Wednesday, May 27, 2015

see you on the other side

Sometimes the only thing worthwhile is the cup of coffee in the morning and the glass of wine at night.

No, nothing wrong here. Just tired. A good night's sleep (which didn't happen last night) cures all kinds of minor complaints. Tomorrow I put the finishing touches on our next bike ride. Xenia to Yellow Springs. A nice ride, and I especially like oh, all of it!

On our last bike ride, she and I looked at the bike bridge that arches over Rt. 33. It would be a push to get over it without walking, so my parting comment was "see you on the other side." I've thought about that phrase, thinking it's a bit like what we'd say to each other when one of us is dying. See you on the other side. Not a whole lot different from contemplating the bridge. Effort, but the passage would take place one way or another. By the way...we both were able to pedal to the top. It was effort. But so what. 

Sunday, May 24, 2015

not much to say

I'll just say this...

I'm glad I don't live in a family where the parents hire a stripper to appear at their son's graduation party. And then I hear the stripper drove up to the house, saw the condition of the party goers, got back in her car and drove away. Wow. I'm glad I made the obligatory appearance early, ate some food, chatted with a couple of folks, and returned home.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

oofy stuff

I was at a party - celebrating the high school graduation of the son of  one of our neighbors. I don't speak much to the younger set living around me, mostly because I'm not good at sitting out in the evening discussing sports et al. But we all get along, so it's all good.

Anyway. One of the neighbors asked me to say "hi" to Mr. Denino. I corrected her by suggesting she can call him George. She responded with words to the effect that she wanted to respect us as the matriarch and patriarch of the neighborhood. Yes, we're certainly the oldest. But I suggested that if she wants to respect us, then respect our wishes to call us by our first names.

Oof. We're the old farts of the neighborhood. A generation older than all the others. Oof.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015


a magical day
clear skies
trees in early leaf
a bicycle path

the love of my life
he'll ride ahead
and always know where I am
keeping tabs on me
with his rear view mirror
counting the miles
noting and remembering the details

and my sister soul friend
new to bicycling
proclaims this as sacred

Sunday, May 17, 2015


A writing assignment on renewal and home...

Where is home for me?
Where do I go to renew my spirit?
Sure, my house, shared with my husband,
provides a place for rest and renewal
in a temporal kind of way.
And it is good.
Very, very good.

But sometimes "things" invade this house,
this shelter of roof and walls and favorite things
and the arms of my lover.
Things that generate sorrow,
or anger,
or fear,
or any number of other difficult feelings.
His arms
give me comfort and strength
while I ride out the storm.

My soul needs more, though.
And so I go out to the universe itself.
Out to where my understanding of  divinity resides.
Out there,
in here,
Because in the beginning...God.
Or the big bang. Same thing.
And in that beginning,
even if it wasn't the first beginning,
God created the universe.
Since there was no other "something" with which to create,
 God created the universe from Herself.
In fact, my mythology says the Goddess and the universe are the same thing.
Science informs us that all the subatomic particles
that exist today
were formed at the time of the big bang,
and I am made up of a portion of those particles.
So in one form or another
I was present
at the very beginning.

How does this renew my spirit?
It reminds me that I'm part of All That Is.
I am part of the Goddess.
And, since the universe,
or the Goddess (whichever mode you prefer)
is without boundary,
then wherever I am
I am in the center
because the center is all there is.

Here I am!
Part of the Goddess,
residing in the very center.
My current pain,
or sorrow,
or anger,
or jubilation,
or tenderness
are opportunities for the Goddess
to experience Herself
in the human form.

And so. While I experience those difficult things,
I also willingly offer them to the Goddess within me,
adding to the fullness and creation of the universe.
My home.

I remember who I am.
I am renewed.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

stormy weather

A powerful spring storm blew though yesterday; possible tornado in Pataskala. Not like the storms in the plains, of course, but damage is damage, regardless. Fortunately, no damage for us. But tomorrow's bike ride should probably be adjusted to accommodate any flooding.

The storm was good, though. It blew away the heat and humidity, and probably cleaned the air of pollen, at least temporarily. I mention this because it seems both weather related storms and emotionally charged storms both clear the air. Good.

As my son says, "fractals be".

Sunday, May 10, 2015

pain revisited

That familiar pain came for a visit again today. I've written about it before; the pain of feeling like I mean nothing to somebody I'd like to be close to. And again, I've had to accept that it is what it is.

