Kittens, I was procrastinating again. I was pushing the anniversary of the Pocket Call to September 6th when it’s actually the evening of September 5th. I thought I had one more day. Thankfully the fine folks at Angele in Napa provided the cocktail recipe for our soiree just in the nick of time.
Here it is, spa water with booze in it:
CLEAR CONSCIENCE RECIPE
8 slices cucumber
½ orange cut into 6 slices
1 oz fresh squeezed lime juice
1 oz ginger simple syrup (recipe follows)
4 oz vodka
Ginger Ale
Muddle cucumber and orange in cocktail shaker until broken up. Add ginger syrup, lime juice, and vodka. Add ice and shake vigorously. Strain into tall Collins glass over ice and top with ginger ale. Garnish with a cucumber wheel.
Make 2 drinks
Ginger Simple Syrup:
1 cup sugar
1 cup water
½ cup peeled and sliced ginger
Bring sugar and water to a boil. Add ginger and steep for 1 hour and up to 3 days. Strain. Makes several cocktails 😉 Must get ginger…must get ginger…
Seriously, could this cocktail be any more appropriate? Due to my date error, I will be making one each night just in case some of you don’t check in till Thursday. I will post both nights, guaranteed.
Now, I have much to share about the past few days.
The Blue Moon lit up the night like a global carnival. I expected it to come rolling down my hill it was so close, so touchable. Its light hot and blinding white, like the flash on a camera in a pitch black room. As the light fell to earth it softened, leaving everything below it glowing. I could have counted the ingrown hairs on my self-shaved bikini line by its luminescence.
Remind me to never take that short cut again.
The Blue Moon shared much with me that evening. For now, I will just say that it’s a lot to live up to, and I’m intimidated by the tasks. Excited, but intimidated. Which is exactly how I felt when I was one-third the way through an open water swim from the Venice Pier to the Marina in Los Angeles.
I was in Los Angeles to celebrate the 90th birthday of my Aunt Awesome. The Firecracker dark chocolate icing on that cake was spending time with my Mom. The 1983 Offley Porto Boa Vista Vintage port wine was spending time with my cousins. There were highlights galore, but one encounter really stood out. The one that scared me half to death.
It all started when my cousin invited me on a swim in the Pacific. A two-miler he does regularly. The day before, I swam about a half mile in a pool in Santa Monica. It felt pretty good. So, why not just say yes to a two mile swim in the ocean? It’s only the longest distance I’ve swam to date and the first time out in the wild Pacific. Why not?
The San Francisco bay has its quirks and assorted marine life, it’s just that the Pacific’s are bigger. Lots bigger.
My cousin shirked off the shark question. There hasn’t been an attack in forever, he’s never seen one, and when it’s your time it’s your time. Agreed, but I can insure my time doesn’t involve the world’s most frightening mouth clamped around my core, shaking me around like a pom-pom celebrating a touchdown.
I said yes anyway.
And then proceeded to wake repeatedly throughout the night (including once after an earthquake) with thoughts of Great Whites thrashing through my head. If it doesn’t feel right I’ll just wait for him on the beach, I thought. Which was quickly followed by, You are so doing this.
The surf leading up to our swim had created excitement up and down the coast. I swam in the pool on the day I arrived because the ocean was simply too fierce. But when we arrived at the Venice Pier at 8:30 Labor Day morning, it had calmed down. As we walked toward the water, my cousin casually dropped that he had forgotten to tell me about the sting rays.
You have got to be kidding me.
You just shuffle your feet along the bottom. They’ll feel your vibrations and move away. You sure don’t want to get stung by one.
We paused at the water’s edge and he demonstrated the sting ray shuffle. Then he scanned the waves for signs of a rip tide. Present and accounted for. He cautioned me against being drawn to the stretch of highway that juts out into the ocean, also known as the Venice Pier. I winced at the sight of its barnacle covered concrete pillars. There weren’t many boats to be wary of, but as the morning progressed that would surely change. Probably some jet skis, too.
Anything else you want to tell me to deter me from doing this swim?
