Grateful Friday

Phaa somewhere in Scotland

I am deeply grateful to my dear friend, Francine, effectionately know to me as "Phaa". She has been a true friend and enormous inspiration as I continue my quest to declutter my life and return to a more healthy physical state.

My Plague Years

I was out and about today and observed this solitary pigeon on the window ledge of one of the older downtown buildings. I had been doing a lot of thinking earlier in the week and this pigeon seemed to pretty much sum up how I've been feeling lately - out on a ledge overlooking if not a long drop, certainly a great expanse stretching out before me.

Between thoughts about my workplace, changes in Don's work, the defeat I have felt regarding my weight, and the feeling of being overwhelmed by material stuff, I began to see that there was a connection through much of this. I now see it as the weight of circumstances and my path to re-invention. Ghandi said, "My life is my message." When I look at the chaos of my workspace and the excess that has attached itself to my body and the excess of possessions, I see the pattern rising up and staring at me like a laughing, manical clown. If my life is my message then I have serious housecleaning to do. I must declutter, focus on the internal process that keeps me so disordered, and with the discoveries, translate the actions into change.

I've been asking God for a long time to show me what He means for me to be doing to help others. Then Francine came to visit again this week. As we tore through dresser drawers and closets, madly decluttering, tossing, and shipping off to Good Will, I finally started to get it. How could I ever make my life my message if I kept myself buried under excess weight, excess possessions, and a growing mountain of "hope to do" projects? No wonder I've read so many books. It was easier to run away than to meet the challenges head on. Somewhere between Mother Teresa who gave so richly, one life at a time, and Bill Gates who gives so richly on a macro level, there must be a spot for me. I won't be able to see it until the mountains of "stuff" are removed from my life.

This week was a good start. I had 16 drawers packed with stuff and by the time we were finished trawling through it all, I had emptied 8 drawers and lightened the load in the rest. My closet has been reduced by HALF. I had clothes in there I wore 40!!! years ago. What a joy to open my closet and see space. We re-arranged the bedroom and now I have my own private sitting spot. I promised myself two weeks ago that I would not eat anything white - no potatoes, no processed rice, no pasta, no white processed bread. I've lost five pounds.

But perhaps the best thing that happened this week was discovering the connection the weight of all these circumstances had with my inability to produce my art on a regular basis. I am the keeper of family pictures going back to the late 19th century. Most of these picture are in storage boxes and bags and aren't in much order. Many of them are unidentified and therefore can't be put in any sort of context with family members. And since my mother can't speak anymore, any hope of identifying these people died three years ago. But now the pictures have all been moved to one place and I have determined that the only way to move forward in a meaningful way, is to get the pictures in albums. This will also mean getting rid of any images that, with the passage of time, have become anonymous shadows. Finally this barrier will be gone.

Carl Rogers said (or maybe it was Maslow) All I need is someone to love, meaningful work, and hope for the future. I have all of that and more. Family and friends equals love, I have meaningful work to do on my body, my home and that mountain of pictures. And with this I have hope that in the future I will hear more clearly what I can do for others because clearly, God wants me to take care of myself right now.

Quanah's Haikus

Stock Exchange

Imagine my surprise when Quanah told me that he had written three haikus on his way back home from Ohio. He just sent them to me this morning. I'm so delighted with them that I had to share them here. I'll have to ask him where he was when they came to him.

Sunrise I
Shades of blue ascend
Lights conquest has now begun
Day has conquered night

Sunrise II
Shades of blue ascend
Light in love illumines world
Day has broken night

Sunrise III
Heaven's Light above
Breaks through dark to make descent
The dawn has cometh

Sunday Scribbling - Music

Pearl’s Legacy

My world was filled with music.
Whites, a grey deck, harmonies and
the haunting tones of a French horn
joined with a crisp snap of a flag
unfurling to meet the morning sun.
Colors played.

Discordant drone.
Unharmonious hum.
Eyes raise and mind stands still.
Instruments drop like bombs

as awareness crashes in.

My duty station filled with blood.
Body parts stacked.
Tourniquets twisted.
Men screamed and died
crying for their mothers.

My world became filled with the sound of
explosions and endless cries of fear and pain.
I never played music again.