But this time another voice joined the conversation, a voice of power. It reminded me of a quote, that it's none of my business what somebody thinks of me. True that. And besides, I don't really know what that person thinks - or doesn't think. I only know what I know based on my own perceptions.

But that voice of power...I was admonished to fill that hole I feel with a focused passion of doing what I love. Steeping myself so deep in that passion that I have no room for perceived hurts.

I can do that.
I should do that.
Thanks for the kick in the ass, muse.

Saturday, May 09, 2015


prom dresses
graduation gowns
graduation robes
wedding gowns

rites and apparel of passages

for the rest of our lives
we bumble around
doing the best we can
until our final passage
in our last bit of apparel
a burial shroud

and yet...

Friday, May 08, 2015

prom girl

I get at least one of these every year...

Prom girl comes in with dress and shoes. Dress must be hemmed.
Prom girl stands on the platform so I can mark her hem.
Prom girl then takes off her shoes, because for most of the prom
she will have kicked off her shoes.
Did I mention her shoes?
1.5" platform plus 4" heel.
And now the dress is all over the floor.

Dear prom girl; you get to decide when you want the perfect look. Either with shoes, or without.

Wednesday, May 06, 2015

turtle whisperer

Why did the turtle cross the road? Or did it?

We came across a turtle on the bike trail today. Me, being who I am, talked to it. He stuck his head out just a tiny bit, knowing there were big moving critters (us) nearby. But I complimented him (her?) on her beauty. She had lovely markings on the side of her head, so I asked her if she could show us more. And she did. She stretched her head and neck out as far as it could go, apparently, and showed us her beauty spots, the yellow and red ones. I thanked her, and we returned to our bicycles so she could return to her own adventure. That's all.

I wonder what a turtle blog would look like, and what she would say...

Monday, May 04, 2015


pain came flying in a couple of days ago
pain and anger and hurt
sometimes words hurt, but this time it was silence that hurt
information was not shared with me
by someone I care for
about something I care about
it wasn't malicious, just...thoughtless,
or so I assume

it spoke to me of this...that I don't matter to them, to her
yet when the silence was delivered, I was doing a favor for her,
because I care about her

unbalanced relationship, yes?
unreasonable expectations on my part?
and on her part?

well, it is what it is

I held the pain, quietly howled my hurt
and gave pain a voice that also spoke from my past
when I felt like I didn't matter to anybody
even to myself
at a time when I didn't recognize the pain
and just swallowed it

but not now

the pain has now receded
my eyes are more open than before

and new adventures await

Friday, May 01, 2015


Joy snuck in first thing this morning.

My 82 year old friend, caregiver, tired, cranky, my friend. We laugh together once in a while, have lunch together less often.

This morning we talked a bit, and next thing we knew, she decided to get out her bike, look it over, and bring it to my house so we can ride together on the local trail.


And then I looked at Lady Joy a little more closely, as she began to sing to me...

joy when you wake up in the morning
because it's better than not waking up

joy when you go to bed at night
because sliding under the blanket and closing your eyes
feels so good

bigger and deeper than happiness
sometimes even in the face of pain and sorrow
simply saying yes to life

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

there's no wrong way

We have another kind of bicycle adventure in the works. My very dear friend is now retired, has bought a bicycle, and loves riding as much as we do. So now we have to get her up to speed (actually, endurance) to ride with us on our longer journeys. She even bought a bike rack for her car! Wow!

She came over today and the two of us rode the kitty bench trail. It's a nine mile ride, and was the longest distance she'd attempted so far. We made a couple of stops to shake out our legs, and on the trail I cruised slowly so I wouldn't tire her out. Actually, that's rather nice to know I have to slow down for somebody else. With George, he has to slow down for me. It was enough of a ride for her.
But we'll keep doing this as long as it takes.

She was concerned that she was "slowing me down" and being a burden. No. You're not. For me, there's no wrong way to ride a bike. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


A day of contrasts.

We rode the Kokosing Gap bike trail today, and I soaked up the beauty of early spring. The air was still a bit chill, the sky was blue, and the cycling itself was divine.

And then, home, resting in front of the television, watching the news reports about the rioting in Baltimore. I am angry that the violent protestors are called thugs, but the powerful manipulators of our society, those that make the playing field grossly unfair and unsustainable to the poor, are not called thugs.

