The last vestiges of summer are upon us already.
It seems like not that long ago we were dragging the patio furniture out of winter hiding.
It won't be long before we pack it all up to make way for snow.
These are the days I wish I could squeeze the sun until it drops liquid sunshine into a bottle.
I would hold that bottle until the depths of winter. When the grey and white landscape proved too much for me and I needed color in my world.
When cabin fever threatens my sanity and getting into mischief is the only relief valve I have from the monotony of being snowed in. Again.
I would drink down the sunshine and letting its warmth fill me up.
My skin would lose its winter pale and take on the sun kissed look.
My hair would lighten up and vaguely smell of ocean breeze.
No doubt my winter doldrums would disappear for the moment. A pleasant reprieve.
If only I could bottle liquid sunshine.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Friday, September 11, 2015
Me and my shadow...
The morning alarm crashed
through my dreams, disturbing the pleasant frolicking with pixies I had going
on. If I could just entice another one to land on my finger, I was sure I was
going to be given the secret they had promised me. I fight to stay asleep –
reality cropping up in my illusion and slowly pulling me out of my slumber.
It’s going to be a slow morning and I need to get moving.
Dragging my body out of bed, I trudge to the bathroom. The glance to the mirror makes me scowl at myself. Bah – I hate the morning – not the reflection.
We share the sink while I brush my teeth. I put on my make up and brush our hair. When we're done we go to the kitchen and pack my lunch. He leads the way, chatting the whole time.
Which, if I had to pick something to like about the mornings, it would have to be that. The interaction between me and my cat.
It’s going to be a slow morning and I need to get moving.
Dragging my body out of bed, I trudge to the bathroom. The glance to the mirror makes me scowl at myself. Bah – I hate the morning – not the reflection.
We share the sink while I brush my teeth. I put on my make up and brush our hair. When we're done we go to the kitchen and pack my lunch. He leads the way, chatting the whole time.
Which, if I had to pick something to like about the mornings, it would have to be that. The interaction between me and my cat.
Monday, July 6, 2015
Oh, say can you see...
My most favorite holiday (generally speaking) is Halloween. I won't go into detail the how's or why's - it is what it is.
However, my second most favorite holiday happens to be the 4th of July. Not because I'm so patriotic, but because of the celebration.
I love fireworks. I love cook-outs. I love the community it brings with the celebration.
The other night I heard the distinctive canisters being lit with the "foomp, foomp, foomp" followed by "boom, crackle, whistle"
Something inside me came alive. I couldn't wait to get outside to see the display. Like a child I was running out the front door with one shoe on and the other in my hand. I didn't want to get slowed down by putting on my stupid shoes.
A local club always shoots off their fireworks almost in my backyard the Friday before the 4th of July. And they're the good ones too.
I ran outside into the street to watch in awe. Clapping and giggling, I can't help myself. My inner child just busted loose. There's something about fireworks that makes me flash back to my youth.
It was that one time of the year that my parents allowed us to run around after the streetlights came on. My neighborhood would have a block party where all the mothers made their particular Jello salad, fathers burned the hot dogs and hamburgers on the grills (just as us kids liked it), and the kids ate their faces off. Running from table to table grabbing what we thought was the best at each and running down the middle of the closed street.
My favorite was the Ambrosia Salad. I can never get enough of that. I mean, what genius mixed marshmallows and fruit cup? My mother certainly didn't make that stuff (Marshmallows a meal does not make - so she said) so I gorged myself.
When it was time for the fireworks, the kids all gathered together and the parents sat in their lawn chairs and waited for the last bit of twilight to slip beyond the horizon. It seemed to take forever and then the show would begin.
It was magical. And loud. And sparkly. And wonderful.
You didn't have to get dressed up. There was no going to church. You didn't get presents - which meant you didn't have to send a "Thank you" to Aunt Lillian. You didn't have to be quiet. You ate and ran around and watched beautiful colors explode in the sky.
So this year I watched and giggled as the explosions in the sky echoed off the hills behind me and reverberated back up to me for a second wave of loud hitting my ears. I loved it. Always loved it. Will always love it.
Didn't even mind the mosquitos.
So yes, Happy Birthday America. Can't wait for next year.
ps - you can make a meal out of marshmallows. I know because I've done it.
However, my second most favorite holiday happens to be the 4th of July. Not because I'm so patriotic, but because of the celebration.
I love fireworks. I love cook-outs. I love the community it brings with the celebration.
The other night I heard the distinctive canisters being lit with the "foomp, foomp, foomp" followed by "boom, crackle, whistle"
Something inside me came alive. I couldn't wait to get outside to see the display. Like a child I was running out the front door with one shoe on and the other in my hand. I didn't want to get slowed down by putting on my stupid shoes.
