Scenes From A Slowmoving Train

2008-04-17T09:41:00.000-07:00

Please visit me here these days. SFASMT has been parked permanently at the train station.

2008-04-14T15:49:00.001-07:00

I'm thinking of taking a rest from blogging. I love it here but I'm feeling very unproductive. My friend Biene says I'm resting. There is so much on my mind that I need to think about that I'm going to just kick back for a while. I actually have lots I would like to do, including a challenge meme from Mary at Beadfluff . I won't be entirely away though. I will continue to keep up reading and staying in touch. I would miss everyone terribly if I just fell off the edge of the earth. I just don't have anything in me right now to share so I'm going to slip away from a while.

******************
Follow-up - later, after posting the above, I had a sort of epiphany. The reason for resting is really for regrouping and refocusing. I will probably still be posting here occasionally but I'll be spending most of my time at my In My Dreams blog. If my purpose for the next couple of years is to prepare for a reshaped reality, then I need to start acting like I am truly seeing myself so I can make my dreams come true.

Signs of Summer's Approach

2008-04-11T16:17:00.001-07:00

Benchmarkers

2008-04-10T11:53:00.000-07:00

This week marked a couple of different anniversaries for me. DH and I observed our 30th wedding anniversary on Tuesday and then yesterday I was honored for 20 years of service at the university where I work. I have to ask you, “WHERE does time go”?

We liked the idea of the Grand Canyon being our anniversary celebration so we earmarked that time as our special time. No other observances needed, just cards. Of course, I remembered the card BUT forgot to buy one for him. Typical. But, I made it up to him. (Glinting little grin happening here.)

Then yesterday the campus hosted the annual staff and faculty honors for time put in. I go to this event every five years. This was my 4th and marked 20 years. The nice thing about this particular benchmark is that I won't have to wait five more years. I'll only be waiting three years. I'll be retiring in 2 1/2 years and I'll be called back as a retiree. I LIKE that.

Also, this year they had two drawings for gift certificates. I never pay much attention to these because the last time my name was called was 20!!!! years ago when I first came to the campus. It was at some other event. How surprised was I when my name was called. I am now in possession of a $25 American Express gift check. So, how will I spend it? Hummm . . . Books? Yarn? Dinner with DH? Cash for my next road trip with Elaine? Well, whatever. It was a nice surprise and is presently being used as a bookmark in my current GOOD READ - The Confession of Fitzwilliam Darcy. For Jane Austen lovers, this is a lovely read. It's Pride and Prejudice from Darcy's point of view. Fun reading.

I find I'm slowing down in a lot of ways. Not much going on and I'm losing myself in reading, crocheting, and watching TV in the evenings (usually 2 and sometimes 3 all at once). No inspiration these days for writing, photography, or any sort of creative activity. Darn. I thought winter was over but unfortunately, the Muse does not seem to know this yet.

The Future

2008-04-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

I learned about 10 years ago that I can retrain my mind so that I don't worry so much; not anticipate the worst that can happen. Somewhere along the line, I had learned to believe that if you imagined the worst that could happen, it certain would NOT happen. For the most part, I found that credo to live by true, but, it was an exhausting and demanding credo.

Then, ten years ago, DH was approaching his first retirement. We had just moved to Turlock, bought a home, and in 18 months, he would be retired and looking for a second career path. I knew that no matter what, this retirement was inevitable, so I decided it was time to not worry so much about what it would mean financially but to turn my thoughts to acceptance.

This mental retraining was hard work. I was swimming up the stream against the very credo that had sustained me for too many years - if you expect the worst, you won't be disappointed when things don't go as bad as they might have. So - how did I manage this?

Well, I knew what I feared so RECOGNITION had been achieved. Once the fear was recognized and acknowledged, I was able to start seeing it in all of its disguises. Once I was able to see my fears and face them, I could turn away from them and as they say "Let go and let God". I was amazed at how well it worked. Not immediately, but, eventually it worked.

Talking yourself out of negative, self-defeating thoughts is sort of like reverse brainwashing, except this time you are literally washing your brain of the thing that holds you back. When the day came for Don's final day of work and more to the point, the following Monday when he did not have to get up for that long commute, all was peaceful within me. I knew and believed that we would be alright. Ten years later and his second and final retirement a year past, I have learned the lesson and I worry a lot less these days.

So now it is my turn. Retirement looms. I have 2 1/2 years to go and I want it so bad I can taste it. But, I learned something else along the way of retraining my fears and disconnecting from them; I also learned that you have to do a bit of planning. I don't mean financial planning, thought that is a given. This plan comes under the heading of "What will I do now that I'm all grown up?"

Certainly, I can kick back. Lord knows, I love to kick it. Give me a book, a cup of coffee, good music, my journal and a serene setting and I'm in heaven. Give me a walk in any sort of weather and my camera will go to work. Give me time to actually have the energy to follow-up on creative inspiration and I'm there. So what will I be doing?

Yesterday I was having coffee with my friend, Elaine, and I told her that I had always had this dream of having a little hole in the wall shop filled with books and treasures. It would be a place where people could come for coffee and tea, a comfortable chair to settle in for a while, a sort of retreat away from home. Elaine says put it out there and it can happen. Not news of course but a good affirmation nonetheless.

Having my own shop would give me a place to present my own work as well. Small books of poetry, my photography, greeting cards, etc. Since I'm still working, I can't do this, however, I can PLAN. The first step was opening my Etsy store. Currently I have a few crocheted items posted and now some of my photography is up.

And then the universe opened up another door - a show. Elaine is developing into a promoter and she has a plan that includes me. Beyond that, there isn't too much to say except that I will be in a show. What an exciting possibility to look forward to.

So, I have a plan. Develop my Etsy store, improve my digital knowledge, put together my poetry into small books, and most importantly, develop consistency and discipline so that I can succeed in my vision.

As we go into the weekend . . .

2008-04-04T08:41:00.000-07:00

. . . I would like to share this reminder of the need for peace, the need to resist violence.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kVlssD8kTc

The Grand Canyon

2008-03-29T21:37:00.000-07:00

Kris and Chad - the reason for the trip

Reunited for a few days after six week apart.

Chad is working these days with a big helicopter company that works out of the Grand Canyon.

This is Krista's first sight of the Grand Canyon. For anyone who has never seen it, you just cannot KNOW how immense it is. Pictures do not do it justice. Yes, big is big but SEEING it is a whole other thing. Kris' first glimpse was from the road through trees. She just about gave herself whiplash when she realized what she was seeing.

There was still a lot of snow in the canyon. The North Rim is closed from October through May There was actually a snowfall just a couple of days before we arrived in Williams so seeing the snow wasn't too surprising.

It doesn't take much to make me dizzy when it comes to heights. I can't even get on a low diving board without my head swimming on me. That I actually got out on this point was an accomplishment entirely due to the fact that there was a metal fence barrier to hold onto. Nevertheless, holding on was still a white knuckle experience for me and walking and turning from one side to another was a slow process.

Look closely in the lower left of the picture.
There is a suspension bridge spanning the Colorado River.

It was really bright and me without my shades. Typical.

The Road to Arizona

2008-03-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

The desert between Tehachapi, California and Willliams, Arizona is defined as high desert. It is a scrub bristling, ocatilla dotted, yucca bursting, Joshua tree blooming, wide open land. Crossing this green and yellow, burnt land are towns widely spaced with names like Tehachapi, Yucca, Kingman, Seligman, Ash Fork, and Williams.

Most offer little but two stand out and offer lots of visitor possibilities. Aside from Interstate 40 taking travelers from one destination to another, the biggest lure on this stretch of road is the nostaglia of old Route 66. Our destination, Williams, AZ, lies right on the historic route. Though little remains of cafes, motels or motor courts in Williams, there is plenty of preserved nostalgia.

You can visit the Route 66 Museum

Twisters

the train station, and Harvey house. There is no shortage of memorabelia - everything from magnets, postcards, maps, pictures, mugs, clocks, roadsigns, music, T-shirts and sweatshirts, gasoline pumps and gas signs.

Twisters serves up old fashion hamburgs, fries, onion rings, malts, shakes, and ice cream sundaes. The decor is pure soda fountain Coka Cola chic with Route 66, Elvis, and Betty Boop in the mix.

We stayed at the Buffalo Pointe Lodge and enjoyed our stay there a lot. Our host, Dan, was a friendly, ease-going guy. The cook, Cisco, was terrific. Great food. Great room. Wonderful memories.

Stay tuned. The Grand Canyon is up next.

Writer's Island - Deja Vu

2008-03-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday we drove to Arizona to visit a friend and see the Grand Canyon. I had not been to the Grand Canyon since 1972. Neither Don nor Krista had ever been. The road from California to Williams, AZ, following Interstate 40 was completely unchanged from the last time I had travelled that route in 1994 on a return trip from Missouri. It was a true moment of Deja Vu. But then Krista gazed out the window and said "I see green and brown all around..." and I realized that this was all NEW to her. So Kris - this poem to timeless I40 is for you.

FOR KRISTA

Green, brown, sage, yellow bursting from the ground
Flora and fauna in deceptive numbers abound
Blues and whites drift languidly above
Hills and washes fold together, a series of sheltering coves

Mountains harsh, rough and bare
Yucca stands alert
Racing roadrunner and chasing hare
Startled movement, puffs of dirt

Satellite and cell towers
Communications soar
Mountains a far off lookout bower
Of past and present blending lore.

Easter Trip to the Grand Canyon

2008-03-21T09:52:00.000-07:00

I am so excited. We are going to the Grand Canyon. The one time I was there before was in 1972, in the summer. Now we are going in spring. I expect the weather to be much milder. Krista's Chad is working with a helicopter company at the canyon and he has time off Easter Sunday, Monday and Tuesday so with Don being retired and me with vacation time to use, we decided on a quick trip so the young people could see each other for the first time since early February.

My trip to the canyon in 1972 was with a long-time friend going back nearly 40 years. We were two women on the road having an adventure. She had logged a lot of adventure miles by that time in her life. I, on the other hand, was just starting out with "solo" adventures.

This anticipated trip is stirring up a lot of memories that I plan to share when we return. In the meanwhile, we leave at 4 a.m. Saturday morning. Tanner gets kenneled tonight (which is causing Kris and I no end of anxiety). We will pick him up first thing Wednesday morning. Tanner and his peeps will be very happy to be re-united.

So, stay tuned. Don and I are staying in Williams. He has cooked up his usual surprise for me. I love surprises.

Limitless Imagination & A Cereal Surprise

2008-03-19T14:19:00.001-07:00

I am continually surprised by the beauty that is created with the tools at hand. The university art gallery has an interesting series of sculptures on display this month. However none are as interesting as the table being shown.

The artist poured amber colored resin in a circular form about 1/2 inch deep. Floating in the form were all manner of cereals, sugarcoated and plain, colors and shapes galore. Seeing this table was such a happy surprise.

Snow Flurries, Friends, and Bloggiversaries

2008-03-17T09:12:00.000-07:00

Saturday, last, turned into one of those looked forward to days that turned into a looking back on great memories day. Elaine and I took off on one of our ubiquitous road trips. This time, instead of heading west to San Francisco, we took off for the north and Pollock Pines. Along the way, we picked up my friend Barbara who lives in Diamond Springs. Barb has joined me at meet ups before. Click here for my Jan. 07 meet-up in Placeville.

This trip was all about meeting up with Tammy, our Daily Warrior, again. I first met Tammy when she lived in Sonora. Mom was still alive and made that trip with me. It was one of my last with mom. Click here for more about that first meeting. Tammy loves to share her Beloved cabin in the woods. The threatening weather gave Elaine and I some worries about even MAKING up there, but Saturday morning broke with clear blue skies dotted with white, fluffy clouds. There was nothing threatening to keep up on our way.

Tammy's home is filled with loving adornment and soft colors. Entering her house is like entering the embrace of a peaceful oasis, a place that will call you back again and again. Tammy says she collects only one thing, teapots and tea cups but I found angels everywhere as well. This little fellow is in the front yard, some of Dave's bulbs waiting to be set into the ground.

And speaking of Dave, no doubt about it, he is Tammy's most loving and tender adornment.

After a detailed exploration of Tammy's home, we headed into Pollock Pines to lunch at Los Hermanos. We had so much fun. We were like four chattering magpies that had a lot to say and there was no stilling us. The waiter got into the spirit of things and we decided that the next trip would include lunch at the Chinese restaurant next door. And then there was a hot dog place too. And, and, and. . . for such a little town, Pollock Pines offers a great variety of food.