And the contrast between the righteous protestors and my own life dampens my joy. 

Monday, April 27, 2015


I suppose it's human nature to (sometimes) take definition of ourselves by what other people think of us. So in a perverted way we are mirrors for each other.

Yet when we are looking at imperfections in the reflections of ourselves in the mirrors of others, are they actually our imperfections? Or are they imperfections in mirrors?

Saturday, April 25, 2015


She brought me a dress that needed to be taken in. It had a zipper in a side seam, which makes taking in the seam more of a hassle. In addition, the dress had horizontal stripes, which must be lined up accurately along that seam. In addition, the stripes alternated as fabric and lace. It really doesn't get more complicated than that. At least there wasn't any bling on the dress.

First, the zipper must be removed. Carefully, especially difficult from the lace stripes. Then, the new seam must be pin marked. Next, the zipper must be pinned in place. Very carefully, being careful to not stretch the fabric, because that's when the stripes won't line up. Finally it was ready to sew. The first line was a basting stitch just to make sure I got all the alignments correct. That done, the serious sewing began. Sewing slowly, removing each pin as I got to it, carefully, carefully.

And then, done.

Except I forgot to check for enough bobbin thread. All those pins removed...argh!!

Starting all over again, measuring again, pin marking again, cursing my most boneheaded mistake I've made in a long time in my workroom.

Yet, if this is the worst problem I have today, it's nevertheless a good day. 

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

not as hard as chemo


It was cold. I didn't care. I wanted to ride my bike. So I studied the weather forecasts and cherry picked the best parts to convince myself and them that we could do this. I ignored that a high of 49 means it's more often colder. I ignored the fact that just because there isn't a wind advisory doesn't mean it isn't windy. And, I ignored the fact that my favorite weatherman said that maybe we'd even see a few snowflakes.

We drove to the Kokosing Gap trail, hoping to log at least 20 miles on it. that would be 10 miles in, have lunch, 10 miles back. Well, a little more than 3 miles in I stopped to take a couple of pictures. While stopped, we got a bit of rain. Then we got a bit of hail. then we turned around and rode back to the car. Note the gloves and ear warmers on my two companions!

Will I be trusted again to assess the weather forecasts? Who knows. but at least we have a baseline of what is acceptable...and what is not.

It was a great ride with lots of good conversation and laughs. I explained that if it's not as hard as chemo, then it's not too hard.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

what Peter said

If I look at human beings through the lens of evolution, and at the same time look through the lens of the "peter principle", then, well, I think we've reached our highest level of development, which is also one of incompetence.

I think I'm glad I'm as old as I am. When I die, there will be some who will feel sad for me. I, on the other hand, will feel sad for them because they have to continue to endure the incompetence of their chosen (and unchosen) rulers.

Sunday, April 19, 2015


I get a kick out of this photo; my brother, my hubby, and me. Of course, you can't see me. I'm very happy, maybe lucky, to have two such good men in my life. And, when you add our three sons, I've got a whole pocketful of good men in my life. Let's add in the grandson, approaching manhood.

What about women in my life? Well....I've got two daughters-in-law, a granddaughter, and possibly maybe probably another daughter-in-law in the wings.

Family. We don't get to pick our family, and in my youth I remember wishing sometimes for a different batch of family members. I'm guessing we all go through that.

Some people think we choose our family before we are born. If so, I chose well. 

Saturday, April 18, 2015

what next?

I'm not mentioning names, obviously.

A couple, both of us are friends with both of them.
And they are getting a divorce. 75 years old.

I understand their dilemma. It may be the best practical solution to a difficult situation. But, it's a hell of a way to finish out one's life. Pain all around.

Which makes me think of the old time traditional understanding of death. The pearly gates. We make an assessment of our lives, face our personal grief, profess our faith, and hopefully gain admittance to heaven. But what then? Do we forget who we were? Do we relinquish our memories, wipe our brains clean, and start all over again as "babies?" These were always such puzzles to me.

Not now, though. I don't know what happens next, if anything, and that's ok. I do know that much of what I "believed" was actually an accumulation of myths and stories, well intended, perhaps, but not actually the kind of truth I yearn to understand.

Truth. In my snarkiness, I sometimes, when considering close minded bigots, will say "You can't teach algebra to a goldfish. Stop trying to get them to think rationally."

