fruit of the femme

What does fruit of the loom have in common with fruit of the femme?

No strawberries.

Khubz, it seems, is allergic to strawberries. We'd often notice a stain on her cheek when she would eat strawberries. Must have gotten some juice on her face, we'd dismiss. No, actually, it is an allergic reaction. And it has gotten worse.

We had strawberries for snack over at a friends house and her cheeks became blotchy and purple and hot.

No strawberries.

Poor girl!

The best of public radio

Have you read this?

"The "fruit" is actually an inverted flower with a collection of unopened blooms lining the inner wall of the delicate sack. Some fig varieties are self-pollinating" (wink, wink)

I think this is my new best answer, btw, for assholes who question where Khubz "came from." I will just start telling people that I am self-pollinating.

But really, back to this article

"A tender, ripe fig is heavy with its own syrupy liqueur, which tends to drizzle out of its base if you wait too long to eat it."

Really, I am cancelling my subscription to On Our Backs and sending that money to NPR.

This is waaaay better. . .

Yet here's a spot

How to quell anxiety at this late hour?


I have already gone to the grocery store to get supplies for the influx of the tribe this weekend. Accomplishing that task only makes me keenly aware of how much else is on my to-do list. None of this is the root of my anxiety, in truth. But this is not the time, nor the place.

I am just going to go upstairs, put on an episode of Foyle's War and cut out "Dig, Ivan, Dig!" pictures until I am overcome by sleep.

(deep breath) Sphere of influence. . . Sphere of control. . . Sphere of influence. . .

Hold it together, man!

Ramadhan Mubarak

Fig
Originally uploaded by George Kaplan

I can't fast this year but I have to do something. I thought I'd start the month out by giving this tender present to the basket.

Ramadhan is all about wanting & waiting, holding out with a community until the moment you all take a bite. It is a slow down in the year because time always moves slower when you're waiting for the sun to go down. And it is also the excitement of seeing people, people you always want to see but don't get a chance to, at the most delicious and anticipated time each day.

The preparations are elaborate because if you can't eat, you at least want to be planning food, washing fruit, slicing cheese, watching bread rise in the bowl. All these preparations promise that the sun will go down. When it does you can slice up the fig, give one half to your lover or sister or friend and collectively enjoy the most perfect satisfaction of breaking your fast.

Additionally

I know it is not at all obvious in my previous spinning post but I am really very happy about having twins. I already wonder who these little people will be when they come into the world. Who will we meet? How will the world change? I think Scully & Khubz & I are all up for it. And my mom is shrieking with joy. Shrieking. Joyfully.



I am feeling better about Khubz, too.



I think in the previous post I was really adjusting to the idea, unsure about all the things that would change and unable to picture anything at all. I have some more ideas now and have been reassured that Khubz & I will not be lost to one another. We'll be tired for a while. That's okay. Sometimes the mommies just are tired.



So now we're browsing the double strollers and looking for one that has a "rumble seat" where Khubz could ride as well. Also, she'll be two and a half. It will be the middle of winter. By the time spring comes around we will have had some practice. And we are totally practicing the "hold mommie's hand" when we walk. She is a very good girl.



I am missing her. And Scully. And I also love being pregnant. I love the idea that what will grow into my children are already with me. That as I was eating my yummy spinach salad there were these two embryos very excited about the iron and "leafy green"-ness of it all. And I talk to them.

I should also tell you that we have nicknames. So Khubz was "zygy" when she was in utero. Zygote turned into zygy and that stuck even after she was waay past zygote and even once she was a fetus. We dropped it as soon as she was in the world. She was immediately "Khubz" for us.

So we were looking again at all the points of development and I said "blastocyst. cool." And Scully dubbed my pregnancy "blasty." And now it's Blasty squared. And you know what that makes me? That's right! I'm Masterblaster! who knew that Mad Max would be such a longlasting theme in my parenting?

I will say that the beds are very nice here. I am sleeping well and I am really excited that I get to go to bed as soon as the meeting is over each day! 6 o'clock bedtime, here I come!

Additionally, check out the beautiful fruit we had on the breakfast buffet this morning. The pic doesn't do it justice, but it's not bad for a camera phone.

a bit quiet

Sometimes I cover my hair because I just need a little privacy. Today is one of those days, even though I didn't bring my tarha/hijab.

Things are fine. Just feeling a bit quiet.

So I don't know that I'll be blogging much either. But here's a pic sent by my special lady friend.

in love

Tomatoes
Originally uploaded by Pieter Pieterse

Scully out of no where starts talking about this dream she had where she was surrounded by tomato plants. There were red ripe tomatoes everywhere. And then she breaks out of her dream story to look me right in the face and says, "I mean, think about it. The symbolism of a *tomato*." There was a pause so we could both drink in the vast symbolism.

I can't believe I am married to a woman who says things to me like, 'think about the symbolism of a tomato.'

"I love you. I fucking, fucking love you." was the only reply I could manage.

Happy Birthday Basket!

Yeehaw! My Blog turns one today!

Has it been a year? And I've kept up with it? Yea me!

Because it is my blog's birthday and it is also "women should brag about themselves more" day here is a hit list of posts I read whenever I am reassuring myself that I should keep writing. Feel free to browse. Would you like to revisit the. . .

• Simple delights of the horned melon?
• The first time Scully blushed & asked me not to share quite so much?
• The time before Khubz decided that bananas were the source of all goodness in the world?
• My realization that I want Khubz to eat like an arab?
• pomelo to end all pomelos?
• moment I came out not only as a queer with a fruit fetish but as a brazen liar as well?
• folliculitis. say it with me folliculitis.
• all my ethnic guilt laid out for all to see at the spanish story hour?
• leche lost & found?