Barbara called me the next day, delighted that she had had the chance to meet Tammy and Dave. Barb's Jeff is a fisherman and so is Tammy's Dave. I think it is only a matter of time before fishing plans are made. Oh, and Barbara has four grandsons. Guess who ELSE has four grandsons? There will be no lack of conversational topics with eight little boys to discuss and compare notes over.

The eyes definitely have it. Come visit. You will leave the better for it.

And just one more thing.

I noticed that today is the first day of the third year of my blogging. Happy Bloggiversary to ME. Let the FUN continue.

Pretty in Pink

2008-03-14T15:26:00.001-07:00

For a short period of time, the campus blooms white and pink. The white blossoms have dropped but the pinks are still with us.

Some things you just KNOW about yourself

2008-03-14T12:58:00.000-07:00

I think I would have been very disappointed if anything other than Fall had come up. No doubt about it - Fall is my favorite time of the year.

You Belong in Fall

Intelligent, introspective, and quite expressive at times...

You appreciate the changes in color, climate, and mood that fall brings

Whether you're carving wacky pumpkins or taking long drives, autumn is a favorite time of year for you

What Season Are You?

Doorways Around the World

2008-03-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

Today is Doorways Around the World Day. This doorway superstructure is a work in progress of St. Stanislaus Catholic Church in Modesto, California. By this time next year, the building will be complete and we will be celebrating our first Easter Sunday Mass within. For other doorways around the world, please click HERE of HERE or HERE.

Contrition

2008-03-09T14:02:00.000-07:00

Lent has always been a difficult time for me. I have an idea of how Lent should go but I've never had a firm grasp of the rituals nor the discipline to pursue the rituals in seeking penance and forgiveness. This Lent, however, I resolved to do something that is, for me, very different. I have not given up anything. What I have actually done is try to develop a ritual of enriched reading and improving my prayer life. To that end, I've been reading A Treasury of Catholic Wisdom, For the Greater Glory of God, and of course, The Bible.

Three weeks into Lent, I am starting to gain some insight into recognizing and then facing habits and rationalization that lead to sin. Once these negative habits are acknowledged, it is surprising how quickly the solution can come to changing the habit from a negative behavior to a positive. I have no doubt that I would have gotten to this point eventually if for nothing else than my conscience would have started nagging me. However, I believe it is the books above that have provide a more clear path to change and hence, forgiveness.

I have also learned that even though we are very insignificant in the larger scheme of things, we are all truly unique and have a voice that God will hear. And more than that, we have ears that will hear His responses. We need only talk to him with an open heart and mind and spirit to hear what He has to say to us.

CONTRITION

Motes of dust on specks of sand
joined as shoreline of land
waiting at the water’s edge of God's mercy,
our gathering place.

Alone, I am, in this gathering place.
My sin my own, an offense not to be compared to any other's.
All insult of sin so great, a rejection of God's friendship,
infinite goodness and grace.

Feeling love for Him, how could I not love myself?
Neither is possible alone.
Loving patience, forgiving and infinite -
His only demand? Embrace good, reject evil.

White room, adorned in nothingness,

becomes my slate, my learning place, of recognition.
Sins un-recounted, forgiveness a plea. Accepting God's mercy,
we unwrap His gift of our uniqueness.

Mote on dust -
Dust on sand grain -
Grain in a sea of sand grains -
Alone but known
and, heard.

Books, Books, and more Books

2008-03-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

I'm reading Becoming Jane Austen and The Thirteenth Tale. I'm so completely in love with both of these books that I can't not read them separately. So - I assigned reading time for each.
Jane is evening reading. Thirteenth is daytime reading. Someone told me today that John F. Kennedy did the same thing. He was a smart man. I guess that says something about me. . .or, NOT.

My Etsy is Opened

2008-03-05T00:02:00.000-08:00

I have thought literally for years about selling on-line. Like everything else that has required self-exposure, it has taken me forever to take this first step.

I have discovered over the past couple of years that I love crocheting and writing and a few surprise things from my childhood that I plan to re-invent and offer here as well. Please come visit soon.

One Deep Breath - Ink

2008-03-04T07:11:00.000-08:00

My ink spreads like tears

across papers rough and smooth.

My tears say good-bye.

Around My World Today

2008-02-29T10:36:00.000-08:00

Spring is busting out all over. Enjoy!!

Taking Another Step into Firstville

2008-02-28T15:47:00.000-08:00

I recently set up an Etsy store. YES!!, I did it. Another first for me. The cupboard is still bare so no link for you yet, but I have been a crocheting fool, working at perfecting my hand warmers. I've been working with several simple patterns, following the directions, taking the results apart and putting them back together again, and generally discovering the yarns I most enjoy working with as well as the hook size.

I've been worrying over variations in hand size so have been enlisting my friends to be hand models. Biene is my size small and it looks as though chaining 28 sts for a foundation with a G or H hook works for a small. Thirty is good for medium. Krista is my medium model. A 32 st base is good for large hands. I'm keeping track of the yarn type and weight and hook size of each warmer and writing the information on a piece of paper to tuck into one glove of each pair.

I'm pretty much going on a wing and a prayer, as I approach the organizing and understand of the craft, with quite a lot of trial and error mixed in. But it seems to be coming together. And why, you may ask, is she producing hand warmers now that spring and summer are approaching? Well, that may be but as close as I can tell, it is always winter somewhere on the planetand no one knows that better than we blogging friends do. Right?

A First and a case of serious nerves

2008-02-25T09:11:00.000-08:00

Just when you think that life has no more "Firsts" for you to experience, one comes along. Granted, I know in my heart that "Firsts" are always within us. After all, a pulse equals life and life equals actions of one sort or another. So - today - I committed an action. Today, at 60 years of age and counting, I have committed a "First".

Today . . .

. . . I submitted poetry for publication. In fact, I submitted TWO poems. And along with that, I submitted a photograph as well.

Oddly enough, it isn't the end result that I'm looking forward to. Now that I've committed to submitting, the results will be what they are. For me, the hardest part was and still is, the actually submitting. I may not ever break that particular nut entirely but I have certainly given it a good crack.

Writer's Island - Bookends and Second Chances

2008-02-21T23:06:00.000-08:00

Every family has that one person who serves as the bookend for birth and death. Usually the job falls to one of the women of the family. In my family, that job falls to me. Births, illnesses, deaths all line up for attention at one time or another in our lives and these moments are not necessarily limited to the two legged members of our family.

Being the birth/death bookend of our family means handling the activities and rituals attached to these events for the non-human members of our family as well. I've noticed over the years that it doesn't matter if the pet is a cat or a dog. In all likelihood, the departing pet can be a fish, a bird, a hamster . . . something small. No matter how small, each tiny family member has found a place in our backyard. Cammie, our hamster, is under a rock at our former home. Several gold fish have provided food for roses over the years. A few dogs departed during my childhood. In adulthood, it has been cats.

DH speaks cat. Cats know that our house is a sure fire place for adoption. Unattached cats hang out on the porch and if they are persistent, we start feeding them. It is only a matter of time before they discover the pet door in the backyard. Once that small door is found, the cat is ours.

This is how we acquired Gus. Gus hung out next door under our neighbor's RV for a couple of weeks and refused to leave. Finally determining that no food was forthcoming, he relocated to our front porch. A month later, he found the cat door and he moved in.

Gus became the most recent in a series of kitties that have adopted us. With each new addition, DH and I fall into a routine. He feeds them, makes sure there is always plenty of food, handles the cat box, and occasionally prepares them for visits to the vet. DH doesn't like to handle these medical matters. He's not much for human medical matters either but that being said, you can always rely on DH if something needs to be done.

I suppose if I were not the designated bookend of our family, Don would handle illness matters as well. But he has me so he doesn't need to. It's a responsibility I don't mind shouldering. He organizes the stuff of daily life, I handling the healing and end of life stuff. Today was one of those bookend days for me.

Back on my 4-20-07 post, you may have read about Gus' cancer and the the loss of one of his ears. He recovered from that but we knew he would not be out of the woods for long. It would be a short second chance. There were other signs that cancer was still present. Fall arrived and turned to winter. Gus ate and ate and ate. But, he did not gain any weight and more alarming, he did not develop a winter coat. He started slowing down. Breathing seemed labored. He became incontinent. He didn't complain but I knew we were going to have to face one of life's bookends soon. Gus' second chance was running out.

Yesterday I came home to Don just finishing the clean-up of a particularly messy accident Gus had in Don's study. At that moment, the switch just turned on for me. I knew I had to do something. Gus was not stretching out in his special place. We found him sleeping in, for Gus, odd places, like the hallway to the bedrooms. He pretty much slept where he dropped.

We've lost a few cats that have wondered off in their old age. Seemingly healthy but just slowing down, one day they would just be gone. Other times, age and/or illness precipitated a crisis and a midnight, after-hours run to the emergency vet. I realized that I did not want Gus to get to crisis point. I did not want Gus to just wander off to die alone. So, today I took Gus to the vet.

Dr. Flores is such a great vet. She loves animals and hates seeing them suffer. She does not encourage extra testing for sick animals. She encourages compassion for the very sick creatures who are in our care. We spent time talking about Gus in a special room they have assigned for hard moments such as this. The animals and their humans have privacy.

It was peaceful. Gus was enjoying the scratching and petting on his chin that he liked so much and then very quietly it was over. My part of the silent agreement that Don and I share was over. I brought Gus home and Don took over his part of our agreement. By the time I returned home from work this evening, Gus had joined Smudge and Paw Kitty in the corner of our yard, safely tucked away at the feet of our statue of the Holy Family.

Perched and Liking It

2008-02-19T14:22:00.000-08:00

I am having just the best day. No particular reason. Just a darn good day and I had to say it. So, consider this a ripple from Annie and SMILE. You will instantly feel better, I promise.

My lake birds are such an endless source of amusement. This Canadian couple seems to have found a cozy but, oh so EXPOSED, place to spoon.

Perched on a light post high above the amphitheatre outside the music building.

Weight Loss Update, Poetry and Birds Galore

2008-02-17T13:45:00.000-08:00

After a long stall with my weight loss efforts, it would appear that I've made a break through. After 10 months with Jenny Craig, I've lost and KEPT off 22 lbs. Most of this was off in the first 5 months when the great up and down struggle began. Then a great change happened.

I reconnected to Tammy S. a former piano student at the university in our department. She always struggled with weight and after her 2nd child had reached 250 lbs. Without going into a lot of detail here, suffice it to say that Tammy lost 105 lbs. and she did it the old fashion way - diet and exercise.

She was on the TODAY show recently and a co-worker sent me the video clip of her appearance on the show. My world turned upsidedown. Here is Tammy's clip. I believe if you copy and paste this URL into your navigation bar, you should be able to view her appearance.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/23111170#23111170

It is very much one thing to read of people who have successfully lost so much weight. It is quite another to KNOW someone who did it and did it without benefit of surgery. Danielle, my JC counselor is, as always, entirely on board with me.

So, now I have a plan.

I'm walking with Krista now.
Using an electric wok Biene gave me
Altering stir fry recipies to reduce the calories
Focusing on reading nutritional articles
Reading books that increase my spiritual growth and
Books that educate me in Church history.

The picture at my blog title is a sunrise outside my front door. So - dear friends, wish me luck as I now get on to the business of seriously continuing my weight-loss efforts and welcome, WELCOME to my sunrise.

*************************************************

This morning I was over at House of Java at 8;30 and didn't get home until almost noon. I arrived with my Treasury of Catholic Wisdom, and interview with the poet Romina Freschi, crochet patterns to study, and several miscellaneous items to look over.

The interview with Freschi turned out to be a revelation. I've been researching thoughts on idealism and suddenly I was face to face with a page of insights on idealism that will help me to continue as I gather my thoughts on a poem I'm working on entitled, Isle de Lyst.

Last week, I was deeply effected by a friend's loss of her job and the injustice of what had occurred. I found myself facing an aspect of myself I have not looked at too closely in a while -my deep seated idealism and strong sense of justice. I was so immersed in my reading that suddenly 2 hours had passed by and I need badly to get up and walk around. Leaving everying in the booth (I can do that without fear at HoJ) I started walking in a circle around the Raley's Center and parking lot. Along the way I ran across birds, flowers, and more birds. It was just the jolt I needed to shake the stiffness out of my neck and cleared my head for more reading to come. Here are few pictures from my walk.

This beautiful white dove was very content to pose for several shots before getting impatient with me.

No Ride Needed.

We Know the Way.

Turning Over A New Leaf

2008-02-15T10:08:00.000-08:00

Life has changed and my world has lightened up.
The face I show to the world is happier, brighter,
filled with less confusion and distress.
Hope. Idealism. Justice. Prayer. Activity.
These are my guiding lights.
These changes required a change on my blog.
Welcome to my sunrise.