Truth. Are more evolved beings, in their snarkiness, considering our failings, saying "You can't teach love to homo sapiens." ???

Friday, April 17, 2015

changing times

She is 80 years old or close to it. She is now caring for her husband, who is going down the altzheimer's hole. He is still at home, not terribly lost yet, but she is becoming less able to leave him alone except for a very short period of time. She is trapped and becoming angry. She loves him and doesn't want to put him in a home, but she is trapped, and she is angry anyway.  It's just the two of them, in a good sized house and a good sized yard. It's all on her, now.

Tough decisions are in her future. At least there are family members to lend a hand, though the closest ones are maybe 15 miles away. They aren't young, either.

It's just tough. But nothing is forever, right? Not the good times, not the bad times.

Monday, April 13, 2015

a good weekend

We traveled to Cincinnati to hear the barbershop quartet and chorus competition. George's chorus out sang the others, Steve's quartet qualified for international competition later this year. There are stories within those facts, and perhaps one day I'll write about them.

This time the simple journey to Cincinnati became a more complex and interesting journey as I lingered a bit on other folks' paths.

The woman who has been caregiver for her quadriplegic husband for twenty years.
Another woman shared with me her story of finding the love of her life.
And another, a friend. A journey of deep sorrow and spunky attitude, one who fully embraces the "mother bear" who protects her cubs. Even when they're grown.
And, my artist friend. A new friend. I don't know his sorrows, but I do know his art.

It was a good weekend.

Wednesday, April 08, 2015

family time

We've been down this road twice before. We've cared for both mothers until their time ran out in this particular incarnation. Are there other incarnations? I don't know. Maybe I hope so, but that's not the point of this small bit of writing.

Aunt Florence is 93 years old. She has no children; never did; she sees us as her children. She lives in a senior facility in another city, and she senses her time is running out. At least, she's now starting to feel old. Ya think? age 93?

We've done the search, and found a good place for her in our town, 15 minutes away from our house. But can we talk her into coming down here? She didn't say yes; she didn't say no. She cried a bit when she came to understand more deeply our love and concern for her. I know change isn't easy at here age. Hell. It isn't easy for me at my age!

So after some deep conversation and a good lunch, we had to drive two and a half hours back to our own home, giving her time to think things over.

I left her with my most powerful shot: When your time is upon you, do you want to face it alone, or do you want to face it with loving family members holding your hands?

I really hope she chooses family. 

Monday, April 06, 2015


today is the first day of something
I'm not sure what
but surely it's somebody's day one of something
maybe it's mine
and I've already forgotten?

it's also day #572 of somebody else's something
or other
not mine
I don't normally try to count that high.

life is good, even when it doesn't make sense
even when I don't make sense
but you're the one who actually came here to read it.....

Friday, April 03, 2015


Perhaps now, at last, I can relax. Got my bike ordered, and then helped my friend find the bike she wanted.

Buying a bike is a lot harder now than it was 50 years ago. I remember walking into Central Hardware, where bikes were sold. Men's or women's. Racer or not. adult or child size. And that was it. I bought the one on the floor and walked out with it. Nobody made sure it would fit. It did. If it could have fit better? I have no idea. I rode it for about 15 years. Then put it away as work and raising kids just took all the energy I had.

Now? Lord have MERCY!! So many sizes, functions, constructions. So much to learn so I could make good choices. Actually, that's a good thing. I couldn't ride a normal adult bike these days. So I will be getting a 26" 21 speed Townie. When I can't ride that, I'll have to go to a recumbent, and I'm not gonna do that.

A couple of salesmen told me a Townie is made for 10-15 mile rides at most, and in my mind, I was thinking it was something about the construction that might not be good for longer rides. Finally I asked what they meant by that. They said because the rider sits upright and isn't aerodynamic. I had a lot of fun standing on my toes so I could look one of them in the eye and state: I'm 70 years old and I've ridden my 3 speed Townie 40 miles.
And their eyes got big.
So take THAT, you whippersnapper!

But on a different level, this is pretty significant. It's been ten years since my cancer diagnosis, and when I see the oncologist in two months, he'll cut me loose. So this bike is a bit of an early "birthday" present. One evening I imagined that I have finally grown up and arrived. Healthy. With a 21 speed bike. 