Forty-eight years passed and then was caught a glimpse
of seeds of my old self taking root again.
There was a voice and then a double bass.
A saxophone followed as the boy explored the orchestra.
He was on a quest to fine the instrument that would call his name.

A bassoon stood up and revealed the same haunting sound
expressed by the long ago lost French horn.
“Come play with me”, it said. His quest was finished.
Through junior high and high school and college,
phantom memory followed the boy into manhood.
Music filled their world and the phantom memory rejoiced.

Finally, it was music that followed him into that final sleep.
He rocked in the embrace of the music and as last light faded
HE filled the world with his own music again.

In honor of my father, Seaman/Musician Russell C. Bastian,

assigned to the USS Nevada, December 7th, 1941.

I'm Fixed - late Grateful Friday

I'm FIXED. And my thanks to Tara, Tammy, Autrice, and AscenderRising for sending your suggestions for assistance. Lord, I hope I did not forget anyone. It is much appreciated. Here is what happened and I pass this along in case you find yourself faced with the same problem.

I noticed that the sidebar problem started at a particular entry so I went into that post (in this case it was the book recommendation post). I looked through all the html tags and nothing seemed out of place but then I realized that instead of connecting the book title with a link, I simple pasted the link into the body of the text. So, I cut the website address from the body of the post and linked it using the icon in the message bar. Problem solved.

Since this problem started on a Friday, I will post this now as a Grateful Friday entry. I am grateful that this happened because it lead me to start backing up all my post since March. I'm copying them into a word document that will be used in a few months (after much editing) to become Volume One of Memories that I will give to my children at Christmas every year. I hope to be doing this blog for many decades to come and my children will have a tangible reminder of me, their parents, their family, and their life.

Thanks again to all,
Blessings,
Annie

Request for Help

I seem to have created a bit of a problem with my blog and don't really know how it happened. All of my profile, sidebar lists, etc. are at the bottom of the page. My efforts to fix the template have been futile. Can anyone give me any guidance?

Thanks
Annie

Book Recommendation - Year of Wonders

After doing the Reading MeMe, it occurred to me that there are so many many books that could have been on this list. I am currently reading Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks. What an amazing read this has been. I highly recommend you click on the link below and discover this fascinating story.

What I've read. What I will read. The rest is a blur.

Book Meme Via Pomegranate and Paper. Working on a book meme, was a great way to start my day. So many books still to read.

If you do this, just BOLD those you've read, ITALICIZE the ones you've been meaning to read and ??? the ones you have never heard of. Leave unmarked anything you know you will never get around to reading. Add your own comments at will.