Happy Valentine's Day

2008-02-14T08:13:00.001-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day to all of my dear friends. Here's to you with my favorite drink and something sweet.

Last Evening At Borders

2008-02-13T15:10:00.000-08:00

Taking a peak over the magazines to find . . .

Love in the Stacks

And while we are at it . . .

. . . what is wrong with this picture?

San Francisco Redux

2008-02-10T18:54:00.000-08:00

Last November Elaine and I made our first trip to San Francisco together. One of the places we hoped to see was Artfiber yarn shop. We didn't make it that day but we immediately made plans for our next trip and making this our primary destination. The plan made, we waited for February 9th to arrive, and arrive it did. And, how! Artfiber was all we imagined that it would be and more.

I first explored the shop online and was fascinated by the unique look of the yarns. However, it isn't the look of yarn that attracts me, it is the feeling that sells it to me. So visiting there Saturday was a sensory adventure of touch. Once I found a yarn I liked visually and by touch, I took a photo of the yarn and the description sheet (with permission of the owner, of course). This done, I could order online later.

The entrance to Artfiber was unexpected. A narrow door was tucked in between a restaurant and what appeared to be a medical arts building. Down a narrow hallway, we were lead to an equally narrow as well as steep set of stairs to the second floor. One hairpin turn later at the top of the stairs and a walk down another narrow hall, and we entered what would proved to be a yarn lover's holy of holies.

The narrow and astonishingly small shop was packed with the most unique selections of yarns I've ever seen. Granted, my experience thus far has not run to exotic yarns, but by any fiber lover's standard, this had to be the holy grail of yarn shops. The few pictures I took of the interior don't really do justice to what I saw there. I mainly took pictures of the description sheets of any yarn my fingers liked. The picture below give a little taste. The website is rich with images and descriptions and imaginative names.

After leaving Artfiber, I took a few moments to capture an interesting construction activity going on at street level. A long flatbed truck and a crane were at work. The crane operator moved the cable to heavy wood pallets. A man on the ground made the connection. Then, slowly and carefully, up rose the pallet. A gentle swing of the massive crane moved it around to the flatbed where it joined five other pallets already stacked and waiting for the last to join them. The ground man leapt onto the flatbed, caught the swinging pallet and guided it in and set it into position. The movement, remarkably, reminded me of a carefully choreographed and intricate ballet.

We did not have a specific plan after leaving Artfiber so we collected the car from the garage and simply started driving around. Elaine was seriously hungry. Having learned over the last 30 years (thank you DH) not to mess with a hungry person, we made food our next objective.

Elaine had lived in SF years ago in the Inner Richmond District. There was a particular hamburger place on 9th and Clements - Hamburger Haven she had visited many times. She had not been there for at least 8 years. Confidently we set out convinced that nothing as good as she remembered this place to be could possibly have gone out of business. And sure enough, there it was, a bit changed but otherwise still serving up sublime burgers and - joy of joys - cole slaw like I!!! make it.

Here we are - well fed and happy.

The wine shop below is a good example of what the district looks like off the main business area of the district.

Our day was coming to an end and we returned to the car - parked on the street. What a difference from the downtown San Francisco. Clement Street, the main business area, is primarily a Japanese and Asian business community quite separate from Chinatown. This is no tourist area but a thriving business center for the locals of the district. We were parked directly in front of a produce market. A quick peek inside proved that the produce market was far more than that. Two huge spaces, separated by a wall housed packaged goods in one area and produce, a meat counter and a fish counter on the other.

These fruits were huge and labeled Cora fruit. I had never seen it before and have no idea what it might taste like. They actually looked like really big mangoes.

I was fascinated by the colors and graphic images on the packaging.

Coffee. Is that Folgers I see on the right?

Green radishes. They were huge.

Eggplant

Live Conches and fishheads.

Fishmonger The man's appearance fascinated me. He was maybe five feet tall and solid muscle.

Our day ended happily and we are in discussions for another getaway. San Francisco may be on the agenda again. There is so much to see there when you get away from the city center.

A.M. Courtship

2008-02-07T09:31:00.000-08:00

The males have gathered and struggled.

Couples are pairing off.

Choices are still being made.

This happy couple has settled into a female approved courtship.

There was much harmonious noise around the fountain this morning.

Shall we peek out and make sure we are private?

Looking good.

Let me just hop down and we will

get to the business of nest building.

A This and A That

2008-02-06T09:02:00.001-08:00

Not too much going on right now. I should count my blessings. Below is a photo of more progress in the kitchen. I've had the glass shelves forever but just got them installed. God bless DH. The pretty little olive dish is from one of the music department students. She brought it back as a gift for me from her recent trip to Portugal and the Azores. it fits in perfectly with my Tuscan theme, don't you think?

Below is a sneak preview of a little gift I'm sending to a friend who lives in the very northern climes. You know who you are so if you see these warmers, know that they are on their way to you today.

Vote Today

2008-02-05T09:04:00.000-08:00

If you are living in a state that is part of Super Tuesday, than no other words are needed.

Superbowl and Blonds

2008-02-04T07:16:00.000-08:00

Blonds are rare in our family. When they do appear, they are temporary. My sister was born a blond but somewhere along the line in her fourth decade that started to change. The blond became an undefinable dark color - nature at work, not a bottle.

Redheads are even rarer. We have had exactly one. Of course, that would be Krista thanks to her dad's genetic contribution (and what a surprise THAT was until his mom told us about prior redheads from his family). However, at the moment there are no redheads in the family because Krista has gone BLOND. I've been seeing this coming for a while now and dreading it but now that the blond has arrived, I have to admit that I LIKE IT.

Yesterday also marks my participation in my FIRST Superbowl party - Patriots v. Giants. Joe and Barb (Chad's folks) had a typical superbowl food selection. All the goodies were there. Jenny Craig would not be happy with my indulgence. I have a lot of making up to do. But we had so much fun. I was noisy with everyone else. Don was his usual laid back and quiet self.

The big WAVE hit one corner of the room at one
point.

And, CHAD!! I got a good picture of Chad. There is nothing like football and food to loosen a smile out of the guy. Even the 4th quarter downturn for the Patriots could not dampen our fun. It's a good thing the Superbowl only happens once a year or I would weigh 700 lbs. in no time at all. I loved the horse commercial best and . . .

Tom Petty at halftime was so cool. Even a suit and a flat iron on his hair could not diminish his coolness. It was a totally fun afternoon.

Musings and Ducks

2008-01-30T00:11:00.000-08:00

Interesting how in the past three months I feel as though I have gone completely quiet within. I don't have any of the big questions challenging me anymore. In fact, I seemed to have found avenues to inner peace.

I am digging seriously and deeply into the study of my faith. I crochet each night. When I'm not crocheting, I'm working crossword puzzles, perusing the premium channels for unseen movies, and enjoy Tanner's antics and Gus' disdain of said antics.

To the left is a project I finished recently - hand warmers. After completing four of these in various yarn weights, I'm now looking around for a lacy, delicate pattern. If you know of any such out there, I'd love to be pointed in the right direction.

I write when the spirit moves me and find inspiration all around me. Even my approach to blogging has changed. The quieter I feel within myself, the less I need to post unless the mood strikes me. I still read and visit around daily. I treasure the friends I've made here. But now it seems that SFASMT has become as quiet as I'm feeling these days. Perhaps it's simply winter but whatever it is, I am very much enjoying the feeling. I'm very grateful for the serenity that has found me - or perhaps more precisely, the serenity which I have found.

**************************

So - that was last night. This is this morning and one of the great reasons why I feel so good much of the time. The ducks around the lake at work are so many and varied, so full of humor and antics that reflect human nature. A day doesn't go by when I don't hugely enjoy these creatures going about the business of building and maintaining their community hierarchy.

It rained. It poured!

2008-01-27T19:40:00.000-08:00

It poured today, thundered even .

Trees bent, rain slashed sideways.

The world was violently alive,

Crowned in its own vibrant light.

Liquid Icicles

Rain bouncing like hail.

An Amazing rainbow visible from one end to the other.

End of the rainbow

Stoplight and Rainbow

Biene's Inspiration

2008-01-24T10:51:00.000-08:00

I awoke to snow this morning –
not much, just a thin, dense blanket.
As I watched, light and warmth thinned it further,
Until it almost disappeared.
Rain returned once again and the white became
a passing thought.

My thanks to Biene for the inspiration that sprang from her

own post this morning.

Morning Song

2008-01-24T10:28:00.000-08:00

Birds were bursting in

song this morning. I stepped

outside into joy.

My Other Passion

2008-01-23T00:25:00.000-08:00

While I've been busy with the kitchen, I haven't let my other passion, crocheting, slack off. I tried knitting for two years and just could not get past knit and purl. But crocheting has become an entirely different matter. I find myself digging into the instructions, googling for tutorials if a technique eludes me, and even have come to recognize when the instructions themselves have gone wrong.

I just finished the runner below. It is made from 100% cotton, my favorite fiber to work with. The runner is also my first granny rectangle. I've displayed it in the first picture so you can get a sense of its size. However, it was destined for the top of one of our bookcases and now the case looks so much softer; a much better look.

Now that I've finished this rectangle, I'm working on fingerless gloves. I've been working in wool and acrylics but I hear the cotton calling me again. I'm imagining some Victorian adornments to add to their delicate femininity. So stay tuned. I hope to have a cotton pair finished next week.

Into The Evening

2008-01-22T11:00:00.001-08:00

Luminous myst'ry

Cloud delicately balanced

a brief gleaming veil.

Kitchen painting 101

2008-01-18T15:40:00.000-08:00

Four years ago I started resurrecting the kitchen. What was supposed to be a "get it finished NOW" project has become a long term and "work on it when I feel like" project. Well this weekend I felt like it. We have a 3-day weekend at work and it's slow this month so I picked up today to take off as well making it a 4-day weekend for me. Time to start working on the lower cabinets and actually FINISH the sink side of the kitchen. Click here and scroll down to see other cabinets finished a while ago.

After much thought, I decided to keep the lower cabinets solid and suddenly the entire project felt much more manageable. Here's what I've done so far. Stay tuned. More to come between now and Tuesday when I go back to work.

The drawers were finished ages ago. The mosaic work on the top drawer is my work made with found glass tiles from Scraps in San Francisco. Check Scraps out here. Fabulous place. The cabinet on the end will be stained to so the drawers will really POP.

Work in progress. Oven is new. Drawer beneath oven needs to be primed, painted, and stained. This gives you a good idea though of how dark this kitchen was.

Beneath the sink. Interior of the one door has not been primed and painted yet though the other side was. This is a good example of how hit and miss this project has been. Don is out running errands and when he returns I'll have a 1 inch brush so I can be sure to get all the detail work finished this weekend as well. So stay tuned. I'm feeling very motivated.

***********************************

UPDATE - It's Saturday afternoon and I've finished all that I plan to do today. I may prime one last drawer under the oven but that's about it.

My Peaceable Kingdom

2008-01-15T13:24:00.000-08:00

Something totally heartwarming

2008-01-14T14:54:00.000-08:00

Click here and see cute chihuahua's overcoming nature's deficit.
http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/?rn=3906861&cl=5924202&ch=4226726&src=news

And here's their story:
http://www.nsalamerica.org/campaigns/chihuahuas/

Strange Sightings and Sitings

2008-01-14T09:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, returning from the grocery store, I spotted a computer monitor just randomly sitting on the sidewalk. At that time, the monitor's back was turned, facing the fire hydrant as though in conversation. Later I drove by and it had turned away to observe the passing traffic. Finally, this morning, I saw it still hanging out on the corner looking like a streetwalker a little worse for the wear.

Writers' Island - Over the Horizon (behind me)

2008-01-10T08:34:00.000-08:00

Poinsettias, Petunias, and a morning surprise

Every Christmas when poinsettias explode into glorious color, I remember my father and his green thumb, a gift he received from HIS father. Thinking of my grandfather reminds me of his vegetable garden filled to overflowing with beans and tomatoes and onions and carrots and cucumber and, and, and . . . But most of all, I remember the petunias.

Gram and gramps lived in a huge, two story bungalow style house with a full basement and a full attic. At the top of the driveway, to the left, was a double garage with its own walk-in door set into the garage door. I remember being fascinated by the door in a door. In some ways, I still am as I've never seen its like since that house.

Farther up to the very end of the driveway was another garage that stood separate from the house. It was big enough to hold one small car. The doors swung open, outward from the center. It was between these two garages that the flower bed - more precisely - a petunia bed - sprawled in all of its pink and purple and red and white glory. The colors collided together like northern lights in the highest latitudes. Gram and gramps tended that garden every year, nurturing it to brilliant life. I would pick petunias when they got leggy, managing to keep them fresh for about a day. Then I would go out for more as they faded. There was no danger of running out of petunias.

