It All Stops

That one time of the day when the voices stop their annoying whispering in my ear.  The shaking of the fingers scolding me for my wasted moments, the sad shaking of the head for my neglect of friends and family, the negative thoughts of what a waster of time I have become all stop while I say goodby to another precious and beautiful day.  Tomorrow I get a fresh start to be a better and more productive person.

Touching

I used to feel I wanted to be touched.
I waited for not only the physical whispering touch
on the palm of my hand,
but the sweeping touch on my heart,
and the powerful touch on my mind.

The touch that would make me swallow my breath,
give me flight
to soar over the universe
and see all and conquer all
and understand all.

The touch that made me into

             Superwomanwarrior.

The touch 
Kindling a fire that never failed to
burn bright and white hot
for its brief time.

The touch that reduced the impossible
to possible.

The years now trail politely behind me
offering only faint memories of smoke and ash
and little warmth, with a few glowing coals
as I walk away
to meet the not so distant future.


This is the time in my exploration
of the universe
I realize that
I want to be that touch.

I want to electrify,
to be the contingency in others before I die.

I want to punch potency
into others hearts and minds.
I want to send them up on a
spiraling cloud of heat rising
to see the universe with new eyes
and new possibilities.

And
My ego
Wants them to remember my touch
when they face their not so distant future.

Constipated Zen

It is true that it is has been a longer gap than usual for posting.  I  have been waiting for some profound thought to give me stimulus for a wise, intelligent or even humorous post...an exception to the rule.  I have been waiting for something to write that elaborates, enumerates, or illuminates.  I noticed the other day that this blog has shrunk in followers which is a nice bit of evidence on how boring I have become.  Of course, I would continue to write even if no one read this, because I do still write for my own creative outlet.  It is like eating and pooping...I just have to do it.

Alas, my dear brain has entered a far dimension these days...maybe I left it in Aruba with that curious blue lizard?

Maybe  I gave it too long a rest after finding my future daughter-in-law and I are in such a magical and wonderful space together and I do not want to tamper with that by thinking too much.

Maybe I have absolutely emptied it - my mind?  That is a scary thought.

Wait!  I am trying to find a focus here!  It is like knocking on the door of an empty room for conversation.  No one answers because no one is in there.  I open the door and there are just dust bunnies and faint shadows and the hollow sounds of my footsteps.

Death and politics.  This is all that seems to sneak into my thoughts when I let it..  And certainly both of those subjects are not small enough to write about nor safe enough to even consider these days.   Beauty and peace find their way to my other blog, so that outlet is well satisfied, and not surprisingly, that blog has grown in number of readers. 

You know that I am going to die, if not imminently, and I know the same about you.  I cannot change that by writing about it.  ("if you mean 'famous' or 'superior' you want eminent; if you mean 'impending, about to happen' that is imminent; and if you mean 'present, inherent,' your word is immanent.")  That was tricky.

You know who I am going to vote for and I might know the same about you, but since we are adults it is unlikely we will change each others minds if we are not in agreement.  The world, especially Europe and the Middle East, seems to be collapsing.  The poor are getting very poor which means dark days ahead globally.  So, should I write about that?

That leaves puppies and babies and what I ate for breakfast..since I am on my own this weekend it was a biscotti with coffee..  Maybe I should post a photo?  Nope, this is not Facebook...........Guess I will go see what is happening there.

Restoration

What a busy vacation!  One whole week of beaching, snorkeling, eating at fancy and not-so-fancy restaurants, hiking, touring, going to festivals, swimming in the pool, shopping, and of course, photographing.  But in the very center of all the activity and in the physical center of the island itself I found my center and some restorative peace.  We visited the oldest church (rebuilt of course) and while I have mixed feelings about visiting churches on remote islands from outside religions by non-natives, the simplicity and honesty of this one calmed my spirit.  There were no bells, whistles, gold leaf or tragic icons to call to the attention of a distant god who might have forgotten them.

Inside was one lone soul praying quietly in the cool shade and whom I did not frame in the photograph.

Behind the church was something even more refreshing and inspiring.

I do not believe in traditional religions but I do believe in the power of prayer.  I slowly walked this maze and said to my self with each careful step "Peace on Earth. Goodwill Toward Men."  I held in my mind the embassies across the globe with their hardworking diplomatic corps wondering if they will be called home without warning on this day or if they might face a greater challenge through no fault of their own.