Allcott, Louisa May--Little Women
Allende, Isabel--The House of Spirits
Angelou, Maya--I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
Atwood, Margaret--Cat's Eye
Austen, Jane - Emma
Bambara, Toni Cade--Salt Eaters
Barnes, Djuna--Nightwoodde
Beauvoir, Simone--The Second Sex
Blume, Judy--Are You There God? It's Me Margaret
Burnett, Frances--The Secret Garden (Countless times and still reading it)
Bronte, Charlotte--Jane Eyre
Bronte, Emily--Wuthering Heights
Buck Pearl S.--The Good Earth
Byatt, A.S.--Possession
Cather, Willa--My Antonia
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Christie, Agatha--Murder on the Orient Express
Cisneros, Sandra--The House on Mango Street??
Clinton, Hillary - that would be a no.
Cooper, Anna Julia--A Voice From the South??
Danticat, Edwidge--Breath, Eyes, Memory??
Davis, Angela--Women, Culture, and Politics (Nope. Grew up in the 60's. Heard it all)
Desai, Anita--Clear Light of Day??
Dickinson, Emily--Collected Poems
Duncan, Lois--I Know What You Did Last Summer
DuMaurier, Daphne--Rebecca
Eliot, George--Middlemarch
Emecheta, Buchi--Second Class Citizen??
Erdrich, Louise--Tracks??
Esquivel, Laura--Like Water for Chocolate
Flagg, Fannie--Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe
Friedan, Betty--The Feminine Mystique
Frank, Anne--Diary of a Young Girl
Gilman, Charlotte Perkins--The Yellow Wallpaper??
Gordimer, Nadine--July's People??
Grafton, Sue--S is for Silence (Actually I think any will do here)
Hamilton, Edith--Mythology??
Highsmith, Patricia--The Talented Mr. Ripley
hooks, bell--Bone Black??
Hurston, Zora Neale--Dust Tracks on the Road??
Jacobs, Harriet--Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl??
Jackson, Helen Hunt--Ramona
Jackson, Shirley--The Haunting of Hill House
Jong, Erica--Fear of Flying
Keene, Carolyn--The Nancy Drew Mysteries (any of them)
Kidd, Sue Monk--The Secret Life of Bees
Kincaid, Jamaica--Lucy
Kingsolver, Barbara--The Poisonwood Bible
Kingston, Maxine Hong--The Woman Warrior??
Larsen, Nella--Passing??
L'Engle, Madeleine--A Wrinkle in Time
Le Guin, Ursula K.--The Left Hand of Darkness
Lee, Harper--To Kill a Mockingbird
Lessing, Doris--The Golden Notebook
Lively, Penelope--Moon Tiger??
Lorde, Audre--The Cancer Journals
Martin, Ann M.--The Babysitters Club Series (any-Read them with my daughter)
McCullers, Carson--The Member of the Wedding
McMillan, Terry--Disappearing Acts
Markandaya, Kamala--Nectar in a Sieve??
Marshall, Paule--Brown Girl, Brownstones??
Mitchell, Margaret--Gone with the Wind
Montgomery, Lucy--Anne of Green Gable
Morgan, Joan--When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost??
Morrison, Toni--Song of Solomon
Murasaki, Lady Shikibu--The Tale of Genji
Munro, Alice--Lives of Girls and Women
Murdoch, Iris--Severed Head
Naylor, Gloria--Mama Day??
Niffenegger, Audrey--The Time Traveller's Wife
Oates, Joyce Carol--We Were the Mulvaneys
O'Connor, Flannery--A Good Man is Hard to Find
Piercy, Marge--Woman on the Edge of Time??
Picoult, Jodi--My Sister's Keeper??
Sylvia Plath, Sylvia--The Bell Jar
Porter, Katharine Anne--Ship of Fools
Proulx, E. Annie--The Shipping News
Rand, Ayn--The Fountainhead
Ray, Rachel--365: No Repeats (Why is she on a list of women WRITERS?)
Rhys, Jean--Wide Sargasso Sea
Robinson, Marilynne--Housekeeping??
Rocha, Sharon--For Laci (I live 20 mins south of Modesto. Don't need to read this)
Sebold, Alice--The Lovely Bones
Shelley, Mary--Frankenstein
Smith, Betty--A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Smith, Zadie--White Teeth??
Spark, Muriel--The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie
Spyri, Johanna--Heidi
Strout, Elizabeth--Amy and Isabelle??
Steel, Danielle--The House (if you've read one, you've read them all)
Tan, Amy--The Joy Luck Club
Tannen, Deborah--You're Wearing That???
Ulrich, Laurel--A Midwife's Tale
Urquhart, Jane--Away??
Walker, Alice--The Temple of My Familiar
Welty, Eudora--One Writer's Beginnings
Wharton, Edith--Age of Innocence
Wilder, Laura Ingalls--Little House in the Big Woods
Wollstonecraft, Mary--A Vindication of the Rights of Women
Woolf, Virginia--A Room of One's Own

She's so tiny. I'm so . . . well.

I had the great joy of meeting Tammy, our Daily Warrior, face to face today. Many of you know Tammy via her blog and I am fortunate to live only about 90 minutes from her. We met for lunch at Applebee's in Sonora and enjoyed salads, conversations, memories of our children, hopes for our futures and the always present but strongly fought enemy, ALS.

This tiny woman has, I think, a will of iron and a smile and heart as big as the world. She does not possess a scrap of self-pity. Sharing this time with her inspired me to live up to my promise I made to myself yesterday to eat nothing that is white. No, I didn't mention this to you today, Tammy, but the contrast of we two in the picture makes me sadder for me than I could ever feel for you. Like you said over lunch, "I have a great love, children, a beautiful home, a grandchild. What else could I what"? What else, indeed.