It wasn't until I was much older that I remembered this gift that dad had received from his father. Reflecting on this gift, I brought home five poinsettia plants left over from our annual Carolfest at school. I was reminded of the poinsettias dad planted on the side of our home in San Diego way back in the 60's. Thereafter, until they moved, the brilliant red plants would bloom every season. Looking back on it, I wonder how my dad did it. Dad wasn't a fussy gardener and he didn't coddle his gardens. Yet every year, without any fuss or special techniques, they would come back providing a blast of red from the edge of our property.

How hard could this really be? For years the "care of this plant" directions intimidated me. You know the one I'm talking about - cover them; maintain darkness and a limited temperature range for x number of weeks; and voila - red leaves will emerge. My big question was "Where was this magic supposed to happen?" And more then that - "Who had the time?"

Over the past few years, I learned that following the rules isn't necessarily the best way to go when one is thinking about creativity. So pursuing this idea, I decided to put the rescued poinsettias against the back fence. More precisely, I would have the yard guys put them in. Of course, it rained that weekend so no yard guys. But, Tuesday morning I awoke to the nicest surprise. Don put the plants in, God bless him. Yard work isn't DH's thing but he, I've concluded, is a secret designer. He's done so many little things over the years. Some worked, some didn't, but recently his efforts have been successful. So, keeping that in mind, I'll make sure the poinsettias are watered and get the occasional feed, but that's it. It will be interesting to see if breaking the rules of gardening will bear me the same success as my father and his father before him.

2008-01-04T15:35:00.000-08:00

Angry morning sky

blocked sunlight, turned day to

night bringing caution.

Downpours and wind gusts
capriciously scatter
summer's last remains

A Few Things I Found Today . . .

2008-01-03T14:32:00.000-08:00

. . . that made me smile -

Julie's beautiful Celtic Blessing
The fabulous Charlie Eye Spy
Something olde
Borrowed thoughts from Noni

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY -
1947 William Dawson becomes 1st black to head congressional committee.

I find this bit of news very interesting as 70 years later to the day, in Barak Obama, we have the first serious black Presidential contender.

Routines

2008-01-02T09:20:00.001-08:00

It's January 2nd. I'm back at work. Vacation time is over. Every year, on or around December 19th, I leave work for a couple of weeks. Every year I think about all the things I will do during this down time. And, every year, none of it happens. Each year is different but the plans never pan out.

This year Quanah and Erin were with us for a few days as they accomplished the final leg of their return to Portland, OR. It was a joyful Christmas marred by only a hint of the heartache of November. New Years was quiet as it has been for the past few years now. Since the children have grown and mainly gone, we have tucked ourselves in for a warm night of togetherness and watching the excitement of Times Square.

So - Routine number one is accomplished - Holidays are behind us and all the ideas I had for doing this and that have been moved into my agenda for 2008. As I returned to work today I finally accepted the fact that Routine number one is not a practice run for retirement after all. It is, in fact, a time for me to JUST WIND DOWN.

But now I'm back at work and Routine number two has greeted me.

Structure to my days.
The ability to plan and
organize and
prioritize and
follow the plans.

If R#1 is a time to wind down, R#2 is a time to re-rev my engines.

I'm back to Jenny;
back to writing;
back to being open to inspiration.
I'm BACK.

I've finally GOT IT that I will not have a clue about my retirement routine until I RETIRE. There is no such thing as a practice run. So I will simply wait until the time is actually upon me (and no doubt forget this insight and have to remind myself from time to time). Have any of you experienced this. I'd love to read your stories of retirement.

Resolutions? None. Resolutions are meant to be broken. After all they are only more like guidelines anyway (Thank you Jack Sparrow) There is one thing though I am definitely going to do - replace my camera. My Canon is 3 years old with 4 mega pixels. This was excellent 3 years ago but I'm noticing that results are not so satisfying anymore. Perusing the cases at Target have shown me that low end cameras are now starting out at 7.1 mega pixels. Definitely time to upgrade.

And now - for a new addition to my routine.
Here is a post of a historic fact for this day in history.

1947 Mahatma Gandhi begins march for peace in East-Bengali

2007-12-30T15:09:00.000-08:00

Winter's hues soft, faint.
World living quietly, sighs
a gentle exhale.

Taking my tent down for a few days

2007-12-27T16:03:00.000-08:00

I find myself, in the post holiday season, to be a bit at loose ends. Q and Erin left today to return to Oregon and I have writing and crocheting I would like to pay attention to 100%. So, I think I will fold my tent up for a few days and give myself a break. In the meantime . . .

Remember a few entries ago when I wrote about Don being stranded in Detroit airport for 30 hours? I found pictures from stockexchg and google to illustrate being stranded at the airport. Well, he's home safe and sound now and here are a few of HIS stranded at the airport pictures. These are HIS real deal.

What a mess!

Moment to Moment

2007-12-23T15:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends

Thursday through Saturday afternoon found me totally alone. Except for the occasional phone call, I didn't talk to a soul. Crocheted. Shopped. Around the house stuff was taken care of. I was missing Don a lot.

He and Quanah called Friday afternoon after they pulled out of Fort Wayne. Q was driving the U-Haul. Don was driving Q's car (an unanticipated event as a towbar hadn't been reserved). This made for interesting communication possibilities. Quanah did not have a car charger for his cell phone. Don didn't HAVE a cell phone. It was raining, snow was coming in. I was pushing anxiety away, ruthlessly. Don followed Quanah and they worked out a series of signals to communicate problems, needs to pull over, etc. The idea of getting a set of walkie-talkies was a good one but they required charging before using. Since that wasn't possible, they relied on signals.

By the time they reached Oklahoma City, Saturday night they had gone through a bad storm and they decided to spend the night in OK City, get a good night's rest and than push on. Weather projections through the Texas Panhandle, NM, and AZ (along Interstate 40) were looking clear. Projected icy conditions for heading down to the panhandle and westward didn't happen. Thank you GOD.

Food shopping is finished (she thought hopefully) and tomorrow is preparation day. We are picking Erin up at Sacramento airport tonight so we will have three women in the house having fun in the kitchen. This will be a first for me. Another first is sharing cooking preparations for another household. Elaine suggested we make larger portions of food and trade, thereby reducing the cooking work overall.

How cool an idea is this?, I ask. So I'm making double batches of cranberry sauce and green bean casserole. Elaine is make double batches of yams and mashed potatoes. We'll trade off tomorrow afternoon or evening.

All I really need to do now is finish wrapping some gifts, pat myself on the back for not forgetting a card for Don this year, and get the turkey cleaned on Christmas Eve, all prepped to receive the dressing and get slipped into the oven Christmas morning.

I'm off for the airport now. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Merry Christmas to all of you. Have a wonderful and fun-filled holiday season.

Hugs

Annie

Christmas Hoopla

2007-12-21T19:03:00.000-08:00

Beth has tagged me for Christmas Hoopla. Now that I’m finally in the Christmas spirit (see #12) I am taking a few minutes to actually do this.

Here are the golden rules:

1. List 12 random things about yourself that have to do with Christmas.

2. Please refer to it as a ‘hoopla’ and not the dreaded ‘m’-word…

3. You have to tag specific people when you’re done. No “if you’re reading this, consider yourself tagged” stuff is allowed…then nobody ends up actually doing it. The number of people who you tag is really up to you — but the more, the merrier to get this ‘hoopla’ circulating through the blogosphere.

4. Please try and do it as quickly as possible. The Christmas season will be over before we know it! Let’s involve as many people as possible!

5. Please give Andrea some link-love as the “Hoopla-Creator!

My 12 Facts of Christmas

1. I LOVE fruitcake!!! So does Don. Our kids think we are out of our minds. Go figure.

2. Snow at Christmas would be nice but I haven’t had a white Christmas in longer than I can remember so I guess it really doesn’t matter. In fact, having snow might be a bit disconcerting.

3. Christmas cards start early and get out late. I love getting cards after Christmas. They are like little smile making surprises.

4. It took forever to get a picture of Krista with Santa Claus. She did not like that furry faced fellow at all. Finally, when she was six, she sat with Santa but insisted that Quanah go with her. I treasure that picture.

5. Funny how I don’t remember when I realized that Santa didn’t really come down chimneys to visit us (and by extention, that he actually existed). I sometimes wish he WAS a reality.

6. Quanah was born nine days before Christmas. Shortly after we brought him home from the hospital, Don disappeared for several hours. When he got home, he arrived with a tree, ornaments and a manger, all things that we did not have. He went to the mall’s Hallmark store and bought them out. When the manager of the store saw what was going on, he dropped what he was doing and helped Don personally. Don spent $150 that afternoon on the manger and ornaments. Mind you, that is in 1979 dollars.

7. Five years later when Krista was born (a month before Christmas), Don went out and did the same thing, buying all the 1984 Baby’s First Christmas ornaments he could find.

8. Don does all the decorating. And I do mean all. The smartest thing I can do is get out of the way. Krista doesn’t let him get away with it though and she always manages to get into it too.

9. Don puts up Christmas lights, too. Even when Quanah was growing up, it was a dad thing.

10. We LOVE watching all of the movies, old and new that come around on TV every year.

11. I always say Merry Christmas. I object to generalized holiday greetings. And I especially object to merchants continuing their raid on our wallets and then call Christmas trees holiday trees (Hello Borders. Are you listening?) We would not be celebrating as we do, other traditions not withstanding, if we were not celebrating the birth of Christ.

12. It always takes me a while to get into the spirit of Christmas. Not really sure why but once I’m off work, which is usually 5-6 before Christmas, I suddenly start feeling a lessening of the weight of work and the space I need to enjoy Christmas opens wide.

Now I get to tag some others. I am going to tag- LeeAnne, Robyn, and Annie. I hope you will joy in the fun.

I Used to Hate Shopping

2007-12-19T17:28:00.000-08:00

Holy tomoly, what a day. It's the first day of my break from work until classes are in session again January 2nd. The campus shuts down so I have free time to actually prepare for Christmas. I do very little Christmas prep other than on-line shopping prior to taking off from work because I really dislike being in crowds. And since most if not all of the people who populate our world work during the day, it's all about evening shopping. Sorry but, NOT FOR ME. So what is a girl to do?

Well, first off, she drives to the Gilroy Outlet stores just 2 hours over the hill from me. Off I went this morning with my baby brother, Dave. Yeah, I know. You've seen this picture of Dave before, but, it's such a nice picture, isn't it? Anyway --- Since I've never been much for shopping, outlet malls were never terribly close on my radar. However, today that changed and what follows can only be described as a conversion testimony. For those of you reading here and who understand the outlet mall mentality, you will totally understand.

Gilroy, California - for the uninitiated - is famous for two things; it's garlic and its attendant Garlic Festival and its outlet malls. There are no fewer than four and one more is in the building stages.

After driving through all four of them, scoping out the stores, we made a plan. Kitchen stores were first on the list. Dave cooks. NOT me. But while there I found a pretty serving set that I KNOW my sister-in-law will like very much. Dave accomplished his sole objective and it was now time for me to pick myself up from my swoon and start shopping.

As is no doubt apparent to any seasoned outlet mall shopper, there was no way I was going to get to all of my target stores. Also - I was with a man. Yes, not my hubby, but a guy nevertheless, and most men like to do what I call hit and run shopping. Mission accomplished and then go home. What Dave DIDN'T know is that THAT is pretty much my shopping M.O. as well. Basically, if I don't see anything that interests me right away, I leave. I'm totally not into finding that hidden gem because hidden gems, in my experience, are always found by someone else.

**HOWEVER**

Three stores after the kitchen objective had been accomplished, I was swooning again and making plans to head to Gilroy again - this time with my daughter. First stop was Crabtree & Evelyn. Dave circled the parking lot and I was out in under ten minutes with fabulous Summer Hill Hand Therapy. He was becoming a believer.

Next stop was the Bombay Company. For those of you who like Bombay Company and who do not know - they are going out of business. The on-line shopping site is already down. So here I was at not only an outlet store but a GOING OUT OF BUSINESS outlet store. The possibilities were endless but hauling space in Dave's SUV was NOT. However, he found a pretty side table

(some assembly required) . . . and

I found a beautiful mirrored cross

to add to my collection of crosses.

The last stop was the best. I regularly get Coldwater Creek catalogs. I ooh and ahh over the clothes but have never ordered from them. HOWEVER, guess where I found an outlet store? Uh huh. You got it. Not only did I immediately step on the express train to fashion heaven, but Dave found something for his wife. Here's what I found.

and

in pretty chocolate brown.

