Habitual Hesitation

Well, I'm hitting the heebie jeebies that I always get when heading off into new territories. I've been all kinds of excited about it, until now, when I try to put outfits together and think about all the people, the beautiful people and then think how I'm not gonna be right for that beautiful people place and then...well, you get it. And at some point, I will swirl until I ask myself why I planned something in the first place and then I will try to think about how I would feel if I didn't go...and at that point, I will finally begin to climb back up. Realizing that not going would be extremely disappointing and I would remember that decision for a bad long time.

But, I"m not there yet. I'm still in the "are you sure you should do this" stage. I've never spent time in DC that I wasn't working. I'm so excited to see the city at night...I love the lights against the sky I know so well. The people watching will be wonderful, and I do so enjoy that. And I get to see a friend who is quite lovely. And beyond all those great swell things, there's Eddie...and as my friend Michael would tell you, Eddie Rules!

So, I'll be fine. I'm sure I will be.

More on first date night...

The arrival of the boy...

A blessed union. (Don't you LOVE those blue flowers???)

A brief chat in the doorway.

To check out LEslie's pictures...which are at times a little ethereal - cool, go here

What a lot of fun we had!

It was "first date" night for Trinity's themed Tuesday night dinner. And we posed at the old house on his property. I cannot begin to tell you how much fun we had. Next Tuesday, Leslie's theme is the Beatniks. All black and big makeup...so excited!


Me and Miss Leslie on the front porch in a "Boop" pose.

Ghost girl at the window.

Leslie and Trinity with the best wallpaper!!

Leslie...so so gorgeous for "first date" night! She said this was a replica outfit of one her mom wore in the 50's. (Sorry I didn't get her flipped upright...still can't figure these uploading things out!)

This was my favorite picture of Trin and Leslie...but it turned out dark! Dammit! Check the shoes out though!!

First date night

Well, I have to give you a preview of the night ahead. It's now Tuesday night dinner. And last week I began a crazy addition with the new camera doing action shots in odd ensembles. Tonight is Trinity's dinner night. His theme is "first date", and he is cooking from the cookbook I gave him for his birthday "Skinny Cooks CAn't Be Trusted" by Monique. I will probably make the onion pie, some smoked trout dip...not sure what else. We are supposed to treat this like a first date meal. He asked me to bring my camera and we'll do a "shoot" at the dilapidated house on his property. I suggested old timey first date shots, and I don't have an old timey dress (which makes me sad...LEslie probably may have one) but thought we could do some chaste scenes on the front porch.

Oh, the silly things one looks forward to! Check back later...hopefully I'll get some good fun shots to share with you!

So, what comes around...

I rode my new bike today on the dirt road. It's more hilly than when I walk it, and tough uphill to the fudge factory. This should be my inspiration, but I can honestly tell you that I have been there twice in my life and that was to buy a friend goodies. I'm not so into the stuff myself.

I love right now that even 80 degrees feels cool and spring-like. I love that 48 this evening was just enough for a jacket as I whizzed past the stream, the church, the black cow grazing. I love that the tree frogs are singing nightly as dusk falls and turns the fields green blue. I love the silence, and sometimes the voices far away, enjoying the evening as much as I do, but not with me.

I stand back from life a good bit. And I often wonder if that's okay. Because I truly love the people that I love, but I don't say it all the time. I am quiet about it. There are times when thoughts of certain people just make me so joyful and I feel everything that they mean to me. And other times when I am so far from that. And I don't want that to be because I am afraid, or too cautious. If it is because I am me, that that will be fine thank you. But, if it is because I am not doing the work I need to, then I am disappointed in me. I can't yet get to the bottom of it. And the other part of this is that it's so damn difficult to understand why anyone does anything for me. And I feel guilt, huge overwhelming guilt about it. So, there is some lack of deserving there. And I am sure that's all tied together.

Is it really okay to be yourself, and what are the conditions?

The Dalai Lama for instance

I am always curious about humans set to inproportionate places by the society that idols them, or is just using them for personal entertainment, or believes something passionately about them. Reading an article this morning about the Dalai Lama and wondering what goes on inside his head over the fuss made about him. I guess he is different for me from others who might be seen as having similar placement, like the Pope, or the President, or Jay Leno or Cher. Mainly because he is enlightened. The whole idea of enlightenment being that you can't take yourself that damn seriously. So, does he wake to a daily chuckle, don his long flowing apparel and head out to his umbrella? I'm just not sure...and I'd love to have that conversation with him inside his head. Because otherwise, he would be too gentle and kind to speak his truth...which I imagine to be, "what the heck are you expecting of me? I'm a human." I don't think that less enlightened superstars suffer this, because they probably actually believe some bit of it too. I for one, am no good at being what I'm not. Which leads me to a story.

