind this morning as I pondered how on earth my existential reality is managing ever snce the writers’ strike obliterated my income.

For 22 days I have been on the receiving end of calls from Israel.

Late late, too late, I finally slipped into bed, opened the window and where was I? And when?

Time out this afternoon for a barefoot sea meander.

My stunningly brilliant, queen of communicating and passionate pianist mother was stroked at the age of 83.

Yesterday and last night the deluge…

A storm is coming and vibrations are dancing.

‘The color gold represents success, affluence and luxury, evoking a feeling of grandeur and sophistication.’

Feet in the ocean, after a few days of Maui despair and then a call from a young girl who lost her brother to opioid overdose.

Once upon a time ago in Sri Lanka, when the monsoon winds howled their way to our bungalow, my sister and I nodded to each other and headed for the beach at a breakneck speed.

There is a tribe of women in our midst that moves and grooves, inspires and solidifies future generations silently, with no recognition.

As the strike continues for this third month, we whose livlihood has depended on ‘the industry’ have been called to pull back burnered thises and thats to the forefront to handle our existential survival.

Somewhere in the recesses of my so-called mind, I can see and hear Clint Eastwood (r-e-a-l-l-y?)

Question:

How many memory triggers does one brain hold?

Oscar, my singing frog, has disappeared. I miss his rowdy presence but life does have a way of moving on in mysterious ways.

“I wonder as I wander out under the sky”…another gift from lifetimes ago when osmosis-ing hymns while sitting in pews was a Sunday happening.

This morning I was called to ‘be with’ three families that are hovering on homelessness as a result of the writers’ strike.

The re-location of a funky pet store and its bright blue-ness lured me yesterday.

Oberon. One day, while Obie and I were innocently standing on the sidewalk waiting for a red light to turn green, an animal psychic slid up next to us and said “Every dog has a soul mission. This dog’s mission is to bring gentleness to his male master.”

A few days ago, a heart stopping, soul vibing journey into the world that I grew up in, in South India, captured and carried me back into itself through Abraham Verghese’s book ‘Covenant of Water’….

Jose and Matilda, my guardian lizards, were sitting on my doorstep dreaming in their lizardy way, when wafting through the cosmos, 

Shifting winds, shifitng planet and the creatures that inhabit our bluff are dancing to the shifts!

Yesterday a stroll.

And what did I see?

This week has been one of my phone ringing non stop with people in crisis. Crisis? Disharmony with reality. Unacceptance of what is. Pain, frustration, outrage. Each one needing to vent and be heard.

In her late 80’s, my mother, having not only survived two massive strokes but also defied all odds by negating the prediction that she would never be  restored to being a recognizeable verison of herself in language or limb usage, would sit and say “I am of no use! I must be of use!” I listened and comforted her but now?

If you see me walking down the street…

There’s more to the Julius story…there’s an ‘after’ which is also a beginning. May I?

The parrots in my trees are raucous, chatty, screechy, non stop vibrationally wild, but this morning?

Julius had been born on the third floor of our funky green house by the sea in South Carolina and had been my best friend through the trials and tribulations of mothering my girls, following my dreams, facing dragons and meeting angels in every size and shape imagineable….he was my partner.

Fall, glorious fall!

Shhhhhh.

Avec my Saturday morning haferflocken (oatmeal, thank you, Norman!), I watch a children’s odyssey program and I inhale the most wondrous collection of intriguing tidbits.

Saint Exupery, a north star for me from wee-dom,  said: 

Pumpkin, pumpkin, what kind of word is pumpkin?

Rain! Rain! Rain!

Oh world, there you are, but wait a minute, Snake Medicine again?

As a girl in South India, my sister and I had the incredible good fortune to study with one of the prima bharatanatyam dancers in the country, as she was on maternity leave for two years.

Sitting, watching a giant hawk circle and glide in its magnificence while two baby hummingbirds innocently flit from blossom to branch to me.