Too soon the day came to an end but I already have a plan. Dress Barn (where I always find what I need when I'm looking) has an outlet store there. So does Lane Bryant. So about that plan. Kris agrees that a January road trip is in order. No men allowed. Just us girls and lots of leisurely shopping that will definitely include a return trip to Coldwater Creek.

Stranded in Detroit

2007-12-17T19:49:00.000-08:00

Isn't this a lovely rendering of a metro airport? Yeah, sure it is. So what's with the oddball question? Like we care. I sure wouldn't have.

HOWEVER . . .

That was before I had 30 hours of wondering where Don was in this pretty picture all buried under snow and bad weather. Yes indeed, Don was stranded in Detroit. More precisely, he was stranded at this little airport for 30 hours.

The adventure started innocently enough at 7 p.m. on Saturday evening at the Sacramento Airport. A 90 minute hop later, and he was changing planes at LAX. Then it was on to Detroit Metro for one last change for another 90 minute hop to the airport at Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Terrible how quickly things can go wrong and then proceed to go from bad to worse. Don arrived in Detroit at 5:15 a.m. Sunday morning and was greeted by a flight cancellation. Over the next 30 hours, he was re-ticketed and cancelled 4 more times. His original arrival time of 10 a.m. Monday ended up at 1 p.m. on Tuesday.

The story in between will be something and since Don is really good at producing detailed trip reports, I'll leave that story to him (to be posted here later on after his return).

What I do know is that from start to finish, the carriers and airport did very little to assist people as they waited, and waited, and waited. The worst thing was that there weren't even announcements of gate changes when you finally DID get ticketed again. Off you would go to the appointed gate only to arrive and discover that it had been changed. Sure, the gate changes were noted on the boards but think about it. People are tired and stressed. Are they really looking? Often not. Then you finally get to the right gate and are greeted with another cancellation.

As it turned out though, there was one nice and spontaneous bit of help. Many of the passengers, after so many hours, took to sleeping in the seats in the gate areas and on the floor. Carrier personnel came out with blankets which was helpful.

But I have to question the entire disorganization of the event. It's winter in the Great Lakes and northeast. Weather is an issue. Crowds of people with nowhere to go are expected. It isn't a question of will there be delays, but, when will the delays happen. Why there isn't a plan in place to make assistance and comfort run more smoothly is beyond me.

By the time Don arrived in Fort Wayne, he was exhausted. Quanah greeted him with earmuffs, a watch cap, gloves and HOT Earl Gray tea. Soon he was warm inside and out. Lunch was in his immediate future and then bed for a well-earned sleep. Packing for moving starts tomorrow just a day behind schedule.

All photos from Google Images or Stock.xchang

San Francisco, There I Went

2007-12-14T07:08:00.000-08:00

This past Saturday, I headed over to SF with my friend, Elaine. She likes to drive. I like to ride. It's the perfect blend. I pay for gas and parking and we are good to go.

Saturday's mission had been planned for several weeks. We went to SFMOMA (SF Museum of Modern Art) and the Cartoon Museum. Two exhibits waited to be enjoyed. The drive over could not have been easier -

No traffic
no accidents to slow things up
no weather

It was clear sailing all the way.

A Joseph Cornell exhibit was at the MOMA through early January. Cornell is an assemblage artist, producing boxes and building secret and mysterious worlds within these boxes. I picked up a JC book before going to the exhibit to familiarize myself with more of his work and along the way immersed myself in his life. I'm glad I did because I saw so many of his assemblages there that I had first met in the book.

Seeing them personally was such a rich experience. The pages of a book gives the viewer only a taste of what he did. To see them in a exhibit was a completely enriching experience. I kept on wanting to reach in and touch everything, even moving in close at one point to view the box more closely only to be stopped by the glass case. Ouch!

The Cartoon Museum had an Edward Gorey exhibit of his costume and set designs for the 1970's Broadway production of "Dracula." You know, the one with Frank Langella (be still my heart). It was terrific being able to see his designs in their various stages. It was also good being able to see this show separate from Gorey's more recognizable work many of you may be familiar with. It was like getting a peek into a very specific part of Gorey's world.

Elaine and I walked down Mission over a four block area. I had never seen so many museums packed into a few short blocks. All were specialized and rate further exploration, especially the African Diaspora Museum on Mission.

We passed Buena Vista Gardens with its beautiful fountains and setting for outdoor music and opera.

St Patrick's Catholic Church was across the street from the gardens. We visited it as our last stop before returning home. While there, enjoying the quiet and utter peace of the place, I was approached by one of the city's ubiquitous street people.

"Sorry - no purse with me."
"Is it at the Marriott's next door?"
"Sorry - no purse", I replied, stunned by this brazen question.

Moments later he and another homeless person started yelling at each other across the church, slashing a ragged tear into the peaceful fabric of the place.

The sad thing is that as I recall their yelling words, they didn't make any sense. It was like they weren't even seeing each other but rather they were seeing someone else and hearing other words in reply. Only a physical body was taking up space, each body the image of someone who wasn't really there.

Between museum visits, we hit Mel's Diner, enjoying good burgers and sublime onion rings, and way overpriced coke, no refills. Next time I'll ask. The place was packed from 11 a.m. when we first walked by to 3 p.m. at least, makig our final pass as we returned to the garage to pick up our car and head back home.

Deck the Halls, etc. etc.

2007-12-12T09:21:00.000-08:00

This is just plain fabulous. ENJOY.

Crossing the Road

2007-12-11T08:31:00.000-08:00

Today is Reading Day. The last day of classes was yesterday and finals start tomorrow. Driving into the parking lot this morning was a quiet experience. No cars! But there sure were plenty of road hazzards. Check out the locals and warm wishes for a wonderful day to all of you.

Thoughts on Turning Sixty - Part II

2007-12-10T22:44:00.000-08:00

I ended Part I several days ago thinking about discerning need. Since then I've started to revise my thoughts on seeking daily opportunities, giving to large charities, and what is actually beneficial giving.

Frida and Biene have both shown me two ways, too very different but compatible paths to follow. Sometimes the way to accomplish good can seem so complicated even when one starts from the basic message of Christianity - Love one another. So many conflicting messages and needs and directions on how to accomplish this simple act. So many who take this simple message and twist it into something ugly. Whether it's emails from Nigeria, phone calls, legitimate looking mail, or panhandlers - there is a lot out there to twist and corrupt simple acts of charity.

For a while now, I've turned my back on organized charities with their huge overhead. I asked myself - how much of what I give actually accomplishes its goal. Certainly, I know that charitable acts on a global scale do need the infrastructure to make it happen. But there is a part of me that responds most strongly to direct action. Simply put, I like the action of

Point A (me) -----> Point B (the need)

Frida talked to me recently about development and the need for sustainable resources and creating foundations for people to eventually sustain themselves. What I learned is often this means showing that simple respect between men and women plus education for boys and girls, is all that is needed for people to build their own strong communities. But what I've also learned is that this simple truism isn't so simple to teach or to learn. If it were, well - how different our world would be.

So, what can I do on a larger scale? What can I do on a small scale? The ways are filled with possibilities but there is one thing, on a small scale, that I won't feel badly about saying no to anymore and here is where Biene's words came into play.

We were talking over lunch recently and I recounted the story of being out with a group of women last month when two young men approached us. There were five of us seated around and outdoor cafe table and my back was turned so I did not see their approach. When this guy spoke, it startled me then it clicked what was happening. Here we were being hit up be two young men who definitely were capable of doing more with their lives than begging and in a flash I was just plain pissed. While everyone else was quiet and motionless, I just felt that anger come to life and I basically told them - No, God bless you, and get lost.

They left and I instantly felt guilty. You know the old adage about angels knocking and there might be Jesus? It didn't help either that I got teased about what I had done. So it was very on my mind. Biene's feedback was concise and to the point. Thank God for this hardheaded and wise woman. Her input was simply this -

Think of stewardship.

You are given gifts that are yours to do with as you chose.

You are responsible for discerning how to best spend those gifts.

Our gifts are infinite in number but so are the people out there who need. Some needs - many needs - are real and true. Many more are not. It is up to us to discern genuine need and in doing so we will more truly be able to love one another and more accurately recognize when angels are knocking at our doors.

And so, I have some answers now that make sense.

1. If you want to help globally, work with the big organizations.

2. If you want to work within your own community, find a group of like-minded people.

3. If you want to satisfy the desire for direct action - well, keep your eyes and ears open.

4. And always. ALWAYS, remember that our gifts are ours to spend as we choose.

Christmas Traditions

2007-12-09T09:03:00.000-08:00

Jill, over at Follow Your Bliss has invited us to share in our holiday traditions. After all of the sadness that has visited us for the past couple of months, this seemed like a wonderful way to start shedding some light around again.

We started purchasing Christmas mangers over 25 years ago. Our collection has depleted since the marriage of our son this past June but this is the perfect excuse to purchase more and start building our collection again. Here are a few that remain and remind us of the reason for the season.

My personal favorite - a small creche from Peru.

We also follow the tradition of either Krista or I going out with Don to pick up the Christmas tree. This year, since I was in San Francisco for the day (more to come about that soon), Krista went out with him. Don rarely goes alone. It just wouldn't be right. We always try to go to the same tree seller which, interestingly, happens to be at the local SaveMart grocery store. They have great trees and never cost over $20.00. Go figure considering the prices elsewhere. Here is one of our happy trees.

My favorite ornament.

We have few food traditions at our house. Chalk that up to me just not being terrible interested in kitchen activities. But actually, now that I think about it, this attitude may be undergoing a sea change. I've been searching cooking recipes and actually have ingredients on the counter set to use. If I actually do this, I'll have to memorialize it here so stay tuned.

However, on the subject of food tradition, Don DOES have one. About six years ago he started baking his grandmother's banana cake. Click here for the story. Considering he doesn't cook a lick, this is nothing short of miraculous. You just have to love this man. Family history means a lot to him and the love of tradition visits us every year now in the form of this delicious cake. But - other than that, well, thank God for Christmas goodies from the grocery store. And more thankfully, the kids didn't mind a bit.

Morning Sky V

2007-12-08T22:54:00.000-08:00

The sky was on fire Friday morning as I stepped out the front door. This photo is completely unedited. The sky was truly this clear and fire golden color.

Morning Imges

2007-12-07T09:10:00.001-08:00

Winter's children float .
Green bed of water supports
as cold rocks embrace .

Paying it forward with gratitude

2007-12-06T10:51:00.000-08:00

Found this today. In light of the Christmas season, I wanted to set this as a reminder of all that we have. I am grateful but I also feel responsible. Pay it forward whenever you can.

We Gather Together

2007-12-05T22:36:00.000-08:00

This weekend when we drove to Oregon for George's funeral, we also happened to be driving into what would be the worst storm to hit the Pacific Northwest in many years. While the coast was experiencing hurricane force winds, loss of electricity, communications, and tremendous flooding, we were experiencing rain, snow, and wind gusts that knocked our car around. It made driving a real challenge on our return home drive.

Saturday we woke to snow flurries. I had not seen snow in at least 15 years and these little motes of sparkling dust fascinated me. The snow remained light and wet, staying on the ground through the day. Erin said snow this time of year was unusual so of course, the snow was a gift from George.

If funeral attendance is a measure of one's impact in life, then George's impact was GREAT. Family, friends, and co-workers numbered in the low hundreds, perhaps 350 or more. Mass was short one communion minister so I had the unexpected privilege of offering communion. I had not anticipated how emotional it would be. Each person, as they came forward, wore a face etched with sadness as they struggled for control.

I was moved by George's mother's personal strength as she spoke of him at Mass's conclusion. It was gratifying to hear of George's own words to her of his readiness to move on. And most of all, I was comforted for his family that he had found a mission, that he fully expected to wield a great sword - to be a force against evil much like his namesake, St. George.

Erin's family home overlooks the rolling hills of a rural farming community. The still active cemetery was established in 1887. Unlike the clean and orderly lines of modern cemetery, George has been laid to rest in a place that is one with the roll of the earth and the elements.

The seasons sharply mark the life cycle of the area and echo in the cemetery itself. Winter snow covered rhododendrons, weathered headstones, and leafless trees. Barns and greenhouses hug its boundaries, present life rubbing up against past life.

We eventually left, each of us wrapped in our private thoughts. I loved the triplets, as I called the three winter barren trees, guardian soldiers of this resting place. But now, five days later, I see more than three trees. I see a Trinity - a gathering of the protective strength of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost and I know that George is safe, preparing to wield his sword.

GATHERING

Gathering.
Young and old
to honor one gone
too young.

Young widow
surrounded.
Parents
surrounded.
Yet still three very alone people.

Shock still lives here, but -
Each ebbing of the sun
moving shock's cold reach
farther off.