Yesterday a new couple of friends invited me out to dinner with other friends. They believe that I am shy and need to relax and enjoy myself more. And I can totally agree with that sometimes. My friend at work said, gooooooooo, it'll do you good to meet new folks. And so I did. And they were a hoot! I laughed a lot, and people watched my little heart out. But, it didn't make me jump up on a table, and I didn't add a lot to the conversation. But they all, four, insisted that they would pull me out of my reservation at some point down the road. Unlike the Dalai Lama, you can dress me up, give me props and send me out the door with the most supportive masses, but I cannot do the show. It's just not in me to even want to. I don't sit back thinking...wow, I wish I were that person (although they were all fabulous). I rather just sit back. I think they will ask me out again, and the realist in me feels like I need to say...you do realize that you're just getting the same booth corner quiet watching girl, right? Ask me to analyze anyone in the bar, and I can do it...but the rest of it is never gonna happen. Once people realize that they can't change you for the "better", do they lose faith? Do you just go along with the play until the curtain closes? Or do they really know all along that you're never gonna get it and they just enjoy messing with you? It could be any one of those or some combination...but I'm just not enlightened enough to figure out which.

Nothing much...

The air is different today...and if I were a girl without allergies, I believe the wind might be scented. I catch a whiff of something idyllic every so often when my nasal passages clear enough to bring oxygen all the way into my brain.

I got off of work today and stopped by the garden and planted onion sets. I have no idea really why they call them "sets" because they are singles and I didn't count them, but they aren't priced as a set. Someone will know this answer...share it, if you do. Anyway...it was so therapeutic to drop by the garden after work. Even though I went in late today...it was a kinda stressed out day. Not bad stress, just stress. And the unwinding of putting your feet in red mud and hacking at the earth and then nestling baby plants into it...well, pretty darn wonderful if you ask me.

This is the last brutal week...by that I mean seven day week at work. And I had planned to take a couple days off next week before my DC trip (going to visit a friend and we're going to see Eddie Izzard...I'm just so excited!) but it is not to be. There's too much to get done to have less than a four day week. So, maybe the week after, I think. Maybe.

I don't have any tall tales for you. I feel a bit content, oddly enough. Just satisfied. Not coming off the walls and not tearing at the walls, just content. And I really like that feeling. It's not full of expectation. It waits for nothing more and fears nothing less. It is being, which I think is our truest state. My truest state.

Well, I should wash the red mud off of me and try to get some rest. Big weekend ahead. And then, Eddie...counting the days!

Art for Thursday

I was out reading blogs this morning, and one of my blog friends reminded me of someone lovely, Camille Claudel. She was the student of the more famous Rodin (think, "thinker") but her work makes me gasp for its movement and beauty. To delight in a well put together slide show, go here .

Dirt Road Ponderings

I was thinking about picking a dandelion for wishing. And I did not. But, it made me consider what I would wish for at this moment. It is the end of a day off of work. A day that I met a dear friend for lunch. A day that I got to shop the good will and found two vintage scarf's and a pin to match one of them for 50 cents! A day where I packed up all my gardening tools and headed over to the boys' house to work my end of the garden. I should have made a picture...but it's only dirt so far...with a tiny sign made on an interesting piece of wood that names my garden. I also pull twine to mark rows as I will forget where they are if I do not. I planted a slim jim wrapper on the boys' side just for fun. I worked for a couple hours, part of that sunny and then getting pretty cool. And I came home to soup and salad and leftover malted milk balls from my lunch trip to the candy store (Angela is by far the most food decadent person I know...she feels absolutely NO GUILT in saying, "do you want to go to the candy store???" and I LOVE that about her.) I tried for the first time popcorn jelly belly beans...and it was the strangest experience! They do taste exactly like it. And I found myself thinking...does one eat jelly beans to not eat popcorn, or eat popcorn to not eat jelly beans? Of course, the ever-lasting calorie mind that I can never seem to shake. I tried to watch a terrible movie...but I could not...so back it goes to Netflix. And then I took my walk with the dog and now two cats, since Magi has decided to be a walker like the rest of us. He is the youngest of us and the biggest lolly-gagger, so we end up stopping to call for him. And it was at one of these times, on the dirt road, that I thought about wishes. While the soft air caressed my face, and I watched the kitty tales bouncing up the road, and felt the tug of the blue dog leash in my hand (Bently always wants to be in front of all of us)...I realized that I would wish right then for another day like this one. And wow! Because my life has not been about wishing for more days, but more often wishing for less. I've crossed a milestone on the dandelion banked dirt road, and I'm pretty sure that the dirt road knew that would happen all along.