I took a bath in the wind today

On June 4th, 1957, my mother, father, two older brothers, younger sister, nanny, and I, climbed the gangplank of the SS Mauretania in New York City, waving good-bye to my grandpa, who thought he would never see us again, as we were heading for exotic, mysterious India, on the other side of the earth.

The cold drink display in Whole Foods is in the very front of the store and impossible to ignore if one has one’s eyes open.

As my eight year old grandson, Huck, has a passion for snakes, and knowing that I had a weakness for all tortoise related creatures, I was coerced into watching a documentary on reptiles with him. 

Last week, a special friend of mine gifted me with an expedition to the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures.

This afternoon, as I stepped out of Trader Joe’s heading for my car, a robust, shining African American man came out at the same moment, flung his arms open wide and said ‘What a beautiful day!

Once upon a time ago I created and directed a children’s theater company in Charleston, South Carolina.

The runniness of my morning egg triggered a rumbling in my memory banks.

In between life…as in taking a break from brain, I watch people….and specifically zero in on one particular person at a time who catches my eye and I wonder what it would be like to be that person.

The Jewish mafia shook up my life….for one day.

This afternoon I stopped at Santa Monica Seafood to see what was what in the way of dinner. 

From John Masefield’s ‘Sea Fever’ (thank you, Mom, for imprinting my being with poetry and literature galore!). These words ran through me in broken intervals for those eight years of being a gypsy:

In Hinduism, Brahma, the creator, sits on a lotus.

In 1970 I was working the night shift at a state institution in New Hampshire.

The road that leads from my bluff to civilization, swerves by a view of a canyon that opens on to the sea. Every single time I drive past this canyon, I flash back to a memory from my girlhood in India.

The term ‘swami busters’ crossed my path a few days ago and amid sparkles of internal laughter, memories of adventure and friendship flew front and center.

Yesterday a child came out to wander, caught a dragonfly inside a jar….

Mom, is that you?

The heat. The planet. The animals. And us.

The summer of ’69 found me working on a brain tumor ward in a hospital in Colunmbia, Missouri.

Queen Elizabeth gave me a silver boat.

In the early 80’s, therapeutic massage was infiltrating communities all over the country that prior to this time had only associated massage with parlors.

A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

Whilst visiting a particular art exhibit on Saturday, a flood of feelings for the beauty of a time long ago and laughter.

Des Moines, Iowa, May 23, 1918

It hardly seems fair that on top of the multitude of morphing body parts and systems, that as we age, our looks slide into peculiar variations on a theme.

The smell of eucalyptus trees, especially in the rain, and often mixed with burning, seeped into every cell, every day, when living in our mountain school in South India.

In 1960 my family found itself in Jerusalem, as my father was known for his negotiating skills and had been called to help with ‘something.’ 

In 1977 I lived in a cottage on the shores of a wild lake in Minnesota with my husband, our baby daughter, our husky and our collie.

The heat is coming.

The ants are on the move.

My cellular calendar tells me HARK! Family birthdays….of a grandfather that I never knew and a sister that I adored, both lighting candles and toasting in other realms.

Inhabit the garden.  Shall we follow?

Quick, said the bird, find them, find them.

There’s no place like home.

In 1991, after driving a U-Haul truck from Charleston, South Carolina to New York City with 14-yeqr-old daughter, and young golden retriever riding shotgun, we found our new mini nest, which was dark and dusty but going to work.  While daughter hooted and howled in upset, golden retriever and I took a walk around the block.

Yesterday afternoon, scurrying around the corner of Wilshire and 4th Street in Santa Monica, through a demonstration for Iranian women’s rights, I time travelled and bumped into a woman from a Dickens novel.

The summer of 1968. On the most idyllic two hundred acre farm in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, whose main house had been an inn during the Revolutionary War, I worked as a nanny to four children, four horses, and a wacky pregnant Gordon Setter named Sita.

Every single morning, at the exact same time, a little bird perches on the exact same spot on the tippy top of a bush outside my window, facing the ocean, and she seems to meditate

A word that reverberates as never before, and seems to be growing in its familiarity and power, is Grief.