Wednesday, March 25, 2015


Junior high spring concert. The grandson was in three of the four choral groups. Two of the three groups were typical junior high conglomerations of kids; some still pre-adolescent, some had reached their adult height. A few were really out of control, most were pretty decent. I'm glad this is the last junior high spring vocal music concert I will ever have to attend.
Also: the sound system was terrible with the electronic piano way too loud, and the microphones were giving more feedback than the kids could possibly sing over.  On the other hand, I suspect an  overly loud piano and microphone feedback may have sounded better than junior high kids trying to sing harmonies.

Ok. Got that out of my system.

The grandson was superb. He comes from musical families on both sides, both vocal and instrumental. He's sung with adult men's champion choruses. Very very few other kids ever get that opportunity. And he knows it. His voice is deeper than his dad's, and he's 13 years old. He sings not only with his vocal chords, but with his eyes. He has presence. How could he not? Afterwards, people came up to him and said they imagine they'll eventually see him on Broadway.

He wants to be a music teacher. He'll be a good one. He shares his skills freely. He has the right blend of pride in doing something well, and the humility to recognize he's part of a group, and that teamwork matters.

I had goosebumps. I'm guessing I wasn't the only one.

spring's arrival

Spring arrives in my world. Lightning punches through my closed eyelids, thunder roars outside my bedroom window. The sound of rain is soothing, and would sing me back to sleep if the early morning wake up call didn't bring to my attention a full bladder. Damn.
My day begins.

Thursday, March 19, 2015


He finished the taxes.
I finished a wall hanging.
That's how we celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary.
It's all we need.
We still have each other.
Every day is special.
Every day is a celebration.
The only moment is this moment.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015


It takes him several days to do the income tax report on Turbotax. You know the drill...collecting all the forms, tallying things that need to be tallied, complaining to me about how I keep my business records.

And then. Tonight. Almost done. Every single damned number entry turned to zero. All the work lost.  About the only good thing about this? At least he isn't starting the taxes in the second week of April.


Monday, March 16, 2015

a good day

Some days are all-around good days. Our firstborn celebrated his birthday, today was the first warm day of the year, we took our first bike ride. Planet Earth provided us with a spectacular sunset show (to be shown at some later day).

And I forgot about a bridal appointment. I forgot to look on my calendar, and got back from the bike ride to a phone message that I wasn't home. Oops. But she had just called, and was willing to turn around and come back. She was ok with it, and she's just the kind of bride I most like working with. Practical. I read a report that the average wedding costs $30,000 these days. That is not practical. On the other hand, I'd want to know more about the population that was surveyed to compile this particular figure.

Sunday, March 15, 2015


Journey to the cross.
That's what the sign in front of the church proclaimed.

I won't "journey to the cross."
Not when the cross stands for my sinfulness.
Not when the cross stands for a mythical god requiring a blood sacrifice
for what?
Saved from what?
My sinfulness?
Who said I was such a sinful sack of shit, that the creator of the universe had to magically appear as a human who would have to shed his own blood so that I wouldn't disappear into nothingness, or burn forever in hell?

I journey.
Along the way, I learn to fix what needs fixing, both inwardly and outwardly.
Along the way, I learn to be proud of who I am and what I can do.
Along the way, I learn to recognize my limitations.
Along the way, I learn to recognize both the glories and limitations of all of us.
Along the way, I learn to love.
That's more than good enough for me.

Friday, March 13, 2015

habitual gripe

The power of habits...

I've been blogging since 2005. Ten years. With precious few exceptions I've always included a photo, usually not even related to the post. And now I can't. My computer, thus my vast store of photo files, is not available until George is done doing something or other. Something about transferring all my files from one device to another. After 24 hours using one program that was running way too slowly, he quit it and is now using another program. It's been another 24 hours, and though most of the transfer is complete, it still looks like several more hours of waiting.

I'm so lonely for my photos, for Photoshop, Lightroom, and InDesign. Withdrawal sucks.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

last person

The Last Man on Earth is a new humorous sitcom on television. I watch how this last man conducts his days and wonder what I would do if I were the last person on earth. Somehow this is very disconcerting, because the things I most enjoy doing feel like dust in my mouth if I were indeed that last person. Food for thought as I evaluate those things I enjoy and why I enjoy them.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015


Try to imagine crossing the Atlantic in a sailing vessel at the time of our country's war for independence. Weeks of same old same old, broken up only by the occasional storm. A storm, of course, that could sink the ship. And then, finally, land is spotted. Just a couple more days...

