It's the most wonderful time of the year...

Yes, this song pops into my head this time of the year.

I know it's technically the wrong season, but I don't care.

For me, it is actually the most wonderful time of the year.

The suffocating heat has gone. Yes, there are a couple days that remind you of what once was, but for the most part the mornings are crisp, the skies are either an electric blue or a delicious grey. The sun goes down earlier and earlier with the evenings becoming crisp again.

Which brings me back to flannel sheets on my bed - which is the best!

Throughout the neighborhood I can smell the smoke from the fireplaces. It only makes me want to get mine going too.

Trees are changing colors. As of today, they aren't real vibrant, but it will be only a matter of days before the pop of color covers the valley in which I live. I love to look out and see the rolling hills change colors. The many shades of yellow, orange, reds and brown make my world look completely different.

Autumn appropriate decorations are cropping up. I've been waiting to buy my pumpkins for nearly two weeks. I'd hate to feed the squirrels that early in the season - and they can really do a number on fresh pumpkins.

Not that I'm looking forward to winter again, but I get giddy about Autumn.

My excitement builds from the end of September until the crescendo of Halloween (one of my most favorite things).

I guess it's the little girl in me who still loves to crunch through the fallen leaves, inhale the damp smell of earth, trick-or-treat, and eat candy.

There's no real need to let those things go. You just need a couple friends nearby who can enjoy letting their inner children out with you once in a while when the world is so full of adult things.

Romeo and Juliet

A love struck Romeo sings a streetsuss a serenade
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made
Finds a streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like, "You and me babe—how 'bout it?"

Juliet says, "Hey it's Romeo. You nearly gimme a heart attack"
He's underneath the window; she's singing, "Hey, la, my boyfriend's back.
You shouldn't come around here singing up at people like that.
Anyway what you gonna do about it?"

Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start
And I bet, then you exploded in my heart
And I forget, I forget the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?

Come up on different streets, they both were streets of shame
Both dirty, both mean, yes, and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?

When you can fall for chains of silver you can fall for chains of gold
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold
You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin, yeah.
Now you just say, "Oh Romeo, yeah. You know, I used to have a scene with him."

Juliet, when we made love you used to cry
You said, "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die."
There's a place for us, you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?

I can't do the talks like they talk on the TV
And I can't do a love song like the way it's meant to be
I can't do everything but I'll do anything for you
I can't do anything except be in love with you

And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
All I do is keep the beat, the bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme
Julie, I'd do the stars with you any time

Juliet, when we made love you used to cry
You said, "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die."
There's a place for us, you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?

And a love struck Romeo sings a streetsuss a serenade
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made
Find a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade
And says something like, "You and me babe—how 'bout it?"

"You and me babe—how about it?"

~Dire Straits

Breathe...

I shut my eyes so I can just listen. Listen to nature and nothing all at the same time. My private back deck is the place for quiet meditation.

The previous owners built a beautiful Japanese garden theme. This would be extra beautiful if I didn’t have the black thumb of death. Not that I’ve killed everything, but let’s just say that it’s a bit overgrown and kind of has a life of its own.

 I believe I could walk naked as a jay bird through at least half of my back yard and nobody would see me or my pasty white ass. (I haven’t tested this theory during the day) Needless to say, the backyard is a place of solitude for me.

The pace of my life can be frantic at times, but I’m working on slowing down - maybe even taking a moment for myself for a change.

As I listen to the cicadas sing their late summer song in the dying of the light, I realize that summer is nearly over already. Where did it go this year?

My eyes open and I look around. The setting sun has bleached the color from the sky. You know the color – right after the electric blue and right before twilight.  Everything skyward is either black or white. All the trees and bushes are muted when only a minute ago their colors popped out at me with the bright and deep greens.

I hear the squeaking of the bats flying overhead and I quickly look out for the fireflies that are still hidden within the safety of the bushes.

I take my time to appreciate the moment. I try to think of it as being shown a bit of magic that usually stays hidden until you’re open to see it. It’s not that I don’t get many moments; it’s just that sometimes I forget to be open and slow down a little. It’s the story of my life rush, rush, rush, hurry, hurry, hurry. Gotta go here, gotta go there, don’t forget this, oh shit I forgot that.