If you decide to come in after a mile try not to touch the sand until you can feel it with your hands while still swimming. The sting rays love to congregate down by the Marina. The surf’s not too bad down there so you shouldn’t get thrown about when you come in, but you don’t want to put your feet down.
Alrighty, then.
We waded into the ocean, moving through small waves and waiting out the bigger ones until we finally had to dive under and make our way through the surf to our starting point 200 yards offshore. Then we banked a left and got on with it. As I expected, I was not entirely comfortable. I felt vulnerable. In a shark-attack kind of way, not the open, loving, sensual kind of way.
I settled into my stroke, and gazed into the blue-green water, but not too deeply, feeling unprepared to face what might be looking back at me. It was not as murky as the bay, which proved to be unsettling. I prefer low visibility.
I’ll deal with it if it happens, but until I come face to face with a shark I’m just going to enjoy this morning swim and look forward to walking out of the surf, intact.
I came upon my cousin treading water, waiting to check in on me.
Are we halfway there? I looked toward the crane, hoping the answer was yes.
Well, it’s only been about 10 minutes, so more like a third.
10 minutes felt like 30. Back at it we went. After a few hundred yards, my cousin was just a marble in the water up ahead. I was completely alone. Or so I thought. As I pulled my left arm out of the water and rolled my head to the shore to breathe I saw the arch of a massive back slicing out of the water 5 feet off my shoulder. I froze, my arm cocked over my head, my mouth open.
Dorsal fin or flipper feet? Dorsal fin or flipper feet? Days passed, or time stood still, I’m not sure. And then the flippers of a seal broke the surface.
I sighed salt water. And then laughed. Until I saw how big he was. Then I screamed my cousin’s name, demonstrating my inability to remain calm under pressure in situations involving wildlife. I motored to my right, looking much like wounded prey, and then shot back to shore as if I could fake out a seal. His head popped up once. It was the size of a 20 pound turkey.
Cleo, you’re not in Aquatic Park anymore.
I’ll deal with it if it happens. Whatever it might be. At that moment I became acutely aware of how easily that seal could take me down. But he’d have to chose to do so. Instead he chose to swim off, likely laughing at me all the way. I didn’t dare look for him under the surface. I’d rather imagine him as all head and no body, even though I am sure he was at least six feet long. Instead I looked behind me to see if the food chain was forming at my rear.
All clear.
At the crane I blew a kiss to the sting rays and turned back to the pier to take on the second mile. I can’t say I ever got comfortable like I did in the bay, but eventually the feeling of being cradled by the sea as my body worked with the water to cover ground felt invigorating. Challenging. Exciting.
The surf picked up, and the surfers showed up by the dozens. Everything had come alive. The empty beach was now in full swing. Great. An audience to watch me stumble out of the water, a sting ray stuck to my ass. My cousin was right. This wasn’t going to be easy, but it’s part of the lure.
Uh-huh.
The concrete pillars of the pier would only become a problem if I made it through the surfers and SUPers that congregated to its south. At that point I really didn’t want to go all Wonder Woman on a Monday morning, national holiday or not. I decided to depart a half-mile shy of the finish line. I felt fine with my decision. Until I looked out to sea. The fact that surfers wanted to be on the waves that I had to take to shore should be an indication of their size. It had been years since I had dealt with waves this big. Back then I thought it was cool to get tossed to the bottom of the sea by rushing water. Back when feeling invincible was a survival tool. Now I revel in my mortality.
I rode the swell of a few waves before they broke, getting a little closer to salvation. Then one broke on me, but I got under just in time to swim beneath it. I surfaced and started toward shore again, a little too soon. One look back and I knew I had to swim for it. The wall of water, not the beach. I dove under as it came apart over me. It threw me to the bottom and lifted me up like a puppet on a bungee cord. My bathing suit bottoms shot to my two knees which I made into one by force in an effort to remain partially clothed.
This was my most graceless exit from the ocean ever. So why was I laughing?
Because I made it.
And I will make it through the anniversary of the Pocket Call no matter the waves of emotion I ride or the barrage of angry texts I receive, with my Clear Conscience in one hand and the other on the keyboard.