For me, I've spotted the end of my own adventure. June. The month of June, in which I make one last trip to the oncologist, who will proclaim me cured. Ten years of journey. Fact is, I haven't been much concerned about the "end" of this particular journey. I live each day in the present moment.

But it has a purpose, in any case. The book I've been writing and compiling of my thoughts, meanderings, complaints, visions, and random observations about my cancer journey now has an end point. June. This book, probably the only book I'll ever write, has been chugging along, and I haven't had a clear sense of how to end it. But now I do. June. 

Monday, March 09, 2015


be still and listen to the song of the town
love talk
gossip, snores, cries, sniffles, murmurs, singing, shouts
sounds written on the wind
a symphony

Sunday, March 08, 2015

summoned to write

The dream. I was a teacher again. I gave the students the assignment to spend the entire period writing about a book I knew they had just read. It felt good knowing they could write at length; there was so much to write about.

And then my muse whispered in my heart: write. Write about anything. Any object. Any and every object is connected to everything else in the universe. There are so many stories embedded in every object.

to be continued...(obviously)

Saturday, March 07, 2015


Fifty years ago Selma Alabama made national,  probably international news as they marched over the bridge. Bloody Sunday. I was 21 years old, and had no idea. Oh, I may have seen something about it in the newspaper headlines, but that was about it. I was in college, committed to my relationship with the man I would marry, and that was about it. Clueless. Besides, my parents thought MLK was a communist, and there wasn't much I could say, still living at home. Oh, I was such a good girl...

At least now, as I've grown up and learned a few things, I could watch our first black President give an inspiring speech at that bridge. At least I can learn the history. At least I can wipe a few tears from my eyes as I finally understand the importance of that day. And of this day.

Thursday, March 05, 2015

wedding thoughts

One of my mannequins is wearing a wedding dress so I can hem it. I've worked on a lot of wedding dresses over the years; vintage, expensive silk, forgettable fluff, Disney princess styles, even a backless number for a lady of the night. But this one is my favorite. Why? Partly because it's relatively simple, but mostly because the bride who will wear it has a mature head on her shoulders.
Bustle the train? No, she says. Cut off the train. I'm getting married in my parent's back yard. That's what started the conversation. Just a couple of bridesmaids, a simple ceremony in the backyard, a small gathering indoors afterwards. Why spend more? And I agree wholeheartedly. I'm glad to fuss over the fussy gowns being worn by fussy brides who want their Cinderella moment. They pay well, and they get good value from me. This bride, though, is a cut above. I like that. A lot. And yes, I've told her. 

Wednesday, March 04, 2015

chemo brain

I subscribe to, which is a huge collection of quality tutorials in all the Adobe products I have (and lots that I don't have). A little over a year ago I had to quit tutorials presented by one particular teacher because I couldn't keep up with her. I began to watch them again, and now she's not hard to follow.

Chemo brain. My oncologist said it might take ten years to clear my brain. I was diagnosed almost ten years ago. 

Monday, March 02, 2015


The internet can be so damned addictive, thus dangerous. For example; I was reading the latest weather report and projections for the next few days. Not that I was making plans to be anywhere in particular, but just because weather is interesting. Then, I thought I would have liked studying meteorology, maybe even becoming a meteorologist. But I've thought that of a lot of other things, too.
graphic design
any and all science fields
many kinds of art
on and on and on

Thus, I can spend all day learning these things, even if it's too late in life to become a professional in any one of those fields. Learning stuff is just a lot of, well, fun isn't quite the word. Satisfying, maybe. It scratches the curiosity itch.

And then another thought creeps in. I could spend all day absorbing the knowledge and beauty that others have shared without sharing any of my own. A kind of passivity. Well, that's not good. So I share what I have. My photos, my words, my visions, my thoughts. On my blog. Sometimes on Facebook. Maybe someday I'll actually finish the book I'm working on; a couple of pages a day.

Speaking of books. I've been in houses where there are no books to be seen. How sad. 

Saturday, February 28, 2015

this and that

There is a direct correlation between the "color" of my dreams and whether or not I have taken the shackles off my creative muse.