52 Influential Books #5 - Vision

Out of Rosenheim (Bagdad Café) is a look into the minds and lives of some people most of us have met but few of us know much about. This tale exemplifies how one person in the right place can affect a community of lives. The book/movie seem to express the view that all change and "magic" comes from hard work and mutual acceptance. A well-crafted view of the lives of tourists everywhere and the difficulties they can face. A whimsical and lovingly photographed look at the vast wasteland that is too often ignored by much of humanity.


Bagdad Cafe may seem like a peculiar choice since the word "vision" does not appear in the title. However, there is a moment in the movie that is deeply moving and our heroine literally exhales the words, "My Vision". It is a truly breathless moment and so, just like that, Bagdad Cafe became Influential Book #5 on my list.

One Deep Breath - Pathway

photo from Stock Exchange

Birds alight, stillness

Silence reigns over the grove

Waiting continues

Sunday Scribbling - The Last Bed

On November 18, 1999 my father was just beginning to acknowledge that his battle with cancer was over. For purely selfish reasons, I did not want my father to decide to forego further treatment starting that particular day since it also happened to be my birthday. As it turned out, my father's 79th birthday was on Dec. 1st and he had already taken his last chemo treatment. We had a little party and some friends of his came by to visit. December 6th hospice had moved my father's last bed into mom and dad's dining room. Once my father laid down in this bed, he never got up again. Six weeks later, he left us.

Father
You have not been in a hospital for three weeks,
You have not been connected, wired up, linked to, or ported.
You are embraced in the love of family and friends.
A blessing this is.

Father
The bed arrived this week.
You gathered us around you while you still had strength
and had David read yours and mom's Living Trust to us all.
David, such a big, strong man, choked.

Father
It is Christmas Eve.
Everyone is with you.
I have stayed at home preparing the Christmas feast.
A phone call -
A demand to come -
Urgent. No argument allowed.
I scream in the car all the way to the family home,
"GOD!!! YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY FATHER WAY FROM ME ON CHRISTMAS EVE!!!
I scream for 18 minutes.

Father
You surprised me tonight.
You are wearing your reading glass
perusing updated insurance documents that have arrived this day.
Where did this burst of energy and focus come from?

Father
Your home has become Party Central.
The stream of family and friends is endless.
Could anyone ask for a better leave taking?
I am very wrapped up in the approach of death,
that same wrapping surrounded by the arms of God.

Father
There were -
Tender moments
Games
Music
Prayer
Gentle touches - so many
and more Music
Music was an essential part of your heart.

Daddy
We never thought when
you lay in that bed
you would never leave it.

We didn't know the morphine would
take you away from us before death did.

We didn't know that the bed would
become a soft cloud that would slowly
carry you away from us.

Life's Little Details

Where I go, my purse goes. Where my purse goes, my camera goes. And so it goes that I was able to record some of life's little details.

The beautiful green leaf is part of a white barked willow that hangs over our driveway. At certain times of the year it makes an unholy mess on whatever car is parked on that side of the driveway and I think there is an unspoken understanding in our household that whoever gets the clear side first always has first debs. I don't believe I've ever seen anyone voluntarily park under the tree if the clear side is free even in the dead of summer when there is shade.

A few days ago Don surprised me at work to pick me up at 4 p.m. He doesn't usually get off work until 5 or later so it was a nice surprise. We stopped at Starbucks on the way home and while sitting out on the patio, Don made a new friend. Now you have to understand that Don speaks cat. There is not a cat on the planet that he can't charm into his lap. This little feral kitty just jumped up into his lap like he was the Pied Piper playing his pipes.

Today as I walked out to the car at noon to pick up Krista for lunch and officially start my two weeks off, I noticed an odd little triangle shape hanging from beneath my car. From a distance it looks really strange but as I drew closer I discovered that Mother Nature had simply thrown together a bit of debris that got hung up on the undercarriage of the car. It was an amazing little bit of artwork nature had served up. I immediately bent down contorting myself so me and the camera were basically upsidedown. I pointed in the general direction of the debris and managed one "clear" shot. Several stages of cropping later, this is what turned out to be the best of the group. One of life's little details.