Until tonight,
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
I’d just like to take a moment to thank you for your thoughtful reply on 8/30. I’ve been feeling very isolated, so it really warmed my heart to know someone cared enough about another person to reply the same day. Thank you!
As you would expect, I’m still struggling with everything. While I’ve improved a bit, some of the pain has turned to numbness. Instead of standing naked outside during a hailstorm for each of my wakeful hours, I’m merely standing in the rain. It’s not as painful, but 24 hours of rain with no safe haven to retreat to is still awful.
It’s been two weeks since my own “pocket dial.” As I mentioned in my post in the comment section, my wife has continued to be very apologetic and loving. Until two weeks ago, however, love and sympathy was lacking in our marriage. Should this be taken as a positive sign of devotion and remorse, or is her rekindled love for me rooted in guilt and fear of our family falling to pieces, irrevocably altering our lives?
Your advice was sound and it was very much appreciated. I agree that I need to focus on myself. I was especially aware of that over the holiday weekend, which I spent my her family. It was very difficult for me to see them under the circumstances. I still have told no one and was trying to maintain some continuity in the event we can repair our marriage. I’m just trying to get to the point I can make a clear, rational decision about how to proceed. There is still too much pain, anger and doubt in my heart. In order to get there, I need to treat myself well.
Thank you again, Cleo. Your words have been very important to me. It’s wonderful that you have shared your experience with others and have taken the time to help us through our terrible circumstances. You make the world a better place.
Thanks,
J
J,
Honestly, J, it’s the least I can do. No one needs to walk alone. SO many people have held my hands when I needed it most, and still do. It feels good to be able to return the kindness. We’re all in this together, no?
I sense that you are moving at the perfect pace as you unravel all that has happened. As I honor the anniversary of the Pocket Call, I remember spending a lot of time alone working through my emotions. I didn’t tell my own mother about The Genius’ infidelity for weeks. I trust that you will follow your intuition and check in with the kittens for guidance when needed as you take the steps you need to take in order to heal.
“Should this be taken as a positive sign of devotion and remorse, or is her rekindled love for me rooted in guilt and fear of our family falling to pieces, irrevocably altering our lives?” I believe that is a question for her. Listen to her words, and then pay more attention to her actions. Are they genuine?
The pain and anger and doubt will linger until it no longer serves you. Its presence suggests that there’s some excavation in order. You have much to work through. But, J, trust me when I say it’s well worth it. As in the best thing you’ve ever done for yourself.
Thank you for your kind words and for being here.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I’m still laughing about the bathing suit! Good for you regardless……and good for you for the strength you’ve had and the dignity you’ve shown over the past year! And thank you for helping all of us as well. You’ve really helped me in ways you’ll never know but I appreciate it. You have been a giant inspiration and you have certainly come out ahead after his giant mistake!
I will have a glass of champagne and toast you tonight thanking you and congratulating you!
Rylan
R,
Thank you, R. I am so appreciative of your support. It’s a big day. One year ago the sound of high heels upended everything. Whew.
I made it this far. Psyched.
I am laughing as well. In the 30 seconds I was under water so much happened! I would pay a hefty sum to see the videotape. Can you imagine the facial expressions? The red hair flying about, the white as snow rump bared to the world? Hilarious. Because I lived.
M’lady, it’s a total joy to have you here. Stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo
I laughed with you. Just now. Laughing at the seriously frightening concept of swimming (without wetsuit, you crazy girl!) in the ocean, alongside a seal, which I just watched on NatGeo’s Shark Week was a shark’s favorite meal. And that folks in black wetsuits are often mistaken for seals, so you probably aren’t as crazy as I thought for not wearing one. My pulse picked up thinking about swimming that distance with surf, and concrete pillars, and surfers, and seals, and god-knows-what-else.
I have a 1.2 mile swim in the spring-fed Kerrville Ponding Lake at the end of this month and will think of you, fighting the ocean, while I swim with the lake bass and hydrilla.
You sure have overcome that silly ole Pocket Call in so many ways. Happy Anniversary.