Another major snow storm is bearing down on us tonight. Tomorrow morning will be both beautiful and treacherous. We will obviously stay indoors. I look forward to seeing the male cardinal sitting at the tip of a branch on the spruce, looking almost as though he were auditioning to be a Christmas tree ornament. 

Friday, February 27, 2015

Friday night meanderings

I am a happy hermit. Happy? Pretty much all the time. Hermit? Well, most of the time. But it's time, now, to make some manner of change.

I had three close friends. Very close. One died. She was 75, and her passage was very easy for her.
Another kinda went off the deep end. Personal troubles branched out to family troubles. She needed professional help, and I could not step in as a substitute for professional help. It was causing me much stress, and twice, now, I was diagnosed with cancer during times of high stress.

Now I'm down to one friend, and I will not burden her with all of my non-hermit needs, though "all" is actually very little.

On a totally different thread, my son introduced me to the UU church. He knows I'm allergic to Sunday morning rituals of any color; he's the same. And yet...
So I looked into it. Maybe not a bad idea, even if only for the sake of community and touching base with other thoughtful human beings. We'll see. Every weekend, lately, there's a new snowstorm system that keeps us hunkered down in the house.

Speaking of human beings, RIP Leonard Nimoy. I loved you as Spock; I loved your wide ranging unscripted creativity, too. 

Thursday, February 26, 2015


A friend asked me about my recent (and ongoing) creative surge. My answer? Fear, for starters. I'm running out of time, considering all the ideas still awaiting birth from inside the womb of my heart/brain. These things don't materialize quickly. And one day I will breathe my last breath, and I don't want, with that breath, to be pissed that I played a game of internet solitaire instead of tending the birth of one of my creations.

Another friend has wild turkeys at her bird feeder. Why can't I have wild turkeys instead of starling mobsters? 

Monday, February 23, 2015

another cold day

The subzero cold rages outside; another record will be set, at least for this date. I don't remember how many records have been set so far this year.

And, my personal cold rages on. Oh well. At least at this stage of my life I can nap when I need to, which is fairly frequently. No, not complaining. There are a hell of a lot worse things than colds, some of which I've experienced.

The starling saga continues. The flock has pretty much disappeared, but one lone starling remains. I've been watching him. He has learned to perch vertically as woodpeckers do, and thus he, too, can get to the peanut butter. None of the others ever figured that out. Also, it takes a lot more effort on my part to scare him away. I'm not so quick to do that, now. He also sits and eats seeds in a more gentlemanly manner, much as the other birds do. So starlings can learn! He's big and hungry, but his lone presence doesn't scare away the other birds. As long as he doesn't revert to the herd behavior and simply trash the feeding stations, I'll let him stay. 

Saturday, February 21, 2015


The biggest snowfall of the season visited us today. It was beautiful. Still is. I looked out the window and there, on the ground by the bird feeders, was a hawk, munching on his lunch. Probably the red tail that hangs out in our neighborhood.

I read on Facebook from my "friends" who are complaining about this snow, perhaps all snow and cold. But you know what? My friends have warm clothes and warm houses. Some people don't have either. Can we keep some perspective here? SO WHAT if we have to change plans! At least we have plans; places to go and the means to get there, even if not on a snow day.

And that's enough snark from me tonight. I have a bad cold (as opposed to a good cold), and it has drained my patience. 

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

morning musing

Sometimes I think about the DNA pool that includes all human beings.
As I see the seemingly growing cancer of maliciousness and willful ignorance, I'm embarrassed to be recognizedf as part of this DNA pool.

On the other hand, if I weren't in it, the collective IQ of the pool would be lower...

Intelligence. A necessary burden.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

morning song


It's a lot of fun being a human being for a spell. I get to be so many different things, and sometimes all at the same time.

Today sister, wife, and mother take center stage. In all three "states" I'm feeling a bit of joy.
My brother still has his business.
My husband doesn't have cancer.
My sons are now all employed and have significant "others" in their lives.

Thanks be to the universe. Thanks be to them. Thanks be to me.
It's all one big giant thing, this manifestation of life and love. 

Sunday, February 15, 2015

the visit

I dreamed my brother came for a visit...
in his own personal flying saucer...
battery operated.

I wonder how many centuries will pass before personal flying saucers will become a reality.
On the other hand, I suspect homo sapiens will be extinct long before that, given our current practices.

But I can dream.