And then we took a tourist photo for remembrance.

Summer Reruns#

The smooth face of a butter-cream surf-sanded shell
The marvelous smooth pre-kissed cheek of a grandchild

The starfish shaped prints in the sand after flight of a watchful great heron
The tiny hand print in sand of an elated child who came later

The familiar hand-hold of your husband at the end of the movie before you enter the car
The rose petaled floor of your son's well-planned engagement evening*

The feathery drift of dozens of yellow butterflies against a blue sky
The last smell of a sunset peach rose before the first petal fall
The earthy taste of a sun-kissed tomato

The icy sip of a glass of something cold and bubbly
The scattered song of a teenage titmouse dancing on the roof

The giggle of a toddler dancing in the grass
The jazzy rhythm of bold cicadas hidden from view
The gentle burr of a hummingbird at your back

and
The magical sparkle of an ever higher climbing fairy flight of fireflies
against the black silhouette of a tree before the blush of the moon.

 #Perhaps a little sweet gooey like too much pink cotton candy at the fair...but it is honest, honestly.
 *Details, perhaps, in another blog post.

(In answer to the prior post she was most amazed that the statue did not wear underpants!)

That Talk We All Avoid

My 7-year-old grandson is visiting us this week. He had a free week from his summer schedule and we are thrilled to be able to share this time with him. Seven is a magical age. I had forgotten how wonderful it is to pal around with a seven-year-old! There are a few things we have to push him to do and others which we let him opt out of as his days are super scheduled most times. This generation rarely has time to do nothing. We give him that and unlike his sister, who has to be endlessly entertained, he can amuse himself for hours with a Lego kit or a craft project.

We have a local sculpture garden (out here in the boonies) and they have an annual "Fairies in the Garden" exhibit. They make it fun for the kids by creating puzzles and mazes along with the fairy houses.

I took him once again this year, because I know he soon will be too old for such silly stuff and I will be too old for the more exciting stuff he will want to do.  ( I have little desire to shoot down a zipline.)

He is now of an age where he notices more things in this sculpture garden beyond the fairy houses, and that has led to greater discussions...such as "What is a torso?"  and comments such as, "She looks scary without her arms, don't you think?"  This sculpture below almost led to another whole new discussion for which I had not prepared.  Grannies, beware!

I love how intrigued he is by this magical girl in pigtails.

Sunset Cruise

For me, this warm month is just the opposite of that physics where the sun hits a balloon and expands it to a nice bold size where it can bounce around with joy.  The sun (and resulting heat) hits my soul and deflates me as if all that hot air (that some might say I have an abundance of and love to share) disappears into the cool air conditioning and I collapse in a semi-coma on the sofa like a limp shadow of myself.  I search about for just the tiniest bit of energy to finish one last chore but every ounce seems to have retreated to the shadows.

My husband, on the other hand, is full of energy.  He has so much energy that just sitting still mid-afternoon might give him a heart attack and he cannot bob his foot long enough before he must jump up and begin another task.  He can always find some chore outside that needs to be done and come back in an hour later drenched in sweat looking like an Olympic swimmer with victory all over his face at the success of completing another chore on an unbelievable August afternoon.

This week he asked for an evening canoe trip after dinner.  I had put him off too many times and with his birthday (number 69) just around the corner, I knew I had to agree.  I indeed felt too guilty to turn him away one more time.  This wasn't really a 'canoe trip', because he attaches a small wooden transom to the stern of the aluminum canoe and starts a small gasoline motor that moves us through the humid air drying the sweat from our brows as we skim the water.

We crossed the inlet of the finger of the river and headed to the open waters where most boats had already reached their home dock in the waning evening.

We disturbed two birds (barely seen on the far left of this photo above) as we passed the area of the shore that is an orgasmic retreat for the fossil lovers at our local museum.  The dirt is like cement, so only the most dedicated would dig for fossils here.

I was concerned about the setting sun since our canoe cannot be seen by motor boats very easily.  Hubby handed me some bow lights and I spent a concerted effort while bouncing on a small chop trying to attach them under the lip of the bow in front of me.  Finally I was successful and when I tried to turn this red/right green/left light on I pushed and pulled without success.  I called back in frustration after my painful efforts.  Hubby explained with a carefree smile that that he had been having trouble pushing the light switch as well!  So we scooted on into the gray light without lights.

We pulled into a quiet beach that was exposed at low tide just to poke and explore and say a blessing for another day.

