I opened my eyes this morning and gazed over at little Ane. She was still asleep and even more lovable because she was sleeping. That might not be the most kind thing a parent can say but when your four year old has taken to screaming, harassing, and repeating things over and over in a monotonous chant until you cave, explode or run away.....well, it was a nice change and she looked quite sweet.

So, the morning is starting out well. No screams.

Sunshine. Another good omen.

Ane wakes up and smiles at me. Crux hears us and comes to snuggle under the covers. All cozy and happy.

Then I clear my throat and feel a nasty loogie . A really nasty one that has to come up. I hack like a cat with a hairball. I throw the covers off and attempt to sit up but I haven't realized that I am sleeping on the very edge of the bed. As I turn over I fall out of the bed on to my knees and one of my arms reaches out to break my fall but, instead, smashes right through one of our bedroom windows .

Fortunately, the window was covered by a curtain and I sustained no injuries.

This was a fun story to tell Chris on the morning of his birthday. I have a penchant for breaking windows. I accidentally broke the window of my wee little Nissan/Datsun Sentra the morning Chris and I fell in love. I also broke one while he and I were playing with a Nerf ball.  Now I've broken one falling out of bed while hocking up a loogie. It is one of my endearing qualities.

Not having to do with glass but related: In fourth grade we were bunny hop relay racing up to the brick wall and back and I somehow bunny hopped head first in to the wall and broke my wrist and sustained a concussion. Just last month I sprained my neck and had a concussion while taking out the garbage at work. This is just something I live with.

Maybe I'll tell you some time about the time I inadvertantly slashed a wrist on a rock in the middle of the James River and how my dog and my best friend swam me to the shore. Or the time I woke up from fainting with one arm tied to a doorknob and my best friend (again) smacking me  in the face as I aspirated vomit. Classic Kimmy.

Farewell April, at long last. 

 *Photo by Kimmy Certa. April Sapling Shadow and Moss*

Yesterday marked the seventh year Chris and I have been married. I worked because I always forget our anniversaryand didn't request off. Fortunately, Chris isn't a romantic and never remembers either. It wasn't until this year that I realized that it coincides with the Autumnal Equinox, which is one of my favorite sabbats. So, I prepared a lovely and intimate feast for our wee family. We intended to have a fire but the mosquitos and rather warm weather made that tradition seem unappealing. Instead, Chris and I shared a bottle of Shiraz and watched football.

Chris and I married in 2000. Our boychild was a year old. We had a baby, were buying a house and figured we'd make it official. So we called a justice of the peace and committed ourselves to one another in the privacy of our Richmond duplex on Floyd Avenue. I remember that the JP looked like Santa and that Cruxien spent the entire 7 minute ceremony opening and closing a door :)

I think we called our family after the fact. I don't really like going to weddings or being in them. I've never fantasized about dresses, flowers, diamonds, caterers, veils, tiny quiches, or any of the trappings of a wedding. I like rituals though and I think that when we celebrate our 10 years we should have a ceremony and a party. Of course, there will be fire and all matter of pagan references ! That's just me. It will most certainly be DIY.

Here's some great news. Chris and I are more in love and more attracted to one another now than we were when we married. We've made it through some very dark and difficult times and some amazing ones. Our relationship is deepening and we are growing together. One thing I've had to learn to do is be more trustful in our love and turn toward Chris during challenging times. Too often, I'm prone to become distant. I credit Chris for helping learn thses things about myself. He is patient, loyal and steadfast and I need a stable element in my life.

So in honor of our seven years of weddedness, a love poem. John Donne's The Ecstasy.

WHERE, like a pillow on a bed,
    A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest
The violet's reclining head,
    Sat we two, one another's best.

Our hands were firmly cemented
    By a fast balm, which thence did spring ;                                                 
Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread
    Our eyes upon one double string.

So to engraft our hands, as yet
    Was all the means to make us one ;
And pictures in our eyes to get
    Was all our propagation.

As, 'twixt two equal armies, Fate
    Suspends uncertain victory,
Our souls—which to advance their state,
    Were gone out—hung 'twixt her and me.

And whilst our souls negotiate there,
    We like sepulchral statues lay ;
All day, the same our postures were,
    And we said nothing, all the day.

If any, so by love refined,
    That he soul's language understood,
And by good love were grown all mind,
    Within convenient distance stood,

He—though he knew not which soul spake,
    Because both meant, both spake the same—
Might thence a new concoction take,
    And part far purer than he came.

This ecstasy doth unperplex
    (We said) and tell us what we love ;
We see by this, it was not sex ;
    We see, we saw not, what did move :

But as all several souls contain
    Mixture of things they know not what,
Love these mix'd souls doth mix again,
    And makes both one, each this, and that.

A single violet transplant,
    The strength, the colour, and the size—
All which before was poor and scant—
    Redoubles still, and multiplies.

When love with one another so
    Interanimates two souls,
That abler soul, which thence doth flow,
    Defects of loneliness controls.

We then, who are this new soul, know,
    Of what we are composed, and made,
For th' atomies of which we grow
    Are souls, whom no change can invade.

But, O alas ! so long, so far,
    Our bodies why do we forbear?
They are ours, though not we ; we are
    Th' intelligences, they the spheres.

We owe them thanks, because they thus
    Did us, to us, at first convey,
Yielded their senses' force to us,
    Nor are dross to us, but allay.

On man heaven's influence works not so,
    But that it first imprints the air ;
For soul into the soul may flow,
    Though it to body first repair.

As our blood labours to beget
    Spirits, as like souls as it can ;
Because such fingers need to knit
    That subtle knot, which makes us man ;

So must pure lovers' souls descend
    To affections, and to faculties,
Which sense may reach and apprehend,
    Else a great prince in prison lies.

To our bodies turn we then, that so
    Weak men on love reveal'd may look ;
Love's mysteries in souls do grow,
    But yet the body is his book.

And if some lover, such as we,
    Have heard this dialogue of one,
Let him still mark us, he shall see
    Small change when we're to bodies gone.

Donne, John. Poems of John Donne. vol I.

E. K. Chambers, ed.

London: Lawrence & Bullen, 1896. 53-56.

This is what I hide.

I've loathed this part of my body for as long as I can remember.

The only exception is when my babies grew in there....

My stomach, my belly. It is scarred and marked with pearlescent lines.

It is a map of the greatest sickness of my life and the greatest joys. 

In case you're wondering why I always plop self portraits up here, check out Self Portrait Challenge. It is a continuous artistic self-expressive art project community. This month's challenge was "body parts" and here is the challenge that was put forth.

" ...for April I think we need a challenge…a tighter parameter and to connect with ourselves, our physical selves. I think this might be challenge for many and for others it might be easy. Whatever the case I want everyone to challenge themselves - push their boundaries and limits. photograph your good bits, bad bits, wobbly bits and sexy bits. photograph it all and show us your body. - I don’t expect to see any traditional portraits, no pretty faces or full body shots, rather bits and extracts of your self.

It is a dark day here in Virginia. My Self Portrait Challenge photo reflects that and also gave me an opportunity to see a part of my body that I don't often glimpse....I expect everyone else sees it all the time and I found myself thinking, "Huh, so that's what my hair looks like from behind."

Have you  heard the very inspiring and brave words spoken by Nikki Giovanni today at Virginia Tech? I heard them on WRIR today...perhaps an NPR broadcast. On dark days like these those who shine seem so much brighter...

This is the second photo for April's SPC. The theme is: the body. This one is for the squeamish. My kids love it when I do this....do you? Gotta run.........