A local club always shoots off their fireworks almost in my backyard the Friday before the 4th of July. And they're the good ones too.
I ran outside into the street to watch in awe. Clapping and giggling, I can't help myself. My inner child just busted loose. There's something about fireworks that makes me flash back to my youth.
It was that one time of the year that my parents allowed us to run around after the streetlights came on. My neighborhood would have a block party where all the mothers made their particular Jello salad, fathers burned the hot dogs and hamburgers on the grills (just as us kids liked it), and the kids ate their faces off. Running from table to table grabbing what we thought was the best at each and running down the middle of the closed street.
My favorite was the Ambrosia Salad. I can never get enough of that. I mean, what genius mixed marshmallows and fruit cup? My mother certainly didn't make that stuff (Marshmallows a meal does not make - so she said) so I gorged myself.
When it was time for the fireworks, the kids all gathered together and the parents sat in their lawn chairs and waited for the last bit of twilight to slip beyond the horizon. It seemed to take forever and then the show would begin.
It was magical. And loud. And sparkly. And wonderful.
You didn't have to get dressed up. There was no going to church. You didn't get presents - which meant you didn't have to send a "Thank you" to Aunt Lillian. You didn't have to be quiet. You ate and ran around and watched beautiful colors explode in the sky.
So this year I watched and giggled as the explosions in the sky echoed off the hills behind me and reverberated back up to me for a second wave of loud hitting my ears. I loved it. Always loved it. Will always love it.
Didn't even mind the mosquitos.
So yes, Happy Birthday America. Can't wait for next year.
ps - you can make a meal out of marshmallows. I know because I've done it.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Just one more thing about my cat....
How stupid did I feel when I was completely broken up about my cat?
I tried to keep the family drama hush-hush but I couldn't hide the wavering lips as I crumbled to ask for a day off. The little voice in my head kept telling me that my feelings were ridiculous.
It's just a stupid cat.
I took my personal day from work and took care of my family through our tragedy.
I needed the day. It was not a good day for me. I cried for most of it and whimpered when I wasn't actually crying.
When I returned to work on Monday I had my emotions under control and was ready to get back to work. Put my grief into mad paper shuffling.
To my surprise there were cards and flowers on my desk just waiting for my arrival.
I had arrived before many of my co-workers, so the office was quiet and I could have a private moment to open cards and smell the flowers.
Each card was signed with heartfelt condolences and a level of understanding I hadn't expected.
It was wonderful.
I could tell the evil little voice in my head to finally, "Shut up!"
Yeah, I lost my fuzzy buddy and it broke my heart, but that's ok. It's good to be sad for that reason. It's ok to miss him and laugh about the things he did.
There are other people in this world who totally understand what I was going through and they're no nuttier than I am.
ps - and then I'm done
I tried to keep the family drama hush-hush but I couldn't hide the wavering lips as I crumbled to ask for a day off. The little voice in my head kept telling me that my feelings were ridiculous.
It's just a stupid cat.
I took my personal day from work and took care of my family through our tragedy.
I needed the day. It was not a good day for me. I cried for most of it and whimpered when I wasn't actually crying.
When I returned to work on Monday I had my emotions under control and was ready to get back to work. Put my grief into mad paper shuffling.
To my surprise there were cards and flowers on my desk just waiting for my arrival.
I had arrived before many of my co-workers, so the office was quiet and I could have a private moment to open cards and smell the flowers.
Each card was signed with heartfelt condolences and a level of understanding I hadn't expected.
It was wonderful.
I could tell the evil little voice in my head to finally, "Shut up!"
Yeah, I lost my fuzzy buddy and it broke my heart, but that's ok. It's good to be sad for that reason. It's ok to miss him and laugh about the things he did.
There are other people in this world who totally understand what I was going through and they're no nuttier than I am.
ps - and then I'm done
Monday, April 20, 2015
Snowflake 2003-2015
Brokedown Palace (by The Grateful Dead)
Fare you well my honey
Fare you well my only true one
All the birds that were singing
Have flown except you alone
Going to leave this broke-down palace
On my hands and my knees I will roll roll roll
Make myself a bed by the waterside
In my time, in my time, I will roll roll roll
In a bed, in a bed
By the waterside I will lay my head
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
River gonna take me
Sing me sweet and sleepy
Sing me sweet and sleepy
All the way back back home
It's a far gone lullaby
Sung many years ago
Mama, Mama, many worlds I've come
Since I first left home
Going home, going home
By the waterside I will rest my bones
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
Going to plant a weeping willow
On the banks green edge it will grow grow grow
Sing a lullaby beside the water
Lovers come and go, the river roll roll roll
Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
Fare you well my only true one
All the birds that were singing
Have flown except you alone
Going to leave this broke-down palace
On my hands and my knees I will roll roll roll
Make myself a bed by the waterside
In my time, in my time, I will roll roll roll
In a bed, in a bed
By the waterside I will lay my head
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
River gonna take me
Sing me sweet and sleepy
Sing me sweet and sleepy
All the way back back home
It's a far gone lullaby
Sung many years ago
Mama, Mama, many worlds I've come
Since I first left home
Going home, going home
By the waterside I will rest my bones
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
Going to plant a weeping willow
On the banks green edge it will grow grow grow
Sing a lullaby beside the water
Lovers come and go, the river roll roll roll
Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
Monday, March 9, 2015
Adios Old Man Winter...