So, sometimes I’ve gotta stop and smell the roses, or listen to the cicada’s sing, or the bats squeak so I can be reminded that life is more than just rushing around.

Growing Pains

As a parent, you do your best to not mess up your kid. Inevitably there will be mistakes. After all, we are only human. You just try to keep damage to a minimum and then offer to pay for the therapy required to fix it.

As the boy goes from being a boy to a young man, I try to help lead him in the right direction. More of a helping-hand rather than a good shove. Occasionally a “Psst, look over there,” will come out of my mouth, but generally I try to give him the space to grow.

But it’s hard.

We (he and I) look at the world very differently. Maybe it’s a gender thing. Maybe it’s a generational thing too. But I’ve never been so sure that he and I look at the world through very different colored glasses.

It would be so much easier if we could both go the same way, but lately it seems as if all we are doing is butting heads. Both of us are stubborn. Both of us sure in our own rightness. Frustration leaks out through the cracks in our foundation.

He wants the perks of childhood and the perks of adulthood. I have to be reality telling him that you can’t have both. Childhood has it’s perks as does adulthood, but they both have drawbacks.

It’s been a tough lesson to teach. And thinking back on it, it was a tough lesson to learn.

Ramble on Rose...

As I gather my things to pack for my trip, I can feel the jolt of excitement zipping through my veins.

Not because I’m going someplace new or even luxurious. It’s because I can’t wait to slow down.

Ironic, isn’t it?

I try to think of what I need and can’t get through half of my short list. I got as far as bathing suit, flip flops, toothbrush.  Then the questions pop into my head,

Do I need a brush?  The answer is no, but I pack one anyway.

How soon can we leave? As soon as I’m done packing – which makes me throw odd items into my bag to make it appear to be packed but doesn’t actually have things I need in it. I’m fooling no one, including myself.

How many books should I bring? As many as I can pack. Better to have a book and not need it than to need it and not have one.

How soon can we leave? Again, as soon as I’m done packing. Better get a handle on my ADD.

After packing all my essential and non-essential items (brush = non-essential/ peanut butter crackers = essential) I am ready to walk out the door.

I’m OCD enough that I check all the locks a prerequisite 3 times and hop in the car. My excitement mounts. I can’t wait. I can’t wait. I can’t wait. I become hyper-focused on my quest. I can’t stop smiling, but when I look in the mirror I can’t tell if I look happy or somewhat deranged.

Heaven help the fools who are in front of me on the road.

Get out of my way! Move it! I’m on a mission! I need to relax in the worst way. Don’t you people understand?!  I need to get there now so I can chill out.

I can see the irony from here, but know that the only way to calm down is not by breathing exercises or soothing music, but by putting my feet in the warm summer sand. I know the moment my toes hit the beach I will release all the tension and pent-up energy and loosen up like a wet noodle.

Why is the beach such a salve to my bruised mental state? Bruised by work tension, general life crap, and just God-awful winter stress, it seems to be never-ending this year.

Why is it that the moment I smell the salt marshes I can feel the manic smile disappear and the easy one replace it? My foot lightens up on the gas pedal and in my head I can hear my inner voice sing “almost there, almost there, almost there…”

Did I have a past-life that was based around the ocean? I’ve been told I have salt-water in my veins and that I can’t help my yearning, and that I’m from Viking and pirate stock. Pretty bad ass if you ask me.  Although I just can’t imagine those types of people stretching out on the beach soaking up the sunshine with a good book to read.

I don’t need to be on the ocean, just near it. The family fisherman warns me of the lurking dangers hidden in the dark depths of the sea. (insert “Jaws” theme here) Ones with big teeth and a penchant for warm flesh to nibble on.  I like my warm flesh right where it is. I don’t want to be considered part of the smorgasbord to be noshed upon.  I just want to listen to the ocean and lay upon the sand.  Is that too much to ask?

Enough of that sad stuff...

The early summer heat felt heavy on my skin. The high humidity makes my hair look flat. I don't have the issue of frizzy or fly-away hair. Never have. If anything it looks even straighter than normal.

The inside of the house is not oppressively hot, but more like stuffy. Even though the windows are open it there is no fresh air movement. It's just lingering. so thick you can almost see it.