Happy News

Some days just naturally start out with a smile. This is one of those days. I am feeling more positive about work. Nothing has changed but I've talked to a couple of people here and the talking helped a lot to focus on the areas of real difficulties. So, things are slowing evolving here to a good place.

Kris graduated and got a job at a local doctor's office. She started yesterday and is now planning her next step which is working on her AA degree and eventually going into a nursing for her BSN.

Quanah is engaged. He and Erin plan to marry in June of next year. We are still waiting on the Idaho job but the school board met yesterday to discuss new hires so he should hear something very soon now. Erin has one more year of grad school to finish and then they'll marry.

It is just a naturally nice day today. Not too hot and there is a light breeze. A perfect, my kind of day.

Lost Wednesday again

It's Lost Wednesday again with Erika and I contributing a bit of musing on the most mysterious program on TV these days. I've gathered up the thoughts of the faithful from last week. Some of them are baffled like me.

1. It's all a big experiment of human behavior by scientist nut jobs.

2. People are connected for a reason - reason to be determined.

3. One faithful viewer thinks that WE might be the real lab rats with the producers stringing us along to see how long we can take it. (Personally, I think this has some merit.)

4. They might all be dead and on the island to sort out what was unfinished in their past life. Hummm. Purgatory?

5. Ultimate theory - they are all children of the Others sent out into the world and now returned. Here's a thought though - it looks like the parents aren't happy with their return and are "eating their children".

One comment indicated "All I hope is that when the series eventually ends it is a worthwhile ending with all loose ends tied up. What do you think?" What DO you think?

Now that I've gotten passed the withdrawal period, I genuinely miss the smart writing and unexpected twists and turns of this show and can't wait for Fall. However, one thing - when it does return, it would be nice if we had more that 5-6 new episode and then go into repeats until January. Whatever happened to straight through viewing?

Proof of Life

For the past two weeks I have been recording the unfolding and emergence of one particular agapanthus bloom. As I watched it unfold, I was reminded yet again of how perfectly and fully formed living things are even in their smallest and most undetectable state.

One Deep Breath - Moonstruck

Photo from Stock Exchange

Halo on the moon

Outside my window glowing

Sleep descends on me

Sunday Scribbling - A Mystery Memory

A little while ago as I was leaving my mother's apartment, I noticed that the crepe myrtle trees were in full and magnificent bloom. It reminded me that I still had the bloom time to look forward to as my crepe myrtles were still at the bud stage. As I stopped to take a picture of the pretty pink display, I came face to face with Mr. Bumble Bee busily feeding on the nectar. Not being terrible fond of stinging insects, I stood a healthy distance from him, pointed the camera and clicked. I quickly did a 180 and made a fast escape to my car. I had been reminded of the one time I had been stung by a bee and until recently, I did not know that THAT experience of ten years ago had been at the "hands" so to speak, on one of these not so little guys.

We were nearly at the end of a ten day tour of England and France with the Modesto Symphony Youth Orchestra. Late in the trip we had returned to London and we were on our way to our departure point and one more stopover before catching the plane home. It was early in the morning and I had just settled into my seat on the bus when I felt this terrible ache that slowly spread into excruciating pain. It was like someone had lit a match under my skin.

Don was sitting next to me and was pre-occupied with settling in and didn't notice. On reflection, how could he have not noticed? But that will remain one of life's little mysteries. Quanah and Kevin (one of the other chaperones) were behind us and they noticed my extreme distress. They were swatting at my shirt and Quanah freed the remains of the bee from my back and someone removed the stinger. Another student ran up to the front of the bus and broke into the bus driver's mini-fridge and hurried back with an icy cold can of soda to put against the sting. Don, of course by this time was fully alert to what had happened and had jumped in.

On reflection, it all seemed to go in slowmotion but in fact it must have all went pretty fast, so Don's reaction wasn't slow, just not the first. Perhaps it wasn't so mysterious after all though for the longest time I wondered why he had seemed so oblivious. It was Quanah who just recently informed me that it was one of these monsters of the bee world that had decided to sacrifice himself on the alter of my back. All I can say is, "Gee, thanks". And thank God I did not have an allergic reaction, but then Quanah just HAD to further inform me that often reactions don't set in until the second time you are stung. Now why did he have to tell me that? Another one of life's little mysteries I suppose.