Pain and anger.
Acceptance and reconciliation.
Each arrives in its turn
doing its work as
new life begins again.

Winter Haiku and One Deep Breath

2007-12-03T19:21:00.000-08:00

Containers of our past

Winter's light blanket
Hillside sleeps beneath its weight
Past turns to future

On The Road

2007-11-29T21:42:00.000-08:00

We are on the road to Oregon tomorrow morning. We'll be leaving around 8 a.m. and traveling up to the Portland area. The drive takes about 11-12 hours. The funeral is Saturday morning. We will probably get back sometime Monday afternoon after breaking up the return trip with an overnight in Medford. It will be good to see Quanah and Erin again despite the circumstances. Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts.

In Memorium - 1980 - 2007

2007-11-27T20:42:00.001-08:00

George was full of life. I knew him so little but so completely. I love Erin, my daughter-in-law, dearly and by extention, her wonderful family. It wasn't hard to quickly come to love and care about all of them.

Revelation 14:13

I, John, heard a voice from heaven say:"Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on." "Yes," said the Spirit. "let them find rest from their labors, for their works accompany them."

The Word of the Lord.

Update on George

2007-11-26T08:57:00.000-08:00

Quanah is in Oregon at the moment. He returns to Indiana tomorrow. He just called and told me that after George leaves the hospital (probably today) he will be going into home hospice care. It's all about pain management now. Please remember George in your thoughts and prayers. Blessings to all.

Some Thoughts on Turning 60 - Part I

2007-11-24T15:20:00.000-08:00

I wrote a poem earlier this month, a poem I should keep foremost in my mind - a sort of anthem if you will, to act as a reminder of why I am actually happy to be 60.

Yes, I find it strange and actually A LOT weird. I don't feel 60. Perhaps I won't feel 90 when I get there either. I wonder if true age is a state of mind? I've known young people who seem so old. They even dress old. But it seems that the older I get the younger I feel. And, as I age, I realize that the greatest gift age has given me is the gift of

Wisdom

A few things are truly important to me and how they fit into my life comes from experience and the wisdom I've gained along the way.

Wisdom has taught me a lot about friendship. Thoughts of friendship and its place in one's life has been on my mind for several months now. Friendship has so many faces - long-term, short-term, new, cyber, real world. What more is friendship than a connection we make with another person? What is the glue that binds this connection and determines its strength?

Long-term friendship holds with strong glue - but - does it really? Since friendship is a connection between people and people often find themselves in seasons of change, it stands to reason that the glue needs to be changed too. Friendship is a structure that requires maintenance. Without it, a friendship can flounder.

The sad thing about change is that while it is happening, it can lead to confusion for others. I've noticed that few people show patience when unusual or unexpected personality flashes occur. Few people step back and ask what is going on. Close family members might but people are, for the most part, reactive. Once I noticed this, I started becoming more watchful of the people in my life.

But changes, when they do occur, are living creatures. They demand a lot of us and the roads they lead us to sometimes aren't pretty and nor well-paved. So sometimes we find ourselves saying good-bye most unexpectedly to a friendship, a relationship. Perhaps we feel a sense of relief but I think more often we must feel a sense of regret, a sense of loss.

Along with friendship, the making and/or losing of connections, I also find myself traveling a faith road. This road has taken an unexpected u-turn and turned me back to my past. I've written previously about my dismay with the Church today and especially the state of worship. A month after returning to the Latin Mass, I find that I have rediscovered the reverence in worship that had all but disappeared for me. Some might think that I have returned to something that isn't relevant in the 21st century and certainly no one born around or after 1962 would have a memory of the Latin Mass and how meaningful it truly is. For me, it has become a matter of not knowing what you had until you lost it.

I find now that the reverence of worship I experience each Sunday actually fills me with a light that carries me through to a closer awareness of my daily life. And, since my daily life is firmly rooted in the 21st century, I am more aware of the moment to moment needs of others. Considering the level of global communication we share now, how could I not?

This aspect of my character has always been active but the weekly immersion in reverence of worship has actually acted as a sort of weekly booster shot to be more immediately responsive to need. This immersion is also teaching me to be more discerning of need, to understand that angels are not necessarily knocking when the need presents itself. Thoughts of angels causes me a lot of concern and after a bit I will be pursue this train of thought in Part II of my thoughts on turning 60.

Writer's Island - The Dream

2007-11-22T11:07:00.000-08:00

I have yearned for most of my life to live by the ocean. I lived in San Diego in my teens so have wonderful memories of the beach. Of course, this was over 40 years ago and much has changed in San Diego and it definitely would not be the place to which I would return to live. However, the dream of a home near water hasn't changed.

This week's prompt at Writers' Island is The Dream. This prompt fit quite neatly into a beautiful series of aboriginal words recently posted at Annie's "Bimbimbie" blog. Annie is in Australia. Please click here and here for some background.

As I looked over the words (second click), admiring their magical and lyrical sound and images, it came to me that all the words worked together to create a perfect poem of my dream place. I share it with you here and wish you all many blessings on this Thanksgiving Day.

Weeona emoh ruo
Mirri-Mirri illalangi

Karribi givinganna
Oodlawirri, Wambiri
[Merge]
Aroona and Bultaroo
[Brother & Sister]
Elanda

[Peace in]
Weeona emoh ruo.

The shelter

High up home on hill

Headland lookout

Hill and tree country, seacoast

Merge

Running Water and North Wind

Brother & Sister

Home by the sea

Peace in

The shelter.

*****************************

And for one of the nicest and most heart-felt Thanksgiving Day thanks I've ever read, please click here and say hello to my dear friend, Biene.

Remembering George and so thankful that he has this day with his family.

Winter Heart

2007-11-19T11:53:00.000-08:00

Sensation in heart
So desirous, pain squeezes
A moment, freezing time.

Choking sensation
Releases emotional
Reply to spirit.

In the quiet of
A frozen moment, answers
Salute saying "act".

Class Reunion

2007-11-17T17:59:00.000-08:00

Two years ago, a few women, most of whom had not met face to face, got together for a day of art and fun and conversation at Penny's house in Keyes, CA. Today, two years almost to the day later, we got together again, a few of us missing and one new face joining us. The fun was as lighthearted and happy today as it was at the past meet-up. Our group was smaller but the joyful laughter of women at play was just as great. Here is our little group.

Back row from left is Jane (New York visitor and the catalyst for these meet-ups) Charlotte, yours truly, and Denise - our new face. Front row from left is Aileen, Penny (Jane's hostess) and Lotus, Charlotte's daughter.

Aileen hosted our class today and taught us the intricacies of working with metal clay. We all came away with 6-7 silver charms made by our own hands. I haven't taken a picture of mine yet but will soon and will get them posted in the next couple of days.

How slowly would I like to live my life?

2007-11-16T09:17:00.000-08:00

I would like to be riding a train, admiring fields of flowers as I pass.
I would like to be moving so slowly that I might
jump from the train, spend time gathering flowers,
and fashion a bouquet for my hands and heart to hold
as I re-board that still moving train.

I would like to stand at the back of the train
and watch cares fall away like gently floating scarves
caught on a wind to peace
and feel the fluttering kiss of their departure
on my cheek.

It is the slow and quiet moments from which I draw strength
when discordant life overtakes the gentle wind of peace;
discordance so swift, unexpected, and sharp
that even hardy wild flowers wilt beneath its heat.

The slower pace
offers the honeyed taste
of wildflowers,
fresh as wet from spring rain.

Bouquet's flourish of sprinkling freshness
reminds me to lift my face skyward and
breathe deep the cool, sweet air.

Touch, See, Hear, Taste, and Smell
I savor life from my slow-moving train.

Morning Sky III

2007-11-16T07:01:00.000-08:00

Have a wonderful day as you go into your weekend.

Twilight

2007-11-15T08:39:00.000-08:00

Ten minutes after five Wind sends gentle ripples In soft undulations Lightly across water's surface In endless eddies, Going round in rings, Hastening The setting sun.

A couple of tags

2007-11-14T00:24:00.000-08:00

Thinking Aloud tagged me for a random facts meme. I thought about it for a while and then decided to dust off this old chestnut and use it again. It actually still fits nicely.

The instructions tell me to tag others but, oh heck, you know me, just jump in and have some fun. Then let me know so I can read YOUR random and weird facts.

*************************************

Ret recently sent a tag along to me that I thought was really interesting. The tag asks for an explanation of why/how I chose the name of my blog. I am to then ask two other people to explain as well. So here is my explanation - short and sweet:

I traveled across country several times via train when I was young. I think I was 12 the last time I road the rails. It was Santa Fe all the way. Back then kids were given a measure of freedom that no sane parent would allow today. I would spend hours alone in the dome car watching the landscape pass. It was, in a word, mesmerizing.

I remember thinking that the train seemed to be going so slowly. The world went by at a leisurely pace and I always felt I had enough time to enjoy the details of went before me. This image of a slow moving train has always stuck with me and somewhere along the line I imagined that someday I would write, short stories, vignettes, memories, etc. of my life and wrap them all up in a journal(s) called Scenes from a Slow-Moving Train.

That this actually happened, albeit, as a blog, is still a source of surprise for me. But in March of 2006 inspiration in the form of a friend's blog and then my introduction to the world of blogging has brought me to this day 21 months later still going strong yet immeasurably changed and all because I actually started writing MY scenes from my slow-moving train.

For this tag, I WILL select two to pass the question along to. I'm curious. So - what was the inspiration for YOUR blog name?

http://turquoisecro.blogspot.com/
and
http://bimbimbie.blogspot.com/

Ice Leaf Haiku

2007-11-12T22:48:00.001-08:00

Winter's icy breath

chokes lone leaf's struggle for a

last twist in the wind.

photo from bewinca @ stock.xchng

Tanner at Play

2007-11-11T10:06:00.000-08:00

I've discovered a new (for me) blogger tool - uploading videos. So without further ado, presenting Tanner at Play.

Writer's Island - Unforgettable - Part Two

2007-11-09T08:56:00.000-08:00

Fourteen years after the intense and terrifying rainfall of East Texas, we once again found ourselves in Texas, this time travelling west, Krista now part of our family. Some memories are so simple and perfect in their simplicity that it takes very little to resurrect them in your mind. For me, this memory comes from the aforementioned biscuits mentioned at the beginning of Unforgettable - Part I.

Once again we were being chased by a rainstorm across Texas. We had dropped south from Quanah, Texas to Interstate 40W when we connected with the storm. Unlike last time, we were driving a rental car - a Lincoln Town Car circa 1993. The comfort and luxury of this car cannot be praised enough. It was like driving your own Pullman car with room and comfort for all. I don't recall a bit of squabbling coming from the backseat the entire trip.

As nightfall approached, we decided to stop before we entirely lost the sunlight, memories of East Texas stranding still sharply in our minds. We took a turn-off to somewhere and dropped onto a distant connecting road that matched the interstate from one exit to the next, a beacon for travellers, truckers, and local ranchers. We pulled into a strip of businesses bookended by a cafe and a mom and pop motel on one end with gas stations on the other. If you are picturing bright neon and Holiday Inn Express/Howard Johnson motels or fast food restaurants, you would be so wrong. Picture instead a single story, rambling and box-like motel hosted by a 4th generation Texan. She nodded us to the cafe across the road and assured us that the biscuits were the best we would ever hope to find anywhere.

The rain came down in a steady pour, the sound soothing after hours on the road. We had two rooms, a TV in each. The kids claimed a room and a TV and settled in for the night in their own beds. There was nothing at all fancy about these rooms, falling more into the category of inside camping. But the rooms were clean and fresh smelling and the sheets felt like heaven.

By morning the rain had passed by to the west and was now ahead of us. We would have clear skies for a while. We crossed over to the cafe with the best biscuits ever. Once again we found ourselves in a local hangout. Tables were scattered without any particular pattern throughout an large and rambling room. A wide opening gave a clear view of the kitchen and the wall ovens from which issued forth these fabulous but still untasted biscuits.

The first wave of locals had already come and gone, fortified by strong coffee, a huge breakfast and those BISCUITS. The waitress arrived with coffee and orange juice - both unasked for but presumed. She presumed right. Orders were taken and we were assured that the next round of biscuits was already in the oven. As we waited for our plates to arrive, I watched the baker moving smoothly back and forth between table and oven, movements economical and practiced as raised dough was punched, rolled, and set out onto heavy sheet pans, an assembly line for baking.

In due time, breakfast arrived AND the biscuits. It goes without say that anyone who can produce the “best biscuits ever” will also produce a great breakfast and oh they DID. But those biscuits!!! Imagine large, full, light and buttery, melting, smooth, steaming hot, crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and covered in homemade jam – or not – and you will be able to redefine the meaning of the word “sublime”. Breakfast came to an end too soon and the road beckoned, but not before the waitress returned and presented us with a bag of those “best biscuits ever”, for the road of course. Hours later they were cooled about still remained utterly sublime and UNFORGETTABLE.