The beach was initially quiet and colored shells and pebbles decorated the shore.

I was just beginning to enjoy the end of the day when two energy addicted folks crossed the sunset with more enthusiasm than I have seen in quite a while.  Why am I the only one whose account is empty of energy?

I sat on a log and it groaned open mouthed.  No sympathy here.

Finally we got the sunset we were waiting for to recharge our spirit.

And just like an Olympic warrior in celebration of a great challenge hubby held the torch high as we made our way home.

Groaning

I have nothing to write really.  Friko would like something humorous to read, as would many bloggers, because life just seems a little too depressing right now.  But I cannot write humor at will.  My mood has a little to do with an acquaintance who's daughter fell to her death from the roof of a building in New York recently.  It was accidental as she was talking on the phone.  I also lost a distant friend who died of cancer within weeks of symptoms after a return from a vacation to Hawaii.  I was not close to either of these people which certainly does not diminish the importance of their lives in anyway nor keep their family from my thoughts.

I read on the Internet where global climate change has increased the intensity of the storms and climate scientists are now seeing moisture thrown up 60,000 feet from these storms which is blowing holes in the ozone layer of our atmosphere.  Extremely dangerous to our health.  A reality that is inconvenient to those who think it is God's will.  I think this God threw up his hands long ago and is now overseeing another planet.

I also read where climate change is causing more dangerous anomalies and  "If global warming approaches 3°C by the end of the century, it is estimated that 21-52% of the species on Earth will be committed to extinction (3). "   If you love watching your head explode over multiple graphs with bad news, read the above article from the Columbia University Earth Institute.  If not, just take my word for it...we are in deep doo-doo.

I cannot watch TV because both Presidential candidates realize that negative ads are much better than actually focusing on solutions to problems. Of course, if Obama focuses on the accomplishments he made in spite of a constipated Congress, he is accused of bragging in dire times.  And facts be damned.

The Internet is filled with discussions about schizophrenia and automatic weapons with neither side even bringing forth ideas of worth.  Banning automatic weapons...really??

There is a very good chance that food next year will cost 5% more due to the global drought.  Since I need food more than Television, I called Comcast and asked them to drop all my premium channels immediately and the sports package that my SOL added over a year ago.  (He had to watch games while he visited!)  I saved over $54.00 a month with that little move.  You can close you mouth before you catch a fly. 

On a lesser note, I planted sunflower seeds not once, but twice this summer, and lost 99% to deer, ground hogs, rabbits, and a tiny cutworm that I found at the bottom of one seedling tray.  I gave up.  No sunshiny yellow happy faces to improve my mood in the simmering days of summer.

Yes I could focus on all my many, many blessings...but right now I want to moan and groan...so shoot me.

Peace.

New Hampshire baby waterfall

Falling in Love Again

Two days of intense and painful swollen neck glands and a knife sharp pain on one side of my throat when I swallow has been the way Thursday and Friday have gone for me.  Heavy doses of pain killing PM sleep drugs to get me through the two nights.  I am home alone as hubby has headed to the city for a meeting and a doctor's checkup and a toddler's graduation.  Impossible to figure out how I caught this as my exposure to small children was not intimate at the seedling booth that I worked last week and I used the bacteria wipes at the grocery store as I always do...although I did sit with hubby in a doctor's waiting room, but never touched the magazines!

I am missing the toddler's (little gal) graduation from preschool with regret but was feeling so sick the regret is small.

On the third day I ate a sweet peach for lunch and then took a long afternoon nap.  When I woke at 4:00 PM it seemed the fever had finally lessened and my throat pain was no longer impossible to endure. I could actually swallow without thinking I had a knife plunged through one of my Eustachian tubes.

I pulled myself out of bed at long last.  Thinking my weekend visit with the kids coming here may get off to a great start after all.

Then just as I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair and put on fresh new clothes my best medicine cure arrived on dancing feet.  My 6 7-year-old grandson who came back with my husband ran into the house to greet me and see how I was doing.  He has lost both of the two front top teeth and both his bottom teeth and this toothless silly smile and lispy dialogue fills me with indescribable joy.

