Coming to My Senses

Audio: Tom Petty on a tape loop at the California Kids’ triathlon in Davis (American Girl keeps playing in my head), big cheers for the last girl out of the pool in Zed’s heat, Django saying “Nana” as he reaches for me

Visual: Zed’s burst of power, pumping arms and legs across the finish line

Olfactory: a bursting jasmine bush in Jan and John’s lush garden

Kinesthesia: Zed’s chewed bubblegum sweating in my hand as I look for a trashcan

Flavors: water, cold water, more water on a 100 degree day

The unexpected: the calm confidence of my son, even when his bike location eluded him in the transition area

Audio: Popcorn, not the kernel that explodes, but the poppy synthesizer  song from the 70’s, which Zed requested repeatedly on the car iPod today

Visual: Annette’s pickin’ fingers flyin’ on her banjo

Olfactory: Gracie’s wet fur (”Mom, she smells like a . . . a  . . . dog!)

Kinesthesia: The steely resistance of guitar strings against neglected callouses

Flavors: Pizza with an “extra-done” crust

The unexpected: Zed cleaning his room without a parent prompt!

Audio: Shovel pushes through composted earth, gentle wind, and wispy voices among the trees.

Visual: Black soil sifted thru long fingers, earth mounded into hills, “eyes” popping thru dusty brown skin looking for sunlight.

Olfactory: The vivid smell of soil, flowering fruit trees nearby.

Kinesthesia: Hands hold tight - potatoes sliced into threes, aged muscles reach as “eyes” disappear beneath the soil.

Flavors: the moist air on tip of tongue, visualizing steaming mashed and crisp fried potatoes.

The unexpected: Standing erect and stretching free, viewing first planting, birds impatiently singing for worms.

Senses courtesy of my father, Gailen Keeling

Audio: “The ice we skate is getting pretty thin
The waters getting warm so you might as well swim
My world’s on fire how about yours
That’s the way I like it and I never get bored.”

(My son singing the lyrics to Smash Mouth’s All Star, of which he knows every word.)

Visual: Two newts in the stream, orange underbellies exposed, coiled around each other while one grasps a stick for dear life

Olfactory: Gracie’s morning breath

Kinesthesia: The almost-not-there fluff of whip cream balanced on my finger

Flavors: incomparable taste of cold water on an 80 degree day

The Unexpected: Zed’s hand on my leg while he watched the puppet show, like he used to do when he was two

Audio: “I use food to fill all my voids.”

Visual: the six of us mugging for the camera

Olfactory: Roses? No, cherry blossoms.

Kinesthesia: holding on to the good-bye hugs as if they were words in a book

Flavors: Lexi’s quiche, no, wait, Lexi’s best-in-the-world-ever quiche, a culinary phenomenon of flavors

The Unexpected: driving back to Portland, fog drizzle gray, wondering if I will have the absolute good fortune to know these women for the rest of my life.– P. L. I. N. A.– Thanks for just, you know . . .

Audio: voice in the night, “Mama, just making sure you’re here.”

Visual: 48″, finally tall enough for the Aquatic Center’s slide, orange dinosaur shorts, red tube, gray foam spray, pocked white ceiling, aquamarine blue splash, blond head bobbing to the surface

Olfactory: the park growing from the night’s rain, smells yellow, like daffodils

Kinesthesia: rope swing friction burn, cold breath-away submersion

Flavors: satisfying okra, Great Harvest bread oozing gluten, white birthday cake with just the right amount of chocolate frosting to come out even, tasting the air of a house filled with so much love

The Unexpected: Rat-a-tat-Cat can be enjoyed by those 7 - 78

Audio: Unnaturally high-pitched squeak: “Hi Zed, this is the Easter Bunny.”

Zed: “Oh, hi. So, hey, it’s supposed to rain. Do you think you could hide the eggs today instead of on Easter?”

The Squeak: “Sure, sure. I’ll just make an extra stop at your grandparents’ house there in Salem. Until then, you be good. And I’ll hook up my flying carrot and be there real soon.”

Zed: “Okay, thanks.” Phone click. Dial tone. Whispering, “Mom, that was Daddy right?”

Visual: flourescent pink, neon green, buttercup yellow, wax crayon stripes and dots, stickers, wrap-arounds, feast of color

Olfactory: sour, clean-bathroom, vinegar smell

Kinesthesia: you have it, I have it, you have it, splat, shattered shell, crumbling home of never-to-be chick, hard albumen, smooth sheen under fingers

Flavors: egg-white, egg yellow, starch sits in back of throat until washed down with Brach’s syrupy caramel

The Unexpected: sadness at the possibility that Easter Egg hunts are a thing of the past (expected), pride and a sense that life is moving forward as it should (unexpected)

Tick bite on outside R thigh

Audio: nails scratching skin

Visual: Bull’s eye:  center dot, raised and angry; sickly yellow rim of damaged flesh; outer, spreading circle, a roseola red fried egg filled with purple dots and cantankerous bumps (worth the least amount of points)

Olfactory: freshly opened bottle of antibiotics, festering fungi and protozoa, steaming their malodor through the plastic capsules

Kinesthesia: a kidney war, battle outrageous, bacteria fighting for dominance

Flavors: metallic and old

The Unexpected: Rarity in many forms - rare to get bit, rare for the tick to carry the disease, rare to get infected, and rare to find it. Not rare to feel grateful for treatment and health.

A chance to record and observe and share small details that make up a day, a month, a life.