Not wanting to suffocate in my non-fresh air I move myself outside. 

It's my favorite time of the year. Early summer. 

My feet are bare. My toes are painted. I'm wearing old shorts and a tank top.

To my delight it is raining.

Not the kind of summer storm that scares the crap out of me with wind, thunder and lightning, but the kind that you just want to dance in.

Arms wide open, face to the clouds, laughter up to the heavens, spinning in large circles so that all of you gets wet.

The raindrops are fat and juicy and oh, so refreshing as they splat on my bare arms and face.

I flash back to when I was in 6th grade and had gotten detention with a classmate of mine. We didn't like each other and spent much of our days trying to torment one another. I'll admit today that she drove me nuts most of the time. 

When we were released from detention after school, we had the long trudge home. Both of us knowing that we were going to have to explain our lateness to our parents. We could agree that neither wanted to volunteer that information.

As we left the classroom it started to rain. Where I grew up, it didn't really rain. Not that often, and not that hard. This afternoon it was pouring. We were leaving the school from the farthest corner and each had a decent walk ahead of us. We knew we were going to get wet. Really, really wet. Squishy wet.

For a magical moment we had an unspoken agreement to just play. Forget the past hurts and let go of the plans for torment in the coming days. Play in the rain. Run, splash, yell, laugh. Get completely soaked. And we did.

I don't know how long we played in the rain. As we walked home we came to our split in the road. Me going my way and she going hers. We parted with smiles on our faces. 

We never became friends, but sometimes when the rain is so refreshing and welcoming  and I think I might want to sing and dance in it, I think of that day and wonder what ever happened to that girl?

Now you see her...

I miss her at strange times.

Not on her birthday or even mine, but at those random times when I would normally reach out to her. Late night weeknights.

It's not one specific thing that makes me miss her. It's just as my life goes on, there are things I wish I could tell her. 

I would share those times when my kid did something great or not so great. We would laugh at the ridiculousness of our husbands and their logic. We would gossip about people around town. We would laugh so hard we would have tears in our eyes. Sometimes I vented, sometimes she did. We held hands over long distance.

She was the girlfriend whom I could tell all and never fear judgement. She would call it like she saw it, and sometimes the truth would sting. But I knew she loved me and she didn't say things to hurt, but to open my eyes. Just like I did with her.

Now instead of calling her, all I can do is sigh and say, "She would've loved that."

I miss her terribly. There's a hole in my heart that wasn't there before. Maybe because she had always been there and now she's not?

What can I say about her death? I was shocked. I was unprepared. I was hurt. 

I don't have survivors guilt. If her own children couldn't keep her on this earth, I sure as Hell couldn't do it.

What I have is the vicious circle of missing her, being sad, getting angry about the circumstances of it all, and then feeling guilty for getting angry, and then getting angry for feeling guilty for getting angry, and then missing her again.

I've said it before and I'll probably say it again - death sucks.

This one just happens to suck just a little bit more.

ps - I don't have the heart to delete her from my phone - it's as if I delete her name, then she's really gone and I've accepted it all, and I haven't. 

Spring has sprung

Finally, it has arrived.

Not that I ever thought I'd express that sentiment in a positive manner.

Spring is finally here and I'm glad.

Today is one of those days my body has been craving.

The light breeze blowing my hair in all directions. Not that I needed the help. It's one of those "bed head" days where no matter what you do, your hair has a life of its own. I might actually look a bit disturbed or something. Oh well, nothing I can do about that.

The sun warms my deranged hair and is pleasant against the back of my neck. My neck hasn't been naked since I do not know when.

The birds are out and so are people. Most of whom seem to be in the same frame as me. Glad to be out without the heavy coats, gloves, scarves, and hats on. I put all that stuff away recently, and it made me smile.

I think even our cats are in better moods.

It's been a long hard winter. We're a bit tired but it's ok.  We experienced truly relying on each other for the health and safety of our family and we pulled it off in our own way with flying colors.


ps - premature excitement

Week 135 of Winter...

Coughing, hacking, wheezing – the winter’s nasty grip on me doesn’t seem to end.

Having my fill of the snow, sleet, and freezing rain I wasn’t prepared for the next assault of Old Man Winter. I have finally figured out that he is a nasty bastard with a mean sense of humor.