We had a 20 minute conversation about the loss of his teeth over the last few weeks,  the economics of the loss of teeth (such as daddy dropping one of the four teeth down the sink and they calling plumber to retrieve the dropped tooth).  I certainly went wrong in not teaching my children how to remove the elbow joint beneath the sink!  Then the next tooth was lost on the playground at school.  Several green bills later the fourth tooth is left with the tooth fairy and grandson has 12 dollars in his bank!!  Then our happy conversation drifts on to Harry Potter and how at 6 he has already read a shortened version of the first book and has brought the DVD with him so that he can finish seeing the visual of the story.  I ask if it is not too scary for him, and he insists he just gets scared at certain parts like where the troll is, but he knows it is just a movie.

Then with the twists and turns of magical conversations with young folk we talk about how he used to love Thomas the Train and how that time has passed so rapidly that he has forgotten the names of many of the trains which results in a brief search on the Internet down memory lane.

Then as I lay back on my sick bed, not really feeling sick anymore, he heads off to the kitchen where grandpa is making a grilled cheese sandwich with carrot sticks and freshly picked raspberries for dessert and the chore of picking more raspberries after dinner.

Remember when you fell in love and you could not do anything without working that person's name into the conversation, or working it into doodle or a daydream?  Well, it does happen again in old age.  I am so absolutely, positively lucky that this young boy has a happy and rich life and that he loves sharing it with me!  I do not deserve this, but I will not give it back!

Solitary Creatures

Alone,
Hearing the sigh of air through the rooms of the house
Feeling the fall of the dust through the sunbeams
Creating the echo of a distant laugh from memory

No other soul to share this faint laughter
No other being to study my countenance
No other person to worry about my sloth

The day moves slowly with no rhythm
Just the length of the shadows skirting the lawn
To remind me of the passing time

Today's solitary activities create
No regrets or anxious goals to be met
or concerns for a different tomorrow

All is at last at an even keel
The balance of a perfect floating bubble
And this I will treasure for the whole of time.

(Oddly enough, this was written before the adventurous weather ride we recently took...perhaps created due to the prior drop in air pressure on my brain, you can see I was in a very different state of mind before the storm.)

Something Good

The morning has been washed with last night's rain and the air is cooler than it has been in almost a month.  One might actually think that autumn is waiting somewhat impatiently in the wings.  I am sitting out on the deck with beach towel covered chairs watching my grandson build animals from "play doh".  Towels keep the dampness from our legs.

Due to summer scheduling my grandson has no where to go this week, so we are attempting to provide some activities that can compete with the activity filled summer camps he has been attending since regular school was out.  Parents who both work spend hours in the spring signing their children up for this and that greatly enhanced babysitting service that can safely and expensively keep children occupied.

Weather has generously decided to be on our side this week and it does not look like we will have to spend hours indoors...as the week heats up again, we will see.

In the background I hear our little water fountain gurgling away on the patio below, my grandson is humming to himself ( a sure sign he is involved in something he enjoys), and the sea gulls are laughing back and forth across the river.  High in the wet tree leaves some bird is singing a joyful song with several movements.  As I type these words a hummingbird graces us with his presence, hovering at the edge of the patio umbrella and checking out our activities, adding another layer of perfection to the morning.

Then my grandson decides to share his latest escapade with Mario and Bowser (do not ask) and it takes some lengthy repetitive telling to reach the end of the story, which after twenty minutes he never actually ends, just stops talking from exhaustion and a need to visit the bathroom.  I realize that no one has probably ever listened to him for twenty minutes any time recently, and I ask questions and add comments, pretending this is the most amazing conversation I have had in days  Being a former teacher, I realize that allowing him to expound is good development towards future communication.  He does not have all of my attention, because I am distracted by the joy in his face and the twinkle in his eyes.

Mornings like these I pause in thankfulness for the reward, and like Julie Andrews, I keep thinking I must have done something good.  ( I do not even mind that my coffee has grown cold.)

Writing in the Third Person

Trying to keep track of her is like trying to keep track of that annoying summer fly in the bedroom while you are reading.  She buzzes in and then she buzzes out...creating an annoying distraction.  What on earth has she been up to?  She has at least a dozen half-read books scattered across her nightstand... symptomatic of a scattered brain.

Last time I saw her she was out in the garden staking plants that had been pummeled in the inch of rain deluge the night before.

Then 30 minutes later she was squashing Japanese beetles with her bare hands!  Yuck!

Then, just after that, she had her camera in hand and was adding ANOTHER 100 flower photos to her million plus files, hoping to find something that will attract attention on the Internet.

Now she is staring at the pile of laundry with her hands on her hips.