I've reached the end of my rope.
Winter has done me in.
Not that it was so horrible - last year was pretty dang bad and definitely worse than this year.
It just seems dark this year.
Too long and too dark.
I miss the sun. It's not like I live in Alaska where daylight is only 1/2 an hour a day, I just prefer more sunlight that we've been getting.
I miss driving around with my windows open. I tried to do this last week and got an ear full of blasted snow slush from the road. Not nearly as fun as I had hoped.
I miss reading under a tree. It's too hard to concentrate while shivering from the sub zero temperatures. Not to mention your butt gets wet when you just sit in the snow.
I miss mowing the lawn. I'd mow it now but it's under nearly a foot of snow.
I miss going to the beach and feeling the sand between my toes. I realize I can do this same action today, but it's not the same when the "real feel" is below freezing.
I miss short-sleeved shirts and pretty little skirts.
I miss my summer shoes. I'm tired of clomping around in my boots. Ready to kick ass? Yes - but not as pretty.
Ugh, I'm just cranky and bitchy and ready for nicer weather.
Winter has done me in.
Not that it was so horrible - last year was pretty dang bad and definitely worse than this year.
It just seems dark this year.
Too long and too dark.
I miss the sun. It's not like I live in Alaska where daylight is only 1/2 an hour a day, I just prefer more sunlight that we've been getting.
I miss driving around with my windows open. I tried to do this last week and got an ear full of blasted snow slush from the road. Not nearly as fun as I had hoped.
I miss reading under a tree. It's too hard to concentrate while shivering from the sub zero temperatures. Not to mention your butt gets wet when you just sit in the snow.
I miss mowing the lawn. I'd mow it now but it's under nearly a foot of snow.
I miss going to the beach and feeling the sand between my toes. I realize I can do this same action today, but it's not the same when the "real feel" is below freezing.
I miss short-sleeved shirts and pretty little skirts.
I miss my summer shoes. I'm tired of clomping around in my boots. Ready to kick ass? Yes - but not as pretty.
Ugh, I'm just cranky and bitchy and ready for nicer weather.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Kadachrome...
The trip down memory lane can be filled with laughter at the things we had done and captured on film.
It can be littered with sadness with pictures of those we have lost along the way.
It can be peppered with a longing of past days when we were skinnier, had more hair and were better looking.
It can also be a learning experience. To see where we have come from and quite possibly where we are heading.
As I go though the volumes of pictures we have scattered around the room, I have been invited into your childhood. I will admit, I didn't think there were so many pictures chronicaling your life. I am pleased to see all the missing teeth and smiles along your path.
Everything isn't in an order that I can understand, but since you let me express my OCD, things are getting in order (just as life should be).
This has been a great project for us. I know you've seen me at my best, and at my worst. I'm a camera hound, so there are some doozies in there. There is no shortage of pictures of me hamming it up.
I was happy to find you as goofy as me.
Is this a weird love letter to my beloved? I guess so. I just feel like after all these years, I'm getting to see another side of you. One where I've heard some stories, but now I can see what you're talking about.
And, believe it or not, I've heard some new stories too.
Thank you for sharing your childhood with me.
Ps. Say "cheese"
It can be littered with sadness with pictures of those we have lost along the way.
It can be peppered with a longing of past days when we were skinnier, had more hair and were better looking.
It can also be a learning experience. To see where we have come from and quite possibly where we are heading.
As I go though the volumes of pictures we have scattered around the room, I have been invited into your childhood. I will admit, I didn't think there were so many pictures chronicaling your life. I am pleased to see all the missing teeth and smiles along your path.
Everything isn't in an order that I can understand, but since you let me express my OCD, things are getting in order (just as life should be).
This has been a great project for us. I know you've seen me at my best, and at my worst. I'm a camera hound, so there are some doozies in there. There is no shortage of pictures of me hamming it up.
I was happy to find you as goofy as me.
Is this a weird love letter to my beloved? I guess so. I just feel like after all these years, I'm getting to see another side of you. One where I've heard some stories, but now I can see what you're talking about.
And, believe it or not, I've heard some new stories too.
Thank you for sharing your childhood with me.
Ps. Say "cheese"
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