I love blogging & am thrilled by the things I've read, written, heard & learned in the last year. Thanks for reading!

So happy birthday, Fruit Basket!

here's a present to my blog:

Fishnets & Fruitjackets

Fruitnets
Originally uploaded by digicla

you can tell when
the fishnets are
all for show

no intent behind
the loops and strands
hanging loose

untied

but then there are
times

such bindings are
not dramatic

& you are sure
as she is

& you wonder,
how exactly would i
unhook all that lace

or maybe just
go through it

bite

right into

the zest

gaza today

Olive tree close
Originally uploaded by Laura Bell

olive branches
are not easy whisps of peace
not simple, willowy, bending branches

this tree is hard

tired for being attacked
because she lives & is fruitful

tired that the metaphor of
her own limbs
is used against her

I'm Ready

I am never tired of winter.

But this year I am tired of winter.

This year I am longing for spring.

While I was out

I am still with the living, hamdillah. There are many people to thank.


My nurse friend is the one who sent me to the dr. in the first place. I would have just blown it off as the flu except that she sent me for anti-flu medicine. And she also sustained me with a constant barrage of hillarious and sympathetic text messages.

Dawn saved my life by picking my daughter up from daycare so I didn't have to leave my house. She did this even though it meant having to put in our carseat which also meant having to move her carseat to drive my daughter 2 blocks while her daughter protested the relocation only to drop off my daughter and then take our carseat out of her car and eventually have to move her own carseat back! I'm tired just writing it. Even though she says it didn't take very long, it meant a lot and it was awesome of her and her temporarily displaced daughter. Thanks, Dawn. I love you every day. I especially loved you Tuesday.

My friend at work didn't blink when I told her I had pneumonia and wouldn't be able to go help with an all day training. So yeah, even though you thought you were going to that training so you could observe & learn. . .yeah. . . maybe you wouldn't mind, you know, doing the training? She didn't blink. "My GOD." She said. "Pneumonia! Get some sleep!" And I did. And it was awesome.

My tireless partner came home and found that my parenting strategy Monday night was something like this: put bowl of cheerios & a cup of water on the floor, kiss my baby girl, tell her that the goddess will watch out for her and pass out on the couch. I don't really remember her coming home or getting the girl to bed. I remember waking up the next day to find that the entire mess had been cleaned up and she and Dawn had taken care of everything for the next day so I could just keep sleeping. It was awesome.

There are more people to thank, I don't mean to neglect you. But I am still tired and am about to turn into a pumpkin. So let me thank the kind blogosphere with the most joyous thing I can offer: some pics of my girlchild. (that may be the cheeziest thing yet said on this here blog. no apologies, though, cuz i mean it.)

Khubz in her most Muslim moment Yet!

Does Santa come to quasi-Muslimy households

where toddlers irreverantly immitate prayer while playing in box lids?

Khubz can't bear to look.

And finally, yes, that is my daughter

playing with an orange. All day long. And eating it.

Whole. My daughter. Yes.

Goodbye 2007!

Most things deserve another look.

A different perspective.

An alternate view.

It shows us where the pits are, how thick the skin is and some places of unexpected beauty.

If you're looking for a good roundup of political events in 2007, I recommend this from democracy now. It's nice to hear about the year that did not show up in the local paper, the 'yahoo news' page, on npr (i do love them so, even though 2 shews calls me a nerd for downloading it to my ipod),or even on the daily show.

So if you're interested in taking a second look at the year consider this view that is not brought to you by ADM, Pfizer, Nabisco or Exxon.

Queer fruit for a fruit queer

Everyone should hop over to Sarcastic Mom and thank Lotus for dropping me a very sweet email with a link to this site. Then raise your fist in the air and shout "SUBVERT THE DOMINANT PARADIGM! FOR FRUIT!"

drawing down the moon

Watching the moon
above me

waiting for blood
below me

will my body
again master
the secret of
a blood orange?


not just blood

but seeds

fruit

growth

i have an appointment at the fertility clinic for a consultation. we are getting ready to go again, inshallah. if anyone has a menstruation calendar widget send it my way, won't you?

How good is it to be home?

This good.

See that apple?

See that stem

snug & solid

surrounded by

that apple?

All as it should be.

That's it

Forget it. Instead, enjoy this picture.

i love october

i love

october.

i really

really love it.

you're pretty

clever.

i think you can

probably

figure out

why.

It is October

The thing about pears is that they were never meant to live in isolation. They require community. Even when said in the singular their name implies company. Try to say "pear" without saying "pair." Can't be done. And pears grow to rely on a sister or lover or friend. Their bodies ripen with an expectation there is someone to lean against, to spoon, to hold onto, someone with whom to share October.

I have often said

that I love Scully

all the time.

But I love her

even more

in October.

I'm not the only one

Just look at this. Look.

There was this lesbian comedian (i can't remember her name) that i heard at a womyn's fest (a decade ago when I went to womynsfests) and she was bemoaning the lack of imagination she encountered when coming out to straight friends. "But what do two women do with each other?"

She finally started answering like this:

"Go find yourself a persimmon. A ripe & tender persimmon. Ease it open. Run your tongue along the rim of the fruit. That is what two women do with each other. "

I'm not the only one who thinks this way, you know.

Really. Go get yourself a persimmon. Try it.