She should be making reservations for her fall trip to Colorado and Utah.  (OMG!  Does that mean we must suffer through  more photos?)  She should be planning the menu for the end of July trip with family to Hilton Head.  She most certainly should be exercising so that she does not resemble the beached whale in the swim suit when she gets there.

I give up...where is she now?  She is due for another blog post.

Friends and the Roles We Play

Here is another take on people that help us.

I first met Oscar about 4 years ago when we were putting in our lawn to this new house. (The lawn in the photo looks much nicer than it is...mostly mowed weeds.) I had already started a few flower beds and it was early fall and I was attempting to clean out some of the areas around the larger plants.  I could tell he was interested in my work and so I attempted a conversation in simple English.  Oscar spoke Spanish but was able to give me some advice on some of my plants as he assisted with the lawn.  Perhaps there was an ulterior motive to his attention, because later that month when we wanted to move some larger plants my husband gave him a call and asked if he worked outside the landscape company.  Fortunately, he said he could work on the next Sunday.

Later we started that large paving project which disrupted that blue bird nesting I had written about.  Oscar and his brother and other workers spent over a week in our front yard tearing up the concrete sidewalk, aligning the driveway, installing pavers and putting down a composite to hold them.  They had to re-work some drainage and adjust a retaining wall.  The supervisor, who was not Spanish but an overweight good ole' boy, rarely moved his butt from the tiny earth moving bulldozer as he provided advice to the three laborers through arm waving and calling out.

Oscar was smart, followed instructions exactly, even gave some good advice and we ended up with a lovely driveway.

Over the years Oscar has been an irregular Sunday visitor to our home whenever we needed help with a project that hubby could not do alone but which was too small a project for the landscape firm.  He moved enormous plants, reset brick edgers, moved tons of earth, set up a small patio beneath my arbor and helped repair our deer fence.  He is always gracious and his English has gotten better.  Oscar has a generous smile and is a handsome man; I have watched him go gray.  He has two daughters the age of our President's that he has to leave back in Mexico with their mother for months at a time while he works in the United States.  He works at the whim of the landscape company.  Today he told us that they are laying him off for three weeks because of the slow down in demand.  He cannot afford to live here without a paycheck so is returning to his family during that time.  I cannot help but think how expensive this must be.  Expensive in monetary ways as well as expensive in personal ways.  His daughters have grown up and he has been far away most of the time.  He has had to live in a foreign land to earn money so that they can go to school, have clothes and a home.  I wonder how much they miss him.  I wonder if they will realize the sacrifices that were made when they have families of their own.  This lifestyle is somewhat like the lifestyle that military families must face.  Long days, perhaps even dangerous days, far away from their precious families.  Except our military does get benefits in terms of retirement and health care.  Oscar only gets an irregular paycheck.  I am sure (?) that the company would hire local laborers if they could find people who were willing to work under such arbitrary conditions and at such a low pay level.

I get a deep seated guilt (such is the disease of the liberal heart) when he is here.  We pay him slightly more than the landscape company and he is happy for the work, but I cannot help but feel uncomfortable in my safer lifestyle.  I feel like I am in one of those Hollywood movies and I do not fit the part, or if I am in denial...I do not like how well I fit the part.  I am blessed to celebrate the 4th in this country when I see the struggles other countries face trying to determine their path to a form of democracy that fits their culture and economy and with citizens that willingly come to our country for any job because they are aware of our unique freedoms and opportunity.

One Day

She rests easy in the dark night sky. Her gentle face reflects the peaceful light of eternity. We are trying to shelter against war, famine and earthly destruction.  We are trying to close out angry evil sounds.  We close our ears to the cry of pain.  We close our eyes to shut out ugly visions.  We sigh and breathe in dust-filled air.  But, if you cast your eyes upward, she will remind you, that this too will pass. The beauty of our earth will survive in time.  She will return to bathe us in her silver calming light until all is healed.  Peace is patient.

Can You Spare a Dime?

The saying that 'life can change on a dime' is familiar to many of us.  I searched the Internet to see where this expression came from.  A dime is thin.  A dime is not much money.  A dime is the smallest in size of American coins.  What does this expression mean?  Does anyone know the origin?


My life almost changed on a dime a few days ago.  After a casual running of errands and some successful plant purchases which I carefully wedged into the trunk of the car to keep them upright, I was heading down the county road toward the bridge that provides access to my side of the river.  Traffic was steady but not crowded with everyone doing 45 and keeping the correct distance.