First he snowed me in, stole my electricity, and then after I’ve been cooped up for much too long (think of The Shining’s Jack Torrance) he socked me with some kind of gunk to fill my head and lungs. Now I’m stuck on the couch watching bad TV while there’s a break in the weather ,that if I didn’t have a fever burning me up, I’d be out in it sucking in all the fresh air and enjoying some sunshine for a bit.

Yes, I am done with Winter and all the things that go with it.

I sound like I have marbles jammed up my nose and when I cough I sound scary. But, on the scary-o-meter compared to everybody else hacking away, I sound almost healthy.

I can’t wait to open some windows, let all the bad air out and welcome the fresh in.

Unfortunately we are expecting snow for the next few days and unless Willie is ok with me letting the heat out of the house, I don’t think whipping open all the windows is going to happen.

Damn the man.

so done with winter...

Snow Day 2014

My eyes slowly fluttered open after a wonderfully relaxed sleep. Wonderfully relaxed because there was the knowledge that the coming morning would bring a snow day. After a snowfall of nearly a foot, there’s not much you can do about going to work, school, the store, or anywhere other than the driveway to shovel it. And that doesn’t need to be done at the crack of dawn in any case.

As my eyes attempted to focus on anything, I noticed the bright light streaming through my windows. Quite the change from the day before. The prior day held blizzard-like conditions with below freezing temperatures. It snowed so hard that you could hear the hiss of the precipitation piling up upon itself. It was not pretty, it was furious.

Still wrapped in my warm cocoon of blankets, I rolled over to face you. Your smile was my greeting and, uncharacteristically of me, I smiled back.

I could smell the fresh brewed espresso and knew that you had been waiting for me to wake up and start the day.

You handed me my espresso and asked, “Do you want to do something fun today?”

As you continued to smile at me, I wondered what you were up to. We were pretty much house-bound. Were we going to have a movie marathon? Were we going to do some small project that we put off for the last few years because of no time, no money, or no interest – but it still needed to be done? Were we going to whip up something delicious in the kitchen that would make the house smell like a home? Or, my personal favorite, make a fire and read books by it all day?

I felt I knew the “something fun” list so I agreed to it immediately. “Something fun” means exactly that, right? Some thing fun.

Excited to start my day with something fun, I hopped out of bed and ran to the window to see what Father Winter had done to my neighborhood.

My yard looked like a postcard. It was beautiful. The sky was that electric blue with not a cloud lingering. The snow was draped ever so gracefully over my yard. Hiding any blemishes that might have been lurking beneath. It was a winter wonderland in the best way. Not the nightmare like the day before.

I turned to asked you, “What’s something fun?” and you told me, “How about learning how to use the snow blower today?”

Huh.

Not exactly the “something fun” I originally agreed to. Mental note: must ask questions before agreeing to anything.

Seeing that I had already agreed and that you appeared to be excited about the whole experience, I got myself ready to do some learnin’. In good conscience I couldn’t have to do it all by yourself anyway, so I might as well get a move on.

I jammed myself into 1 pair of socks, leggings, long-sleeved t-shirt, sweater, boots, snow pants, ski jacket, heavy gloves, hat and scarf. I was ready.

The learning was quick. It was surprisingly easy to use. In no time I was blasting snow away from my driveway. Clearing paths and having fun.

Yes, I admit it, damn it. I was doing something fun. You knew I would have fun, even working.

I was having so much fun that I decided to do the neighbors driveway too. So not only was I doing something fun, but I was doing something nice and that feels pretty good too.

After I ran out of places to run the snow blower over, I realized that my learning adventure was ending.

We put things away in their proper places and headed into the warmth of our home.

My cheeks were rosy from exercise and the cold and I had light snow blasted onto my hat and hair poking out.

We retreated to the foyer to peel off our protective layers and you started to laugh. Feeling pretty good about myself and the job I did, I began to laugh too. Why not? It’s all good.

You sheepishly admitted, “I felt like I was Tom Sawyer and I was getting you to white-wash the fence.”

I laughed at you and admitted that it felt like that to me too, but it still wound up being a fun project.

Oddly enough, as I think back on the other day I can’t help but hope for more snow this season so I can take care of the driveway again.

Whoa Nellie!