Fade to Charlie's Angels gone very

very bad. (Action shot)

Tuesday Night Dinner

Josh climbing walls

Trinity with Hat & Sunglasses

Fair Leslie, Josh-u-a and Trinity major

It's a new night for dinner in these parts. Leslie could no longer make it for Monday night dinner, so tonight we celebrated our first Tuesday night dinner here. I do not have photos of the food, but it was Polynesian fare and quite tasty. We added one fun/funny thing...which was a theme photo segment...I so love this new camera. Although I don't do it justice (yet) I just have a blast using it to capture all the moments. Anyhow...here is the fruit of our labors.

For Kari

Thank you...

for reading my blog and saying such amazing things.
for loving all kitties and Shaddy in particular.
for being beautiful, smart and funny and way too good for all the local men we know.
for being a member of the Fab 5
for loving your parents to pieces.
for driving and spending money on gas to meet me in Christiansburg (I know that it was difficult to fit into your sensible mind's eye).
for being dear and kind and gentle.
for being sarcastic and making me laugh buckets.
for making breakfast casseroles.
for having great long chairs with ottomans.
for helping me shop for furniture.
for loving the facts of life two hour movie as much as I do.
for having a huge crush on Eddie in October Road because he is gorgeous and loves a curvy girl.
for having a best friend who is a hawt singer in a rock and roll band.
for lemonades always easily drawn from your refridgerator.
for being able to run your own show.
for your willingness to write down directions for me EVERY time I hit your side of town.
for putting up with me being me.
for not tolerating people behaving badly.
for reminding me that I work for a family-based company and exactly what that means.
for making time to meet me for lunch any time I travel through the city.
for asking about the spotted dog, even though I know you are only truly interested in the cats.
for saying "noooo, girrrrrrrrrl" when I pick up something horrible on a shop along.
for donating money to abused horses and now kitty food every month at the shelter.
for having a great aunt, who reads books that I love too.
for sharing blooming onions at outback.
for shopping cheap outlet stores with me, when we both know you are a belk or macy's girl at heart.
for every molecule of who you are.
for every minute of your friendship.
You are cherished goods, my lovely friend.

No harmful intent

Sometimes I want to put my ear to the ground and see what MOther EArth is telling me. It's always at inopportune times, because I would do it in my yard, or the dirt road, or a nearby field or hollow. But, it usually occurs to me just as the crowd enters the room, or as someone asks me a question that I have no clue how to answer because I realize that it means one thing to the questioner and something totally different to me. It's those times, that I want to lay my head against the concrete and listen for the breathful answer of God, or Mother Nature or the Grand PoohBah. It's realizing that I cannot do that (without A. being frowned upon or B. having to explain myself) that makes me buy back into the mainstream moment. And that is exactly where I don't want to be. Or want to be less. Because let's face it...one must liver (that was a faux pas, but now I kinda like it) there for most of life. So, less. I want less liver and more life.

Of course, I don't know where that puts me. Because there are times when I could stand the liver for a while....just to put something different in my head, jostle thoughts that have grown stagnant, or step out of my box. Someone said to me today..."you are just.................too reserved." I've always thought "careful" but that's the sweet answer. Reserved also means cold, also means stone-like, also means aloof. And this person didn't mean it the way she said it...but again, I see it the way it falls out of the parted lips, ready to be an insult but unwilling to cause pain.

YOu cannot explain yourself in a couple minutes and maybe you can never explain yourself...which is why a load of folks believe that you don't have to. And I haven't reconciled that yet. When someone gives me their thoughts on my behavior, and they aren't being angry, or judgemental or coercive...I feel like I owe them credibility. It was a true enough statement from someone who doesn't suffer my weakness with small talk, common language (meaning common in terms of general, not common in terms of banal) or fear of people. But, it gave me a composite from someone who was paying attention, and I take it to heart in the most thankful way. Because it seems true that the way the world is anymore...we barely see one another, much less offer tidbits of advice. And this person did not offer advice (had she of done so, I may have discounted her comment completely)...she just pointed something out. I'll overthink it TO BE SURE, because I do that type thing. But that sliver of insight has been fodder for the evening muse.

