Lee Ann: My new friend

When I commented on a wonderful Bill Hess post, I told him I was gonna blog about a spectacular human being I met this morning.

She and her partner had a garage sale on the next street and we fell into conversation beginning with her statement that "moving is traumatic" and that she's a psychotherapist and it's still traumatic.

That did it. We talked and talked, walking out into the bright blue morning, with lawn mowers buzzing, and a skateboarder sailing down the flat street, and the two of us speaking and laffing about the transgender experience. "So you no longer have a penis?" I said to her, and she said no, the penis and prostate were transformed into a very sensitive vagina w/labia and clitoris. I asked which way was it more fun to have sex and she told me.

Naturally I mentioned I'm working on the Compass mag and she gave me carte blanche to use one of her many pieces on her blog, but I said, Gee, I'd like to quote what we're talking about right now...your continuing instincts to view the world as a man, even though you're now a woman.

From her blog:

For many years I sought freedom on a motorcycle. I grew a beard and looked tough and fearless, but no matter how I appeared or how I acted, no matter where I went or how fast I got there, I could not outrun or outmaneuver my imprisonment [a woman in a man's body]. I was personable and had a few good friends, though they did not really have me, the real me. I even married twice, but both times the marriage did not erase my prisoner status. The first marriage resulted in three children, and then I felt guilty for remaining a prisoner, for I was fooling my wife and children about who I really was. The second marriage did not yield any children, but my guilt was even stronger, for I was more aware than ever of an inner struggle which I was beginning to identify, and yet I continued to pretend I was not a prisoner.



I emerged very late from Scott's house this morning after watching a marathon of Prime Suspect videos starring the great Helen Mirren. Oh, I wish I had someone to talk to about them. Scott sleeps thru em all.

While talking on the phone and checking w/support group members, I did lots of food preparation which includes my Potato Salad sans potatoes. It's in the bowl on the right and features fresh green beans, julienned organic carrots (ah, sweetness!), chopped onion and celery, and the famous sauce of mayo, mustard, smashed garlic, and fresh lemon juice.

I sprinkled sunflower seeds on my portions for complete protein and ate a couple crackers w/it for a complete meal. Mmmmm!

Nature loves to attract us with her beauty, such as this "dumpling squash" from Michigan. I'm steaming it in my electric steamer for dinner. I set the timer for an hour - the skin is thick as a punkin - and it's soft. I'll eat it w/butter and cinnamon.



No, no, it's not Van Gogh, it's me...Little Ruthie painting a sunflower. There's a website w/poems about famous pieces of artwork - I posted it on my blogroll yesterday - and I might try to write a poem about Van Gogh's sunflowers. I think that's a good assignment, don't you? I can bring it in to read to my Art Class. An award-losing poet like me will do anything to find a wider audience.