Having spent the last hour efficiently, delightfully, rearranging a few thises and thats in my abode, it was time to hop into the shower

Somewhere in my meandering,  I heard the words, “I’ve known him since he was an egg” and my imagination was off and running.

Here I am, living on the coast of la mer magnifique (Mom, are you closing your eyes tightly and shaking your head?) and yet its every sunset reminds me of evenings perched on the rolling dunes of Lake Michigan.

Ten years ago, or so, Francie’s Magic Cookies were happening. They were in eleven Whole Foods, they were flying off the shelves and creating magic…yes, for real.

Once upon a time ago, as in the 50’s and 60’s, when Christmas trees were painstakingly decked with shiny balls, and homemade styrofoam or felt ornaments with sequins stuck hither and thither, TINSEL was the main event.

The transportive might of music, once again awestruck.

During the 60’s, my mother’s passion for experiencing New York’s cultural offerings exploded  during Christmastime and always began with an expedition into the city for Menotti’s ‘Amahl and the Night Visitors’. This morning, with the first voice of “Amaaaaaaahl” on my player, the red breasted bird that lives in yonder tree, that I have named ‘Jane’ for my mother, few over to my window and  listened with me.

Tenafly….”ten swamps”in Dutch…. ‘yes’, I thought. 

In the early 60’s when my mother informed me that this was the meaning of the word. ‘How perfect that we had landed here, strangers in a strange land that does not want me…swamp times ten, ’ I thought.

1962, October, the Cuban Missile Crisis was happening, the SS France was only six months old, “The Music Man” with Robert Preston was playing everywhere, and they all came together for our family in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in a magnificent storm with thirty foot waves.

Walter, Walter shining bright!

Your birthday! 

I can only imagine that you have found the perfect cloud to rally your friends around for rampant FUN.

What a blessing it is when someone prances into one’s life bringing laughter and vibrant electricity!

P-22

“What’s in a name? That whcih we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.”

Sakiko, how can I thank you? You were not soft and fuzzy and your disapproval of me was visceral. You joined the family when I was 15, and as you had achieved phenomenal status in the world of opera through intense discipline and ‘no nonsense’, you had little patience for my sensitivity and non traditional inclinations. 

My music of the morning appeared out of nowhere and played itself. It clearly wanted to be heard and as yesterday’s partial eclipse illuminated some buried boxes, perfecto.

Oh WOE!!!! You did it again!

What did I do?

You dropped the baby in the wrorng family. You need to pay attention!

Somewhere in my travels these words ….’Everything that happens to you has the potential to deepen you’….and so last night I happened to watch “Elephant Whisperers” on Netflix and was transported, viscerally and sensually back in time to a place where adventure, family hooplah, wonder, beauty, wisps of fear,  passion for wildness and tangible LOVE for elephants crept into my young self.

Vermont and fall seem to be joined together…trees bursting into flaming hues in the news and advertisements…come, come….hence another rebellious episode with my rascal comrade in all things not allowed.

The recent word in Malibu and Topanga is that mountain lions are roaming about much more frequently than in days past and being spotted in driveways and yards. The creatures of the world are on the move as their habitat morphs with changing times.

My darling Oberon. There you are.

I was recently reminded of Maya Angelou’s words: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget whatyou did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Time passed and names were called, two for Paris, one for Madrid, one for Bangkok, and then mine for London. I was driven out to the plane’s stair ramp while being given my instructions. I was told that I would be checking twenty-six suitcases through customs, that there would be no problem, but that I needed to count them and make sure that all twenty-six made it through. Then I was handed three large envelopes and told to not let these out of my hands for any reason, not for a moment, and that this is why I was traveling in first class. These envelopes were accompanied by most interesting instructions.

Once upon a time ago, in the 80’s and 90’s, I was a massage therapist. I worked out of my home, always, and in this way I provided an income for myself and my daughters while being available as a mother. The gifts of this work are widespread and deep, and one surprise gift was the music.

Something suspect has been going in the squirrel world.