auntykana

[auntykana]

[auntykana]

Papa’s got some new wheels. #hondaelement

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best stay off the lawn sign

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fifth blooming of summer

[auntykana]

I love finding hearts in everyday places. A labradorite heart missing its jeweler, a bush I was watering, raspberries at the Bellingham farmer's market, a leaf on the ground after rain, a nut on a farm in Canby, a rose in our yard. Every day, hearts everywhere.

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calm before the yahoos and their boats and jet skis ruin the peace

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Unfurling.

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Rose is a rose. Fun with camera

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To croquet or not to croquet.... summer lovin'

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Last day of 49.

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First roses of summer ... 200 bushes to bloom.

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The Higher Road of Hit and Runs

This afternoon, we'd stopped to get a drink at Mickey D's.  Driver pulled the truck over since there was no way to put truck and trailer into any of the parking spaces, and me, a bit mobility challenged needed to pop out and into the store. I was out of the truck in seconds, closing the door, with this shiny red Kia Soul (not the new model, but the kind with triangle lights that look like they are part of the roofline), backs out right into me.

I am not hurt, just shocked that had he not hit me, he would've hit the side of the truck since he wasn't looking. I tapped on his car and said "whoa, whoa, whoa" (as if horsepower was working) and the guy, an old, tanned hippie looking guy with crazy eyes, continued to back up.  He yelled at me saying it was "not a loading zone, assho**"" and sped off, not caring if I was hurt or not.  I wasn't. Just shocked that this guy, in effect, just did a hit and run.  One of my passengers was indignant that I call the cops.  I got a pretty good look at him, and the kind of car, no plates. But then, I thought, I really wasn't hurt and it's more trouble than it's worth to report it.  "Hello, police, an old guy in a red suv back into me and sped off after he called me a name. I wasn't hurt.  What are we gonna do?" 

I learned a long time ago, there are battles to win and others to lose.  I wasn't hurt, he didn't really damage me or my property, though he was an idiot and not watching where he was going, but still.  No big deal.

It's not the first time I have been bumped in a parking lot by driver not watching where they are going.  Costco is famous for it, especially after people load up their cars, get in, get on their phones.  I was able to suggest to someone to watch where they were going when they not only hit me, but pulled into a space, proceeding to hit the car I was pushing, get out of the car and tell me to watch where I was going. 

My head just says, higher road, higher road.  A crowd had gathered and a store employee told the lady to back off and that he was calling the cops because she ran the stop sign and hit me and kept going.  I said no, not hurt, just shaken, but here, let me take a picture of your face and your car and license plate, in case something develops.  She sobered quickly. "I'm so sorry. I'm so stressed. Oh my god, Oh my god."  I nodded the store employee off, and the lady and I bent down to pick up my things and the cart, and together we just chatted for a bit, me an ear to bend, she checking to make sure I was alright.

The guy, a jerk. The lady, a lesson learned.  If I take the higher road when I am not really damage, then karma, well, car-ma will rue the day.

[auntykana]

Sometimes I wonder if I was born in a different time.  I really, really love cars from before the 1970s.  I just like something that is built to last, something with an innate style, that smells of old leather, that makes noise when you drive, that the wind whipping in your hair doesn't come off a truck.  I was looking through car catalogs, trying to find something newer, doing research, and just not liking what is out there unless it costs the same as a small country or house.  You know? That $100K car looks amazing, but how practical, how stylish?

The question is? How do you find a car like this, how do you get involved in restoring its beauty? 

[auntykana]

Mr. Klinefelter, I Know You So Well

Gender came up in conversation today and I wasn't perplexed, but I thought immediately how I have fought against my body my entire life.  I'm not saying I am a girl trapped in a man's body, though my drag years were quite realistic, particularly because people sensed an overwhelming feminine coming from me.  I could pull off being a girl, knowing that I was a man, soft skin, limited facial hair, very round curves, chesty kind of thing.  And my voice, soft and with lilt.  Add to that behaviors and dramatic entrances, no wonder people wondered.

In Hawaii, I saw an endocrinologist and in a blood test, it was discovered I was XXY, which is a syndrome that affects a small part of the male population, which can only be truly diagnosed in adult males, so doctors had no way of treating or even really knowing about it.  Many people go undiagnosed.  

After the diagnosis and subsequent treatments, it explained a lot to me.  Certain symptoms.  The femininity, the soft body, the soft voice, the lack of assertion, the wondering if I was gay.  Then, on the other side, men wondering if I was trans, and formerly a woman, and uncomfortable around me.  Where do you find love when your body is inconsistent from simple, base, anatomical understanding?

How do you live, who takes you seriously?

The hardest part is that I can't have kids.  Ironically, it wasn't until I lived in Hawaii and I got to work as a teacher in after-school programs with kindergarten and first graders, did I realize that I was missing out on something. It was heart-breaking.

These days, I still struggle with body issues because my body can't seem to make up its mind.  Do I eat things with soy a face an increase in estrogen in my body?  Do I add more testosterone so that I become an angry guy with enormous energy and strength? Do I stress eat?  Do I not eat?  Do I imagine myself, some day, of being on a poster in Men's Health, showing you how to curl at the tummy? I wonder if the past four surgeries to correct the hole in my gastric bypass are simply signs of my body taking care of itself against an invasive foe? 

My mind is incredibly healthy. My heart and spirit sound. I work hard. I play hard. I live my life. I am consistent in my interactions. I am a loyal friend, a supportive colleague, a knowing sibling, and devoted son.  My body is gonna do what it's gonna do. If I died tomorrow, my life was well lived.  And you, know, that's all you have.

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Photo by Paige.   So, lush and adorable. Friggin cutiepie. She's got the photo eye, now let's get the girl create a blog.  Tumblr?