T,
Oh, T! I didn’t even mention the tiny strands of sea grass that would brush my feet sending me hurtling forth to escape their dangerous grip. As I reflect, I find the lesson in the myriad of emotions I processed in that one hour. We can handle a lot. S’all good as long as the dorsal fin doesn’t appear.
As I went to sleep last night I imagined my reaction had the flippers been a fin. It wasn’t pretty. Sitting freaking duck.
You so know I’m doing it again…
Thank you for your good wishes! Today is a day worth honoring. The day the Universe saw fit to set me free.
Love yourself,
Cleo
another fantasic post and a great week in the post pocket call life of Cleo!! I am hysterical over the fact that even our wonder woman can loose her drawers in the ocean!! freaking LOL !!! and an oh so “happy” anniversary on the first year of your better and better life !! love you and as always miss you!
C,
Had you been with me in the surf we would have rolled up on shore laughing so hard we wouldn’t realize we were naked. Then we’d go find a party boat to take us out and catch some fish. The seal would lead us to his secret spot. It would be teeming. We’d bag 20, I’d pull a hook through my hand for old time’s sake. And we’d say, Look! It’s a Cock, Robin! Right back at you, beautiful!
Love yourself,
Cleo
I’m raising my wine glass to you Cleo. Happiest of anniversaries.
P,
Today has been magical. I am so looking forward to my Clear Conscience and time at the keyboard. Thank you so much for your support, wisdom and love over these last several months. It means the blue marble to me.
Love yourself,
Cleo
May I humbly respond to J, and all his pain? J, Cleo is right, listen to her, but more importantly, trust her actions. Words are only words after all, and I’m guessing there have been some untruths in her words leading up to where you are. Her actions are what count. And as for the apologies and loving treatment you are receiving, please know this is very possibly nothing more than guilt. Guilt at having hurt you because you do matter to her. She may even still love you. But perhaps not in the way you need her to. Regardless of anything I’ve just said, please know you are not alone. None of us are anymore because we are all right here.
“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
P,
Thank you so much for lending a hand to J. You are such a beautiful being for taking the time to support him. You, m’lady, rock.
And I love you for that.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo & Patty,
Thank you so much for taking the time to reply to me. At this terrible time in my life it means the world to me.
It’s been fifteen days since I learned of my wife’s infidelity. I’m just trying to get by until I gain some clarity and stability. I suppose it doesn’t hurt as badly as it did day 1, but it’s still awful. All of the reminders, both real and manufactured. It doesn’t take much to make me painfully aware of my present reality. Sometimes it’s the awful mental images in my mind, sometimes it’s a song or a movie. I never realized how many films include adultery. Yikes!
I’m giving this a shot until I’m prepared to make a sound decision. There are many reasons compelling me to forgive her, but one huge reason not to. I hope I make it through this and come out a better, stronger person. I hope.
Thanks again,
J
J,
You are so wise to proceed as you are. Stay centered, breathe, slow everything down and observe, observe, observe.
I guarantee that this experience will have its silver lining. So glad you are here.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I hope it’s ok that I’m responding to J’s reply……..J, what you’re going through is undoubtedly one of the most painful and confusing thing to go through. Time is the only thing that will give you that clarity to stay or to leave but regardless of which way you chose you WILL be a better you for it! Stronger and better for sure! Of all the doubts you have right now, don’t that that be one of them! People can take so much from us but never give that one away!
All the best to the better stronger you!
Rylan
R,
It is my dream that the kittens take over, dishing out their brilliant wisdom to those that find HGM, just as you have done for me. We’re a team, m’lady. You are so beautiful and kind to take the time to lend your hand to J. I love you for that.
See, J? You’re not alone. Ever.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hang in there J. When you posted this it was only 15 days out. It’s now late Nov. I’m guessing there are still terrible moments or even days. Be patient with yourself. Stay true to your integrity. Like my counselor told me – any decision you can make today can wait 3 days or 30. You want to look back and know you did the right thing. Wait until you’re stronger and more grounded before doing anything besides taking care of yourself. Sending positive energy your way.