A nasty storm was building on the distant horizon so people were probably a little eager to get to their destination.


I was following a construction truck full of equipment with three large aluminum ladders tied to the top bars above the truck bed.


Suddenly and without warning the middle ladder flew into the air and tumbled toward my car.  I hit the brakes (not too hard but steady) and pulled to the right side of the road toward the easement worrying about the cars behind me not being able to slow down and hitting my rear.  The ladder hit the pavement on one leg and did a pirouette before falling to the ground.  It then started sliding toward my front tires following me to the right even as I swerved.  Luck was on my side as the ladder came to rest just beside my car as I continued to move by it and came to a stop several yards in front of the now stationary aluminum missile which I saw in my rear view mirror.  It lay at an angle just inside the lane.  


I quickly looked in my rear view and side mirrors.  All of the cars behind me slowed suddenly and began to creep by.  The truck driver in front pulled to the side of the road and then ran back to see me.  He was a big black fellow with a heavy Southern accent.  He was so excited that I had trouble understanding him at first.  He was far more excited than I, clearly worried he might have seriously hurt me.


I reassured him that I was OK as he repeatedly apologized for not tying off the ladder more securely.  


Oddly enough I was not frightened or even concerned, just relieved that it had all happened without great incident and it wasn't until I got home that I remembered my plants were still in the trunk.  I hurried to open the trunk and was amazed to see they had remained tucked upright belying the near accident.


Yes, indeed, life can change on a dime.

Savouries of Life, Repetition on a Theme

When I was a child I remember how rare candy was at my house.  It was rare because of cost, not so much the enforcement toward healthy eating, but I am sure that was part of it.  I can remember squirreling away my Halloween candy (admittedly a large bag of it) in my dresser drawer and stingily eating little pieces of it all winter and into the spring until Easter candy took its place.  I can remember the rare bag of M and Ms being parceled out piece by piece to all three (long before the birth of my two younger siblilngs) of us kids making sure we all had the exact same number of pieces.


New clothes were also a big deal.  I remember one Christmas getting a pink sweater with golden new-moon shaped beads around the neck that I wore and wore until the moons were tarnished, it had become tight under my arms, and it had developed too many holes to wear anymore.

We never had any magazines at our house and I remember devouring them in the reception area of the doctor's office, always hoping that we had to wait a long time before the nurse called us into the examination room.

There were no distractions of children's television, video games, computer activities or phone texts.  I could savour the lilacs blooming each spring in the back yard right after breakfast and I did.  A good book and my imagination took me on wonderful journeys more detailed than any Avatar movie whose scenes were designed through another's vision.  A trip to the city was an exciting adventure, even though we didn't do anything more fun there than shop in a few stores.  It was the change of scene and sound that I savored.

If you are allowed every distraction, adventure and luxury as a child, do you ever really savour it.  It will be there tomorrow or next season surely once again, why bother to savour it?  Do your learn the technique of savouring something or does your life consist of hurrying on to the next best thing?  Must the skill of savoring be learned?  Does a chocolate cupcake crammed into one's mouth or with just the frosting eaten first taste as good as that one that you eat ever so slowly and think about each bite as it coats your taste buds knowing that it will be a long time before you get to savor another?

Ten Questions to Ponder.

1. Do you ever wonder if we truly have only a finite number of heartbeats in our magnificent body?
2. Do you wonder if you had started writing poetry when you were young that you would have run out of poems by now.
3. Do you wonder if there could ever be too many children to love? (No. this is not an Octomom question.)
4. Are 1000 digital sunset photos too many to collect?  What about 2000?
   
5. Is it better to live in a society with too many rules or too few?
   
6. Can you remember the last time you laughed until your face hurt?  (I can, but it was too long ago.)
7. How many love songs can be written before they all sound too familiar?
8. Would you be bored by too much good news?  Would you like to try it and see?
9. How old do you have to be before you are too old...for whatever life throws your way?
10. Finally, what do you have too much of and what do you have not enough of?
    

I am off to warm my toes in some Florida ocean water knowing full well that Mother Nature's disposition will follow me with tropical storms and maybe tornadoes there.  (If you want to know why, check in on my other blog in a few days to see what is happening in the Room Without Walls.)  Meanwhile you can ponder all of the above!  I will bring my laptop and be checking in.

Cold Windy Day!