Breakfast Muffin-A new recipe from my head

Okay...I am better today. I made muffins this morning. I have been in a muffin state of mind lately...which is that idea that you can throw a lot of crazy ingredients into a muffin an come out with a wonderful compilation. Well, most of the time anyway. They turned out well, I think. All types of surprising flavors nestled in there. Here's what I did:

2 cups flour

1/2 cup sugar

1 T baking powder

1 tsp salt

1/4 cup flax seed (because it is a new favorite thing to add)

mix around and make a well for wet ingredients.

A good couple dashes of garlic salt with parsley

Just a dash of red pepper flakes

In another bowl, mix

one egg beaten

1 cup milk (I used almond milk...fewer calories and gives it a nutty twist)

1/3 cup vegetable oil

Add the wet to the dry and before mixing, add

3/4 cup cooked sausage that has been seperated into small pieces (I used a fork and just mashed it up)

2 scrambled eggs (again cut into little pieces so that they will distribute well in the muffin)

1/2 cup shredded cheese

1 T creamy cheese

Mix, mix, mix...not forever, just till it's blended.

Pour into muffin pan--I made 6 giant muffins, as I only have that kind of pan.

Bake (I'm not sure how long, I just watch to see when tops are starting to get brown) and take out of oven when browned a bit. At this point I added a bit o' shredded cheese to the top just for visual candy and popped them back into the oven. Just for a minute. Grab them out, give a minute for cooling, have a muffin!

I like them...get some spicy flavors, some sweet cheesy flavors, some nuttiness. They are very filling! I'll take one by to my friend Leslie...she is my taster on the outside.

In the thick of it.

It's been a hard day. One of those where I cannot wait to get out of work, but feel guilty leaving. I don't want to compare myself to one more person and fail miserably at being as good, as beneficial, as competent as the other. I have to get over that mess, I know it. But, damn it is so difficult for me. Sometimes everything about me stinks. I mean I feel like I am waving a flag that says loser sometimes. And yet, here's my reality...I prefer the losers. The folks who seem to have it together give me the heebie jeebies. Unfortunately I work with most of that population. And I fall short, not literally because at 5'11", I am as tall as most and taller than some. I fall short in the have it together, I'm so smart, pretty, engaging, fluttery, and mysterious categories of existence. And I hate feeling that way.

The second thing I hate is writing this. I'd rather write about the things that I am thankful for...but some days, I just feel like I want to claw the walls down to escape EVERYTHING. My own skin. As invested as I can feel in that emotion, not once have I been able to part the seams and be gone. I guess that's the afterlife. But, damned if sometimes I have no idea how to get there. I am stuck in this figurethisshitout life and just plain raw with it sometimes.

I think that I forget how to be in my own realm sometimes. That probably sounds crazy, but it's the best way that I can explain it. I just move forward on automachine a lot of the time...because frankly, I can often barely stand to be in the middle of everything. And my job is the middle of everything. So, I zone out and I do it. But, somewhere in that process I lose myself completely. And it's almost like I wake up scared and wired wondering where I have gotten to and why there are all these people around me.

I don't know. I'm good at it. Good at doing what I have to do. Good at denying my internal dialogue and joining the crowd when necessary. I think I just take it too far, stay at it too long or something. I'm so different from the people around me. I know that we all are, but some of us are better at faking it.

And unlike Sally in her fateful scene across from Mr. Crystal...today was not my best performance.

Brassy Southern Cozy

How I spend my time is often measured by the moments when the inner chamber door of my heart opens and gratitude pours out of it like water from a break in the dam. There are a very few people who can cause this to occur. That point where you are just sitting, and all of a sudden, or slowly and surely, you begin to experience every essence of what is around you. How the sun feels through the restaurant window, how the food tastes, the hum of computers, the chit-chat of other patrons, footsteps across the wood floors, ice chinking against the glass. All these things come to a pitch and you look across from you and see a friend. And more than that, someone that God has given you. For the moment, the hour or the day. I get giddy inside, and all sorts of amazed thoughts bubble up inside of me. For just that moment, I get it. I realize that I was supposed to be here, for this, across from this person, realizing how important they are. Knowing that every conversation we've had has become part of me, part of what I know about the world and life. Comprehending that I have shared space with someone who is so significant and necessary to my life and habitat. The next instant, I see how fleeting it all is, how fragile. And I wish for the moments to stretch out, and they do. Just far enough for me to really see them, jot them down in my memory and know that I will re-live them someday when I need to, I will remember them when the time comes.