Morning Sky II

2007-11-09T08:19:00.000-08:00

Booties for Babies Update

2007-11-08T07:34:00.000-08:00

Update time. I have an address now for sending Booties to Frida via a soldier stationed in Ghor. I have received a few and would be happy to receive the booties and mail them out in one package. Or you can email me for the address and mail them yourself directly. They go to an APO address in the U.S.A. and then 10-14 arrive in Afghanistan. So - if you have booties out there ready to warm little feet, things are good to go for mailing and winter is fast approaching.

Thanks to all
Annie

Writer's Island - Unforgettable - Part One

2007-11-07T17:22:00.000-08:00

This week’s Writers Island prompt came at a time when biscuits on a plate reminded me of two cafes in Texas. The experiences were separated by fourteen years but both were found in the middle of nowhere and both were

UNFORGETTABLE.

August 1980

You can’t know what darkness truly is until you find yourself long past sundown on a moonless night in East Texas. Quanah was nine months old and crying fretfully in the backseat of our new Honda Accord. The night was quiet and traffic was light on the interstate so I reached in the back, lifted him out of his car seat and settled him onto my lap. He calmed immediately and in that brief moment of peace the East Texas sky split wide. Without warning, a tremendous down pour became the center of our world and with the flick of a switch, we discovered that our windshield wipers did not work.

I will never forget discovering, in the moment, several things all at once –

It is possible for rain to fall so hard that you feel a curtain has been drawn around you.

It is possible to NOT be able to see the lights of a long-haul truck directly behind you.

It is possible to across 3 lanes of interstate safely even when you are driving blind.

And most importantly, it is possible to see and not miss a rural exit – a road that leads to four blocks of town silent and asleep except for one unforgettable cafe.

The dash from car to entrance was short but drenching. Stepping across the doorway, was like passing into another world. The front door sat at a kitty corner angle to the interior. A long and worn out counter with black Naugahyde stools took up the side facing the door. In back, partially visible through the pass-through, was the kitchen. Sagging booths lined the window wall to the right of the entrance. We made our way to one of these booths.

After settling into the dubious, but gratefully received, comforts of the booth, I took a look around. A black and white check floor, tiles cracked, broken, or just plain missing, was over-run with water dripping from a sagging, broken ceiling near the entrance. It was hard to imagine the ceiling surviving the night. Strategically placed buckets caught rain as it dripped in. A tired waitress who looked as old and worn out as the building itself brought a coffee and a drawling hello. Two men sat at the counter, locals by the looks of them and refuges from the deluge just like us.

Weather in Texas has a particular significance. Radios, AM and FM, regularly tune in with weather updates in between country western music or a midnight talk radio host, mainly Christian hellfire.

The waitress allowed that we could get most current updates of weather from a phone call to the Texas Highway Patrol. Twenty-seven years ago, portable phones were as big as a regular phone and we definitely did not have one. What the cafe DID have was an old fashion wall phone – drop in two dimes please – and an instant connection to weather central.

I will never forget the interior quiet of the cafe. The locals knew each other but no one spoke to anyone else. Each sat separate from each other, lost in their own little world. They didn’t even pay much attention to us. I remember noting this lack of curiosity about us and it wasn't until years later that I learned about very, very small town life and the prevalent attitude of MYOB. After all, we were merely strangers taking temporary shelter and would be on our way soon enough. And so it was. An hour later, the storm had passed over us and to the west and we passed on to the east, leaving not even a memory behind us.

Morning Sky I

2007-11-07T09:24:00.000-08:00

Fall/Winter is the time of year when the sky is different every morning and changes throughout the day. This morning I stepped out and found this sky greeting my day. I decide right then to post the sky from this point several times a week. So here, without further ado is my morning hello to you.

One Deep Breath - Loneliness

2007-11-05T09:58:00.000-08:00

Di'mond hardness chokes,
Weighed breath forages within,
Lonely ache waiting.

2007-11-02T08:48:00.000-07:00

Mysterious world,
Wonders, curiosities,
Walking through wide passages,
Walls too far to reach.
What fun to twirl and dance
Lean through walls -
Reach for what lay on the other side -
Crushed leaves
Wafts of smoke
Incense of autumn dreams
Looking back. Youth gone.
Younger days ahead.
Passages widen,
Walls crumble,
Joy and dreams wave a greeting.
A step.
A leap.
A flight
into the end of the beginning.
Or is it simply the beginning of
A new beginning?
No matter -
I wave back.

Remembering George in Prayer

The Best Laid Non-Plans

2007-11-01T08:43:00.000-07:00

Halloween has slowed down at our house considerably on a couple of levels - 1.) our kids are grown and mainly gone; and 2.) the location of our home does not foster a lot of door knocking and bell ringing.

Krista had this plan to hand out candy this year - she and Tanner in costume ready to say hello to the princesses and warrior and goblins and ghouls that might land at our door. Reality took her off to Starbucks to balance her checkbook and then home early after the misadventure of bad coffee (at Starbucks????) and the lack of a pen.

No one had come to our door yet so off she went to Pet Extreme with Tanner to return an item. No soon was she gone than the kiddies started arriving. And of course, not too much later we got a call from Kris say she was heading over to Meg and Art's house but she would not be late. Door answering was now in our hands. uh huh.

I took first shift but 30 minutes later DH took over and THAT is when the fun started. Don can strike some people as sort of a dour and serious guy if you don't know him. But there is something about October 31st and all that changes. DH loves the holidays. He decorates. He goes all out on gifting. He doesn't buy the cheap candy. He takes every opportunity that comes his way to be spontaneous. Don spontaneous????? Oh yeah. The king of think it out and look before you leap can really get into the swing of it with the best of them.

A first that happened this year was a hay wagon and horses all lit up in fairy lights going around our neighborhood. The wagon was filled with laughing children and after the last knock at our door apparently the wagon rolled through again. Next thing I know, I'm hearing lots of goofy laughter and shouting going on in front of our house. I amble out and what do I see but Don giving out the rest of our candy to the kids in the wagon (thank you God, no one else knocked) and one little goblin, in the excitement of the moment, asked DH if she could have the pumpkin bucket. MORE laughter as the bucket changed ownership. DH was the hit of the night and for a moment he was the Kandy King.

I love October 31st through January 1st. There is always something funny happening with my man and each year is different.

Remembering George in Prayer

Pictures from Stock.xchng

From time to time I write here about . . .

2007-10-30T09:48:00.000-07:00

. . . weight-loss. I've been stalled lately which is pretty typical of my weight-loss efforts. Fortunately, my stalled has been more like a holding pattern. I didn't put on much more than a couple of pounds and that is gone now.I'm on my way down again and feeling very positive. I've been to Jenny Craig every week for a weigh-in except when I was out of town and a couple of times I slept in. Since sleeping in is a rare event for me, I just laid back and enjoyed it.

This past Saturday I walked in feeling expectant and sure enough, I had lost a pound. That puts me at 23.8 lbs lost since March. It could have been a lot more but I'm not beating myself up over this. It is 23.8 lbs. I will NEVER see again. I am looking forward to Saturday and another loss. I would love to see a solid 25 gone. That number has been eluding me since August. I think Nov. 3rd will be my day.

In fact, I think that just as October was a difficult month for me, November is going to be a wonderful month. This is the year I turn 60. Hard as that is to imagine, it really is going to happen. This morning I was thinking about turning 60 and how I've been dreading it. Then I found myself acknowledging that 60 was going to get here whether I dreaded it or not. SO - I decided to celebrate it.

Like weight loss, my attitude is something that is completely under my control. My birthday present to myself is to lose 5 more pounds between now and the 18th. My first gift to me will be reaching the great 25 lb. number this Saturday. After that, I'll tackle the rest and get rid of 3-5 more by the 17th (just in time for my birthday the next day). Yeah!!

Remembering George in prayer

Writers Island - Haunted

2007-10-29T19:06:00.000-07:00

Hallow's eve embraces
All Souls who sleep
Under earth and graces.
Nature enriches and heals
Those who reach and rise to
Everlasting life on the
Day of the Feast of All Saints.

Writer's Island - The Stranger

2007-10-26T08:37:00.000-07:00

This past year an unknown person rose up and saluted me. She looked around - casual and relaxed. The chain that held her back had snapped. It wasn't the only chain holding her back but what she learned from working with the binding links taught her the lessons she needed to deal with the remaining chains.

The stranger who emerged wasn't entirely unknown. Many of her aspects were familiar and not unwelcome. But beneath the padded exterior, the stranger reared up and demanded admittance to the light, whispering words shouting, "Listen to me. Hear me." The stranger revealed her hidden sides - poet, artist, dreamer, gatherer.

The stranger appeared seven months ago. In that time layers of fear and doubt have eroded and dissolved. Protective padding has slipped away. harping voices have come, gone, come and gone again and always the stranger gained strength.

She looked through my eyes and examined the world in a newer way. The gentle prodding and urging of the stranger helped to release, to let go of the chains of material possessions. The stranger's mission - to show what is important, what to keep and what to say good-bye to. But most importantly, what to say hello to and welcome.

The Journey Home - Part II

2007-10-24T22:02:00.000-07:00

October 20th

A week ago I had a long talk with Fr. Sal. Much musing and journaling later, I discover that I can see a sort of timeline in my Catholic life.

1947-71 Actively church-going
1971-75 Slipping to nothing
1975-76 Nothing. I'm divorced. This is no place for me.
1976-81 Baha'i Faith is my new home.
1981-85 Nothing

Catholics fall away from their faith for countless reasons. I've always thought that leaving the Church had to be much more traumatic then say a Methodist moving to Presbyterian or Lutheran. Based on comments from my last post, I've discovered that this is not necessarily true but there is something very wrenching and mind-altering when a Catholic goes in another direction. The phrase "Once a Catholic, always a Catholic" in deeply ingrained in our psyche.

I grew up with an Italian Catholic mother and a non-Catholic, once divorced dad. Mom and dad, of course, were not married in the Church because of his divorce. It was this shadow, this hurt, that I grew up with and it influenced me in ways I did not understand until divorce visited me in 1975. But still, I grew up Catholic and dad was there with us at Mass whenever he was home. Mom was always at Mass even though she did not receive the sacraments. Dad would always make sure I was at religious education classes whenever he was home from overseas. By the time I was in high school, he was more often there but even then, this post-Navy job with Corrections would take him away firefighting in summer and fall.

Vatican II was three years old by the time I graduated from high school and the Latin Mass was no more. The 60's were a changing time for everyone in our society and its institution. And so it was that the Church was still feeling its way along through its own changes.

The first of the most obvious physical changes was the placement of a small portable altar at the front of the sanctuary. With the placement of this altar, the priest turned around, faced the congregation, and spoke in ENGLISH. I don't know who was more disconcerted - the priest of the congregation.

Fast forward to 1985. I've divorced, I've remarried, I've had two children. I've been away from the Church for about 15 years and the Baha'i Faith just was not speaking to me anymore than any of the more recognisable Christian religions. That phrase "once a Catholic, always a Catholic" was echoing loudly and clearly and insistently. I knew I had to find my way home.

It was in 1985 in San Jose, CA that I saw a billboard on the road not far from my house. It was simply a beautiful portrait of Christ and the word "I'm calling you". I nearly ran off the road. The next day I was at Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral. I was taking my first steps to finding my way home.

October 22nd

Fast forward 22 years -

Yesterday I attended a Latin Mass and I felt so at home. I don't think it is any accident that this happened on the same Sunday, a year later, of my mom's death. To me, this is clearly more symbolism of a return, of a completed cycle. Today, October 22nd, is the actual day but during the month of October I will always remember that Sunday around that date as the day I last held her hand. Life is a circle and I think there must be some meaning in returning to the Latin Mass.

My conversation with Fr. Sal was very satisfying in a couple of ways but this discussion of the Mass and its symbols left me disappointed.

Unity is missing
I miss
Bell
Covered heads
Standards of dress
The crucifix
Altar servers on the altar
The Tabernacle (the Lord's place) at eh center
with the symbol of His sacrifice (the crucifix)
nearby.

I miss the changing vestments
our old symbol of the progression of the church year;

The countless little things, one of which was
the Secret in the old Mass -
the prayer of the celebrant during consecration;

The sense of reverence -
that hidden but seen moment of the
conversion of bread and wine to Body and Blood;

The reading on the right,
The gospel on the left;
The sermon at the lectern.