Being retired means, for most people, that everyday is Saturday or Sunday.  Baring economic hardship, you can pretty much do what you want.  Baring guilt trips or health restrictions you can pretty much do it as long as you want.  Baring the attitudes of people you live with you can do it all day if you want.

Lie in bed and pull the covers over your head on a cold windy winter morning.
Grab the binoculars and watch the bird feeder for hours until your stomach reminds you that you have eaten nothing yet today.
Drink your coffee slowly and mindfully rather than in scalding sips on the way to work.
Read an entire book in one sitting.
Watch more than one movie on DVD in an afternoon.
Spend an afternoon wondering how on such a windy and cold day the geese can manage to tack their way flying down the river pulling into stalls and then tacking to the other side to continue with their progress.  Takes them much longer on a day like today.  Spend another hour trying to get a good photograph of that challenge.

And if you have a little Puritan work ethic in your soul, as I do, go through all those old files in the basement with your husband and reduce them to 30% by tossing or shredding the 60%...
OR actually exercise through an entire episode of NCIS which you have seen several times before!

Lessons Learned as Summer Comes to an End

Grandchildren are loaned to us so that we can pass on our well-earned wisdom to their generation and make the world a better, more evolved place...ummm, well... not exactly. I've learned so much from this little soul this past summer that I often wonder if I have been sleepwalking through most of my life. Maybe I learned this stuff a long time ago and just forgot it as I grew up to battle adulthood?

Sometimes on a hot summer day at the pool you need to stop skipping and sliding and swimming and splashing your grandpa and just think about how the day is going thus far. You need to stop and think about all that you are enjoying so that you can remember it or focus on your next attack.

You need to Captain your Ship of Life if you want to end up in the best place for you. Don't be afraid to take the wheel, even if it seems bigger than you and you have to stand on your toes to see where you are going. Remember that those you love are still behind you to support your decisions and to help you on your journey.

Set your boundaries really wide. Your sand castles need moats that cover all the room that you can find on whatever beach you choose. This photo is 1/3 of the final sand castle that was created. It eventually included a mountain with trees and a volcano spewing lava red rocks collected from the beach. No project is too small for a creative soul.

It takes a lot of patience to wait for a fire to die down so that you can roast marshmallows and it is OK to wiggle and squirm when you are trying to be patient about something important. You don't have to look like a saint!

When you finally reach to top of the mountain (airplane, whatevah) remember all the loved ones and friends that helped you get there and be sure to help them all you can by sending your best as well as giving them a hand.

And, finally, throw out your arms in total abandon and don't forget to ENJOY the ride. It certainly goes by really, really, really fast.

(As I explained in an earlier post this is pre-written...my computer is in the shop and actually I am packing tomorrow for the trip.)

The Junk Trunk Revealed---Part I

It seems that readers of my prior post are somewhat masochistic...so lets take a tour of this old trunk.

I opened the heavy trunk lid and one of the hinges broke away as that side of the lid slid to the floor. Inside everything was dusty from bits of yellowed paper and most of the items in a jumble. So much for how well my brother (or his wife!) packed the trunk. This vase above (what used to be a vase) has absolutely no memory for me. Was it a gift I bought my mother on my travels? Was it some stupid trinket I bought for myself? This vase had never been used. So much for the hope for treasure.

My life was absolutely so filled with very important events that I had to make a huge and comprehensive scrapbook of all my high school activities followed by another thick tome of all the cool stuff I did in college. These thick scrapbooks are filled with mostly cocktail napkins, theater tickets, theater programs, old ribbons, newspaper clippings, my band letter(s) and a very few awards as well...nothing that even my children would find of interest today. There was also a JFK scrapbook filled with newspaper clippings.

My music tastes were somewhat prosaic, but I had no money and so each album was purchased with care. I also had some Frank Sinatra albums and an entire collection of Shakespeare productions on record (OMG, what a bore was I?), but where those went I surely don't know. Does anyone remember the singer Claudine Longet and that terrible murder in Aspen?

Above is the dress I wore to my Senior Prom. I am so surprised at how thin I was. I was actually elected "Queen" of the prom that year. Before you get impressed (ha!) my graduating class was under 25 students and only half of those were girls. I do think this Jacqueline Kennedy style of dress has stood the test of time. If I was still that thin ( yeah, big dreamer) and still had somewhere formal to go, I think would wear it.

Now I am going to sit down and open these scrapbooks...more to follow. That ought to be somewhat interesting.