If I count them up, there will never have been enough days with my friend Ruth Jean. I won't know enough about the birds that she has loved, or the beautiful baked items that she has created or the walks she made in the woods around her childhood home. I won't see her wicked grin or sparkling eyes enough to render in them the fine details of wisdom and creative genius that dwell there. There won't be enough times of hearing her laugh, or listening to her speak of loved ones. There won't be a crossword puzzle that doesn't paint for me the picture of her blonde hair bent over the page, pen scurrying away with black printed letters put neatly into numbered spaces. I'll not know enough times that she chose carefully words that she felt mattered, or made wonderful outbursts of frivolity or humorous tales.

There are people that you know this about, pretty much as soon as you meet them. And you wonder why it seems that they will never quite know this about themselves. There is a shelf in my heart that belongs to my friend and on it rests the most precious collection. Today, I've added a few more things. In these myriad ways, my cup runneth over.

The way the day closes around here

Pastoral
the wind laying grass down
the field mice scurry
lawn chair overturned
and I scan the horizon.

Backwards daffodils
leaning away from the breeze
nearly touching the still hard earth
baring their bloom to the chill
the wind stops silent.

Transluscent the way that
skin can be in the sun,
I carve an onion for cooking,
a savory plan for salmon
in my gourmet magazine.

The daylight dwindles,
evening sounds and cats' calling.
The rabbit thumps around
the spotted dog is anxious,
it's supper time on Concord.

April passing

I attended a funeral today. Not someone I know well, but the son of someone that I know (and work with sometimes). My boss asked me to go with her, and so I did. I'm not normally the funeral type. I did not grow up learning the etiquette and therefore am poor at it. I always ask friends of friends "should I go?" and they say no when they could mean "what are you thinking, of course!" or they could mean "are you really that stupid????" or they could mean "no". And since I am basically an honest person, I take them at their response.

This wasn't the norm...a man younger than me. Leaving a wife and young child, a mother father and sister, a grandmother and many friends. He took his own life. And I understand that, but I never ever understand that. Because it leaves everyone in your life asking themselves questions about what they might have said, done or acted differently. I know I've written about this before. I didn't think I would revisit it this soon. Life surprises you.

It was the saddest place. And I pick up emotion from others. I am super-sensitive in that way. I have to be careful because it can overwhelm me. When I walked through the doors, the grief hit me like a wall. And there were so many tears, so much unrest about this young man. I think his mama is one of the best folks I've yet known. I can't imagine the pain she is suffering. Just seeing her lean against her husband took my breath away.

We are all so fragile, and I forget that sometimes. Too often. I don't know that Damon's path could have been changed. But he's made me remember to pay attention to how I consider the people in my life that might be hurting or scared or melting away inside. Stop and listen to really hear the story. It was a pretty sad afternoon.

S U N D A Y

It's Sunday morning, and you might not know this about me...but Sunday is my favorite day. I don't think it's a God thing, although I am a person of faith. It's more about how I translate the world on Sundays. Feels quiet, open, ready to be any kind of day at all. The weekdays are work days. Saturday always feels like a fun day because it is the first day off and it has another following it! But, Sunday is like a pause and that breath that I imagine Sunday being feels like endless possibility for rest, or laundry or a visit, matinee, long walk, play with kitties, gardening, reading, writing, whatever. It's just a great day to me and pretty much always has been.

I'm juggling all these new thoughts lately about who I am, could be, might become. My agenda is about self-confidence and for now that is really exciting. Because it's about allowing everything...even the bad stuff. I see that down the road, there will be curtailing, making a plan to exorcise some of the unnecessary behavior...but right now, it's just about acknowledging. Almost like a nod to self and I love it...because basically I have never done it before. Or not in this fashion that feels free and supportive.

Last week was my mama's birthday. I haven't spoken to her in 11 years. I passed by the day barely realizing that it belonged to her. I do hope that her life is good. I do want her to be happy and healthy and loved. I just have my own soul at heart. And I love her where she is, and never want her closer. She placed some horrors inside of me that I can't seem to shake. But, I suspect that she was always ill, and what she put in me was what she had to purge of her own. I know she did the best that she could, because I think we all do.

There's another thing you can do on Sunday...reflect. Now, I think I'll get active! Time to throw the dog bed in the washer. Enjoy your Sunday!