Grateful Friday

It's Grateful Friday and I am inspired to write here for the first time. Problem, is there some central somewhere that I post my entry as there is for Sunday Scribbling? Help!

It is the first Friday of my many Friday's off this summer.

I am grateful for all the vacation time I build up during the year so I can give myself so much time off during the summer.

I am taking the time to clean out and clean up the fridge. I am actually grateful to have the inspiration to do this.

I am grateful for my children and their can-do response to the list I posted of things I want to get taken care of this week.

I am grateful that I won't be alone in the efforts.

I am grateful for the joy that has come into my son's life.

I am grateful for the joy my daughter gives me. I am so proud of her.

I am grateful that I have a room I can completely devote to my art and writing. Now just organize it - AGAIN!.

I am grateful for good friends who help me finally get the backyard space I have wanted for so long.

I am grateful for the honesty I was able to find within myself to start examining needed changes in my life.

I am grateful for the cautious voice with me that is helping, not hindering.

For Corey

Carthage, Tunisia March 2005

Timeless moving stone
Watching foundations emerge
Angels taking flight.

Lost Wednesday - a snippet

How many of you are "Lost" fans? Erika and I have been comparing notes on missing Lost (that sounds very strange together on re-reading) and decided that perhaps a Wednesday evening Lost fix was in order. So, for the next few weeks, there will be little mentions here of the show until Fall comes around again. For those of you who are hooked on this show, I'm sure there is a big "YES" rising out there. It's bad enough that we are in reruns but does it have to be at the same time as "Gilmore Girls" withdrawal though I'm really mad at the writers and what they have done to the show. But getting back to Lost. As much as I love the show and the smart writing and convoluted story line, I sure hope they get the crew out of the hatch and back into island exploration and discovering answers. There are so many loose ends on this show, its beginning to look like a mop. And what's with the killing off of three of the women this season all about? Those storylines were just getting interesting and bang!, they're gone. And the art imitating life argument just doesn't wash. So, thoughts? Shared commismerations. Opinions? And just what the heck do YOU think might be going on?

Evolution

January 1989 – I have caught the brass ring on the merry-go-round. After 29 months in the valley, I have landed a job at CSU Stanislaus, one of the better places to get a job in our area. And, it is a permanent job, not one of the designated “temporary jobs” that can go on forever and ever and ever. The permanent designation lends it a special cache of, well, permanence. The job comes with a safety net. All I have to do is get through a 12-month probationary period.

June 2006 - I've been so tired all year. This job has changed so much that what was at least a two person job with one person running it, has evolved into almost a three person job. Over the past 17 years there have been so many procedural changes on campus that much of the responsibility that fell to other offices has now rolled downhill to the departmental, administrative level. Much of the time I feel I am spinning ten plates in the air like a juggler and am waiting for a plate to crash. At least two plates have crashed on me in the past week. It was plate No. 1 that finally made me confront the fact that I need to make some changes in my work life. I need to:

1. Retire; or
2. Streamline my job and cut back on hours; or
3. Change to another position elsewhere on campus.

The third option is the least desirable of the three with, of course, affordable retirement being the most ideal. This is most attractive because of the option I would have of returning part-time to work on special projects. Most likely though may be option No. 2, which is not a bad option. So, why now? What has changed to lead me to this potentially drastic change. When will this happen? Who will I become. Where do I go from here?

The "why" is easy to answer. I'm burnt out. I'm so tired all of the time from keeping the various strings of the job together and building better mousetraps to make sure the plates don't crash, that it's just not working for me anymore.

"What" has changed is the fear factor level in my life. It has decreased considerably. I was terrified of financial changes a few years ago with the children still in school and all the needs that go with getting them safely to adulthood. Since I don't feel so fearful anymore, I feel freer to explore other of life's possibilities.

The "When" pretty much hangs on what I learn about retirement benefits. I submitted a request for two different retirement dates this past Monday and the results will act as a guide for how much longer I will work full-time. I should have that information via mail in the next few days.