A walkabout

Following kitties at play. Banjo spying her brother. He doesn't care though, if she does see him first, he will still pounce, she will still hiss and then smack him. And this is the way that it goes.

Sitting by the pond again. It's so warm but overcast and the trees still look wintry bare. I thought about telling you I was in Africa and this an elephant's foot. It's close right? I love seeing the roots of things.

Brother Magi. He's so so handsome, I just can't keep my camera away from him. :)

A bit of bud break. At the winery we are worried about Chardonnay. Last year this same thing happened, bud break and then a heavy frost. It took the 2007 vintage from the state of Virginia. We are all thinking and not saying, "oh no...not again."

Too much Austen

I believe in love.



I'm not sure why. It's never shown me much.

The hours of my life pass and pass and pass, and love laughs from the box seats. It tickles the air around me, and makes passage of my auditory canal. But, it doesn't confront me or pin me in a corner to ask why I avoid it. To question the content of my soul. To point out the tiny agonies of being missed by such a rapturous opportunity.

It lies on the fringes of me. And at times I feel to proud to summon it, or offer it my hand. Just the reason, love ponders, to leave me alone. Pride is not love, is useless emotion...like fear, which I feel is the real instigator when it comes to my shun.

At an impasse maybe, we two. And I wager that love will win. Because it has before. There are stories of it. I have read them, three or four.

And although I am wary of it. A certain folly feels almost ticklish. Like the lightest exhalation on the dandelion petal, or the whisper of a beetle's flight home. It is tantalizing...

this thought of losing.

A Plea to Cease

Tonight (!) be sure not to miss America's Top MOdel, where they'll be "fighting it out" with what looks to me like some goosedown pillows. Now, I don't know about you...but I've seen girl's fight before and it's never fluffy. My point is...

Do you want to put your finger as far down your throat as I do over "reality" television?? First of all, what is reality about a top model? They are stick figures who spend hours/days/weeks/years on makeup and hair that someone else helps them to succeed on and make endless amounts of money for being gorgeous. How many of you have that experience on a daily basis? Secondly, if you are fighting it out for poor Paul Peters in elementary school, you still got a little bloody. But, these girls are fighting it out for money or a crown or a title or their picture on a magazine and they're picking up a pillow? Not real. And if so, go meet some Long Island girls...because I'ma gonna tell ya, that those girls can break you up badly and leave not one mark on themselves at the end of it. I've seen 'em, I've shared offices with them. It is the fartherest thing from pretty, but mindboggling amazing it is nothing short of.

But, the truth for me is this...I want to watch the shows that are either based on fact (PBS, Documentaries and the like) or shows that are written by wonderful creative writers who want to make me laugh, cry or dreamy over characters that could only be born of imagination.

If I had a vote it would be to lose the reality tv, because it is anything but real and the concepts are way less than imaginative every time. If we are out of ideas, let's start playing DVD's of the old stuff.

Celestial abodes

There are times when I find great comfort from a vision. You know how folks tell you to visualize your life, your intentions? A friend "persuaded" me to come home with the video tape of the SECRET, and I will share my thoughts with you once I see it. I will say that I threw the book away after 5 pages. I don't know that I have ever been so fiercely put off as to throw away a brand new book, and this one was a gift from a very good friend. So, I was not loving the book. And it felt like a piece of propaganda to me. They all are...I do realize this, but some folks actually believe in it before they try to sell it. This book felt to me like a sell first. Like someone sat down and said how do I sell a book, cd, audio, lecture series, etc, etc. And came up with this book. My friend says that the video is much different, she has read/seen both. I am critical, but my friend is gushing over it, so I will do it if only to share an experience with her.

So, visualization. Which I do believe in, by the way. I think that you can see life through a rosy pair of spectacles or you can mark it off day by day tallied in the mud. But, I've not done a lot with visualization. It can be too hokey pokey for me...and if you knew me, that would mean more. I am so into growth and spiritual change, that it's hard to scare me off, or make me the skeptic.

To get to my point, one of the only visualization projects that I have ever enjoyed came to me while sitting on a hay wagon in the field one evening when I lived on Round Meadow. I envisioned myself living on a star. I "built" a home there, I had books that I loved, my animal friends and a tiny paper cup connecting me to the folks that I love back here on earth. Removed from the stress of my life, or the need to find a mate, make more money, grow my own food, balance tires, meet deadlines...well, it was more than heavenly. As far away as I am sure I would be on that not very bright star that I chose to live on...the worldly things are no longer my concern. It brought a new element to star-gazing, and now when I find myself at it, I search for my star and think of myself there.

A Dedication to the dirt road

My dearest friend dedicated a song to me and this blog. She found it on a cd by Lucinda Williams and gave me the whole cd. If I knew how, I would link it here. I always think it's funny how people think of you when you aren't around and they have no reason to think of you at all. It is a gift of abundance that exceeds words. And I love it when it happens and I get to find out. Here are a few of the lyrics.

Lucinda Williams: "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road"

Car wheels on a gravel road
Low hum of voices in the front seat
Stories nobody knows
Got folks in Jackson we're going to meet
Car wheels on a gravel road
Cotton fields stretching miles and miles
Hank's voice on the radio
Telephone poles trees and wires fly on by
Car wheels on a gravel road.

Poem of the Day

I get a daily poem in my email box. Some of them I love, some not so much. This one spoke to me, as therapy has always been of consequence in my life. Kenneth Koch captures it this way.

To Psychoanalysis

I took the Lexington Avenue subway
To arrive at you in your glory days
Of the Nineteen Fifties
when we believed
That you could solve any problem
And I had nothing but disdain
For "self-analysis" "group analysis" "Jungian analysis"
"Adlerian analysis" the Karen Horney kind
All—other than you, pure Freudian type—
Despicable and never to be mine!
I would lie down according to your
Dictates but not go to sleep.
I would free-associate.
I would say whatever
Came into my head.
GreatTroops of animals floated through
And certain characters like Picasso and Einstein
Whatever came into my head or my heart
Through reading or thinking or talking
Came forward once again in you. I took voyages
Down deep unconscious rivers, fell through fields,
Cleft rocks, went on through hurricanes and volcanoes.
Ruined cities were as nothing to me
In my fantastic advancing.
I recovered epochs,
Gold of former ages that melted in my hands
And became toothpaste or hazy vanished citadels.
I dreamed
Exclusively for you.
I was told not to make important decisions.
This was perfect.
I never wanted to.
On the Har-Tru surface of my emotions
Your ideas sank in so I could play again.
But something was happening.
You gave me an ideal
Of conversation—entirely about me
But including almost everything else in the world.
But this wasn't poetry
it was something else.
After two years of spending time in you
Years in which
I gave my best thoughts to you
And always felt you infiltrating
and invigorating my feelings
Two years at five days a week,
I had to give you up.
It wasn't my idea.
"I think you are nearly through,"Dr. Loewenstein said.
"You seem much better."
But, Light!Comedy! Tragedy! Energy! Science! Balance! Breath!
I didn't want to leave you.
I cried. I sat up.I stood up. I lay back down. I sat. I said
But I still get sore throats and have hay fever"
And some day you are going to die.
We can't cure everything.
"Psychoanalysis!
I stood up like someone covered with light
As with paint, and said Thank you.
Thank you.
It was only one moment in a life,
my leaving you.
But once I walked out,
I could never think of anything seriously
For fifteen years
without also thinking of you.
Now what have we become?
You look the same,
but now you are a past You.
That's fifties clothing you're wearing.
You have some fifties ideas
Left—about sex, for example.
What shall we do?
Go walking?
We're liable to have a slightly frumpy look,
But probably no one will notice—
another something
I didn't know then.

Looking in from out.

I was thinking today how life comes in two view points...one is the up close in my head ultra personal and the other is stepping back watching it like television being in love with the characters ultra safe personal. And I wish I could do more of the second and less of the first. It seems like everyone at work is struggling with this. And I have had one up on them, since in the past three months I have worked hard at changing my perspective on things...mainly changing my perspective on me. But, also work. I decided one evening that I would no longer dream about work, which I did night after night. And once decided, there have been no more. But, it was a decision as strong as "I will go to work" or "I will take a shower" or "I will walk the dog". One of those decisions that you make without making it...most of the time. It is a routine rather than a choice. Of course, you can vary it...work early, or stay late, shower early or shower late, walk the dog right or left or now or in an hour. But, you will do them. This is the same mentality that I have been using for life and work and it's working. But, I still lose focus. I feel like the race lately is about losing focus. And I love it when I step outside myself for a couple minutes and view the scene that I am in. I have a great job...I LOVE the people I work for and with. I have fabulous friends, and spend time with them consistently enough to feel like a part of their life, and them a part of mine. I am happy with my animal family...it suits me, allows me a lot of freedom, but holds me accountable to a commitment about love and respect for other life forms.