And the "Who". Now there is the big question. Who I Am has always been a big question. I am wife, mother, care provider, worker, sister, friend but . . . . Lately the "who" has been expanding and the inception of this Blog actually catylized this expansion. I am also a poet, writer, photographer, artist. I have a world view that needs to be explored and at 58 I feel that I am a bit on the downside of this exploration and I'm really just getting started with it. But I still have a pulse and a healthy mind and healthy attitude so I really have as much time left as I am able to grab from life at this point IN my life.

And "where" will this lead me? I haven't the slightest idea but isn't that what the adventure, the romance of the risk taking is all about? I feel I have step up to a closed door and opened it. I have not walked through that door yet but I'm standing there looking at the view. It looks pretty damn good from where I am standing.

Changes

I didn't realize that I had not written here since Satuday morning. Not a terribly long time away but feels odd nonetheless. But the time away has not been wasted time. In fact, I've been wrestling with a problem for quite a while and was ducking the main issue of "What do I really want"? Well, I confronted that question Saturday afternoon and my thoughts have kept me very pre-occupied. The good news is that I'm now ready to start writing about it. So stay tuned. Cait, if you are reading this, think about what you did recently and that will give you a clue.

Sunday Scribbles - Earliest Memory Deja Vu

My earliest memory -

What an odd feeling of deja vu when I read this week's prompt. I just KNEW that I had already written it so I went looking and sure enough, I found it. The Sunday Scribble - When We Were Wee.... was all about my earliest memory. I hope you don't think this is lazy but, since we can't really have two earliest memories (and I have always treasured this memory as my absolute first), here it is again at this link.

http://scenesfromaslowmovingtrain.blogspot.com/2006/04/when-we-were-wee-sunday-scribble-3.html

I hope it is new for many of you.

Another wonderful photo from Stock Exchange

On The Road

Stock Exchange photo and so much like home.


Today was about being on the road. I was a passenger tucked away in the backseat and had an opportunity to observe my children. We were on our way to the Sacramento Airport to send Quanah off on yet another plane trip, this time to Portland Oregon. The objective this time was not a job interview but the chance to see his girlfriend for the first time in three weeks.

On the way up I discovered that communication had again swung back to a balanced center between brother and sister. Kris' successes in school this year have been a huge confidence builder and she has become a more articulate person, more able to hold her own in a conversation without being overwhelmed by emotion. Quanah has changed from being idealistic, judgmental, and dogmatic to a mature confident speaker who actually listens intently, engages in conversation, and offers not the ANSWER but alternate ideas as food for thought. I have seen these two go through so many changes together with the tie of love between them tightening or loosening as their own personal growth sent them off in very different directions. But now with their own paths mapped out and personal loves in their own lives, they have moved back to the tie between brother and sister I remember from their youth.

As we left the airport later, we call friends who live in a little mountain town an hour up the road and a long detour from our straight shot back home. Thus the day unfolded into a series of fun and ordinary events that could be so easily forgotten if not recorded here.

Kris visited with her old friend Paul;
Visiting with Barbara (see Barbara's Hands) catching up on family news over shepherd pie;
Our visit accompanied by the energetic darting about of hummingbirds outside the window;
A fast trip to Walmart and crazy laughter as I got hung up on the seatbelt in the backseat;
The purchase of a hummingbird feeder and food;
The purchase of a white nightgown to replace the one I left in the hotel room in Ohio;
A picture frame to give as a gift to Jennifer as she awaits the birth of her child

And finally the trip home and the beautiful early summer backroads that had us passing through El Dorado, Plymouth, Ione, and Clements before finally reaching 99 South, the final leg of our very circular adventure. But the day did not end for me there. The mail brought me a very special package from Vancouver, BC - a gift of socks from Becky. I had oo'd and ah'd over the color of these socks a few weeks ago and unbeknownst to me, she had decided to send them to the first person who said anything about liking them. I am the lucky and happy recipient. And there was a little box of Dutch Girl Chocolates as well. Ummmm, Heaven. Thank you Becky. So, all in all it was a very ordinary day but experienced as something very extraordinary.

What I WAS? Sometimes I think I still AM.

You Were a Mouse

You quietly examine life's lessons and see multiple meanings in things. You are also good at discovering details and remaining in the background.

What Animal Were You In a Past Life?