When I step outside myself, it all looks not that bad. So, I want to get better at this, view from the side dish. It certainly gives the day's entree a totally different flavor.

(Sigh...)

I don't know.
Peace out.
Find your flavor.
Drive a batmobile.
Play a tamborine.
Wrestle noodles.
Frame medley.
Bask naked in a hidden cave.
Breathe from your toes up.
Agonize over nail polish.
Freak over fancy.
Bemuse the threat of irony.
Strap on frivolity.
Misconceive certain objects.
Banter about tightropes.
Soul search sloppy joes.
Feed some birds.
Watch water.
Preview conclusions.
Intend tomorrow.
Find it.
Cook crispy.
Align insanity.
Tolerate simplicity.
Capture and release.
Add to this....

A few good things and a couple bad ones.

This is the great thing that I read today about the new Miss Surrey, who is the first plus-size contestant to run for Miss England. I love Kate Harding...she is so sharp, so funny and so passionate about equality.

It's rainy today and I'm more nervous than usual. At work today, they said that the criminal roaming around this small area will have to come inside as it has gotten so cold and wet. Of course, Bentley is on overdrive...so he is barking and I am dousing lights and grabbing the phone. I don't like living this way...but think about the millions who do it every minute. I am so fortunate, and I do realize that. But tonight, scary is just scary.

I had my review today at work. Always a nerve-wrecking time for me. I do well, don't get me wrong. And you cannot sneak up on me with a complaint or criticism because I can analyze the hell out of everything I do, and I know where my weakness lies. It was a good review though. I heard a lot of good things. And the not-so-good but not bad things were exactly what I had on my goal list to focus on in the coming season. I came away from it feeling clear-headed, knowing that I am on track with the company and we are all seeing me move in the same direction. That's refreshing. And I usually don't HEAR the good things. I lay them aside and focus on the bad ones. Didn't do it so much this time. Kinda let a few of the good things seep in and keep close. I love it, but it can be such a stressful job and I forget sometimes that I can be really great at it. It was nice to be reminded.

I think that's all I have to share this evening. Leftovers for dinner...but marvelous iced mint tea. And rain...lots of rain. Let me know how you are....

Dirt Road Walking

The old church by the stream.

Spring showers...

Bring April lions! (roar, rrrrrrrroar)

Two best friends in black and white.

Breeze banter

It's evening and almost summer. Just sitting by the pond, and hearing children's voices across the way. Something going on at the elementary school. Car doors closing, dad's talking in stern voices, giggles. It's almost summer, not quite but close. And the days are longer and this evening just 20 minutes ago, I wore a t-shirt, but ten minutes ago, it changed to a jacket, and just now, I am keeping the jacket on in this house. Sun set. Changes the elements of everything.

Makes me wonder if I ever had secret dreams of a family, a husband, children. I don't think so. But, I always covered so much up with all my insecurities. Blankets of "should not", "could not", "no good at", "would like fail", etc, etc. So, that daily, I am faced with some new realization about myself. Which is fun, actually. Sortof amazing, to still be learning grand things about who you are...which I guess we all do if we are paying attention. But the painful things, the ideas that might later cause regret...those are what I worry over. When I decide to sit by the pond in the evening sun and worry.

The kitties are taking over. Running here and there. And Magi is fun to watch because he is patterning after BAnjo. And I think she likes it. Wouldn't admit it, but seems to, just a bit. The spotted dog is jealous...of their friendship, of my attention, and sad that he is too big and scary to be part of the playtime. I can't afford another dog. That's the truth of it. So, he will just have to live with it. We all live with one thing or another.

The criminal is still on the loose and when we turned to walk left...I heard gun shots, two. And turned right instead. I think it might be gobbler season, but I don't keep up. So, I was a bit scared...but the coast seems clear. I sat out for a good while and nothing more was shot.

I had crazy dreams about Gene Simmons last night. And we won't go there, because it ain't pretty. But, don't you wonder what is up with your dreams sometimes? I barely even liked the group. I can't imagine how he got into my psyche. They say you should put yourself in each character, or that is what is being played out...different parts of yourself in different characters. And sometimes that works out.

What's my point? I don't reckon I have one. But, if I had to pull one together, it would be this: the season's are changing again, and I'm not quite sure what's on my mind. It feels on the soft wind like something's coming, but I'm not sure what, or where, or when.