I want and need these symbols. They provide focus and a flow that more and more feels interrupted today. If the focus is supposed to be the altar and the lectern, the places where we hear "The word of the Lord", why don't I know this? Why don't WE know this? DO we know this? Are our children taught this? Mine weren't. Did Catechism skate over this? I have no answer for these questions. All I know for sure is that if the altar and lectern are supposed to be the focus then we have lost something very important.

I always heard the Word - In the midst of our symbols, I never missed the Word. Now I feel like I am experiencing Mass Lite and a series of vocal distractions punctuated by frequently bad music.

I find that I am rambling in these thoughts but it reflects how I feel about where the Mass has gone. We all understood the Latin but then the walls of language appeared. The hearing, seeing, and fragrance of the Mass has disappeared. Senses are not engaged anymore. Like poetry - it needs its richness to retain its beauty and meaning.

Yesterday, some of that richness returned. I felt in a loosely wrapped blanket of symbolism that guided me and held my heart. I felt in complete communion with those who shared the Mass with me. There was a flow and an understanding that ever after 40 years could not be lost. The loosely packed layers of change were only gently tamped down. Like the swipe of a cleansing cloth, I felt the unifying Mass sink back into my heart; into my bones. The distractions were gone; the not knowing where to look was gone; the symbols were there and they drew me back into the Mass in a way that I thought had been lost forever.

So now - today - I wonder a bit where this will take me. I know that Don is entirely happy. He will be there. Krista was with us and I hope she will come again sometime. I feel the pull of my community of many years - All Saints - and for the time being I will be there whenever I'm scheduled to serve at Mass. But, more and more I think that my time there is drawing to a close. Over all these years, I haven't really made connection with the community. I have individuals I care about but I don't need All Saints to maintain and nurture these connections.

I respect Fr. Sal and I like his speaking style. No question - each week his homily is relevant to the readings and the gospel. Fr. Sal gave me some good guidelines for examination of conscience. He will not be a bad confessor. However, that being said, my future with Mass is deeply attached and entrenched in my past and my journey home is now leading me in that direction.

I can't seem to stop saying it but here it is again.

Life is a circle.

The Journey Home - Part I

2007-10-22T16:34:00.000-07:00

October 18th

I haven't done much posting or reading of blogs recently and I've noticed that many of you are semi-hibernating too. I've managed a few bits here but not much in the way of poetry has been emerging. It is definitely the Fall seasons and as things slow down, I find myself traveling inward again. But while my fingers here may be slowing down, my mind has been going lickityslip. I've been blogging now for 19 months and I am discovering that writing has its own rhythm just as the seasons do. I've noticed less traffic to my blog but then I have not been visiting as regularly either. My thoughts and activities have been quieter.

I wonder if this quiet has come over me because of my mother's death? Next Monday the 22nd will be the one year anniversary of her passing. October this year has visited us with the news of George's returned melanoma and now Quanah and Erin's decision to pick up their lives and return prematurely to Oregon where Erin can be near her brother and family for the time he may have left. These three things weigh heavily on my heart and all I can do is pray for a good conclusion for all concerned. I pray for healing, new teachers for Bishop Loers School and jobs for Erin and Q.

I am also praying for a peaceful good-bye to my mom from Krista and also for Krista's return to Mass if not necessarily the Sacraments right now. She's like her father in that way. Perhaps if she has a lifetime in her future with Chad, that will change. Don certainly has become more able to articulate his deepest thoughts over these last 29 years. I'm still surprised though when he opens up in a big way. So - back to Kris - I pray she finds some closure and peace with her grandmother's death. I know she has been avoiding thoughts of her passing and the pain she felt. Coming six years after my dad's death, it has been a lot for her to digest. Add to that the death of a high school from by suicide and the death of Aaron, the son of our closest family friend, it has not been easy. All of this happening during her teen years to early young adult years has been a lot to deal with. I never had to endure this sort of pain in my youth.

Interestingly, my mother DID and so now has Kris. Did it skip a generation, this suffering, confusion, and sadness? So it would seem. But for me, my fate seems to be the requirement to be strong for others. I gladly accept that and hope that with maturity, Kris will have the strength and wisdom to eventually do the same when life calls on her to be strong again.

And speaking of deepest thoughts and Don, this turn of season has me reflecting on faith, reverence, and devotion again. Like this seasons, this comes in a cycle for me too and each turn I feel I come a bit closer to being centered and at peace.

I have had two things on my mind lately

1. The Sacrament of Reconciliation and
2. The altar free-for-all that plagues the Church these days.

I am a Catholic of a certain age and can clearly remember the Latin Mass. We lost the Latin Mass in 1962 just as I was entering high school so I an recall the change back to its beginning. Forty-five years later, what seemed like a good idea has actually become a divisive and great disappointment.

October 18th

I remember

The scent of incense

Burning candles reflecting

red and lights embrace.

The hush before Mass

reverence that is missing

Yearning for return.

I remember

Bowed heads, hats removed

Black mantilla covering hair

Modesty, good sense

Faces were well-known

Even those without a name

All met with greetings.

We shared something

in common -

The Mass

I remember

Seasonal vestments

Colors that changed with the

Church calendar.

Or, with mourning

Celebrations, and

Holy Days.

I remember

Confession on Wednesdays and Saturdays

When we had more priest,

Enough priests,

A surplus of priests.

60 Minutes Last Night

2007-10-22T16:23:00.000-07:00

If you did not catch 60 Minutes last night, then please follow this link to THE most exciting nutritional news story I've ever heard. I promise - you will not be disappointed.

Writer's Island - Message in a Bottle

2007-10-17T16:29:00.001-07:00

Booties for Babies

2007-10-15T15:14:00.001-07:00

As many of you know, last year I put out a request for woolies for the children of the orphanage in Ghor, Afghanistan. The response was so generous, so overwhelming. I ended up sending NINE big boxes of scarves, mittens, hats and gloves, underwear, soap and personal products to Frida – see Frida’s Notebook.

Last week, I started thinking about the kids again as I was looking at Frida’s Portraits of Afghanistan site and noticed the bare feet of many of the little ones. Granted, they were inside and it’s just starting to get cold, but that little inner voice started whispering to me again. No sooner did I have the thought than I was sending off an email to Frida (again) this time about the need for baby booties and her response was a definite “yes”.

Frida will be confirming an APO address with a U.S. soldier who will receive the booties and hand them off to Frida. The soldier is also in Ghor so there will not be any time delay in getting the booties delivered to her.

Unlike last year, I think the mailing can be done directly to the APO address. A medium size padded envelope will hold a lot of little booties. The expense will not be substantial since it is going to an APO and deliveries will go out more quickly.

So this is a call to all you knitters and crocheters out there who could whip out a few 100% wool and/or washable wool booties. We are asking for wool because they provide the warmth that acrylics just won’t provide.

Also, like last year, I would like to keep track of who is participating so I can send you a thank you and let Frida know. If you would drop me a line and let me know if you plan to participate and then let me know when you are ready to mail out the booties, I will send you the address. I would really appreciate it. I will post when I have the address as soon as I hear back from Frida.

My thanks to all and my wishes for a huge success as was had last year.

Renewal Series - III

2007-10-12T08:46:00.000-07:00

III

I am overtaken by time;
Now in a bind.
Late night plans to dine
Might have been fine.
But sight is hind
And my thoughts are not kind.
Migrating birds create a line.
Observe formation. Which spot is mine?

Half past nine,
No need to pine.
Tasting brie’s smooth rhine;
It’s a sign!
Lift the tine
Holding fruit of the vine
And sip the wine
Of freedom’s time.

Remembering George in prayer

Don says it all

2007-10-10T09:12:00.000-07:00

I thought I would let Don have his say here today. Don loves to write trip reports. His memory for detail is phenomenal. There is a reason I take pictures and he writes reports. Between the two of us, we get it all. So, without further ado, The Calabash/Santa Rosa trip report.

According to the Random House College Dictionary, which I have from my military days and has “Property of the U.S. Government” printed on the front of it, the definition of calabash is “any of various gourds, esp. the fruit of the bottle gourd.” Hence the name of an annual display of gourd art in Santa Rosa, which is described on the event program as “a celebration of gourds, art and the garden. For you non-Californians, Santa Rosa is above San Francisco in the hills protected by the coastline mountains.

Once again we visited one of Annie’s blog friends as the friend is an artist and had an entry in the gourd art competition. The event was only on Sunday afternoon, but we decided to go up on Saturday to visit and spend the night.

Leaving at around nine in the morning, Annie began to phone Lea to give her progress reports on our travel as we were to lunch at her home. Travel was good that time of the day through the valley, over the hills, through the flatlands (Did you think I was going to say, “dales”?,) into the east Bay Area, up to the northeast Bay Area, over the Richmond San Rafael Bridge and onto the main artery connecting points of the Bay Area from the south to north of San Francisco. It got touchy at that point, with slow down and speed up traffic due to drivers in the left lane not keeping up with the traffic and vehicles which had a problem maintaining speed over the hills and around curves because of the vehicle itself or the drivers’ lack of ability. Anyway we did arrive in time for lunch.

Upon finding the street address, we looked up at a hundred year old house on a corner lot. Once inside of the white picket fence, Anne immediately began to inspect the labyrinth laid out in the front yard. Lea is a labyrinth designer. I inspected the very old fascinating tree on the other side of the yard. It is twisted and has holes in it. Lea came out to a variety of questions. The tree is home to squirrels. The pet dog also came out. She is a small Belgium breed called a Schipperke that work on the canal barges, with a short and thick coat of hair that sheds water and a face that reminded me of a small wolf.

Following Lea and Nicky into the house, we discovered a work-of-art home. There were not only works of art, but also items from various parts of the world she and her husband have traveled to. This and that wall was painted a bright color, but blended in so as not to be confronting. I hurried into the bathroom, to discover upper walls and ceiling of blue sky and lower walls of stucco over brick design with framed prints to match the theme. One wall had a timeline chart of Shakespeare’s accomplishments posted on it. The rest of the house held antiques, including a very old school house desk complete with the inkwell. It was adult size.

While Lea and Annie were preparing BLTs, (picture compliments of Lea) the husband of the home arrived. Milt is a quiet, thoughtful, analytical person. This serves him well as he is a neuro-psychologist. For example, if a person has received brain damage, Milt will test and scan and interview and pull information from the person’s medical records. Once the research is completed, he gives his report accessing the functional results of the damage and recommendations for treatment. He was busy sending off a report that morning.
During the preparations, Annie discovered that the tomatoes were bright red and smelled good. She tried one. It was delicious by her standards and she does not eat tomatoes. She gives them to me. These were garden fresh organic.

While the ladies worked, Milt and I sat and discussed some points of the War Between the States as he also enjoys history and has many publications concerning Lincoln. He posts the historical charts in the bathroom for study.

Lunch was served at the breakfast nook, under a light fixture as old as the house (and it was really pretty. I wish I had gotten a picture of it) . It was very ornate and beautiful, while the BLTs were good and filling. Lunch discussion concerned local history, including the town rebuilding after the 1996 earthquake. The rebuilding destroyed some old architecture, including the court house. So now the downtown has utilitarian buildings instead of admirable buildings. Lunch was completed by servings of various deserts. Lea enjoyed the way my face came alive at the presentation of one which is like a sugared unleavened bread.

After lunch, Lea and Milt left for an event and we were invited to stay and enjoy the back yard labyrinth. This one was completed with brick laid out in a circular, Oriental design. One may walk the path and mediate on the seven energy points of the body. Annie walked. I took photos. I also observed that the yard included touches of art by way of sculptures and various types of benches. We left through the gate and headed for the Charles M. Schulz Museum. Remember Peanuts, Charlie Brown, Snoopy?

While Schulz started out in life as a Minnesotan, he ended up a Californian. The museum is a biography of both his development and that of the Peanuts cartoon. After serving in WWII in Europe, he taught art for a while. Some of his follow teachers were Charlie Brown and Linus. Articles from his studio office have been set up for display. There are also displays of cartoons with narrative explaining how he happen to come up with the idea for that particular one, i.e. Snoopy’s airplane adventures began after Schulz’s son showed him an airplane model he had made.

Snoopy himself was inspired by the pet black and white dog that Schulz had as a boy. Many of the story lines came from his family and friends and their daily lives. The “little red haired girl” came from a young lady he had dated in his early days. He passed over just before a nation wide tribute was to be paid to him by the country’s cartoon artists. The plan was to have all cartoonists submit a cartoon tribute to him and they all were to be published on the same Sunday. The tribute was still accomplished. They are on display also. Some artists, whose work did not show up in the funny paper, i.e. Disney artists, paid tribute by producing one-of-a-kind pieces of tribute art.

The man brought part of his native state to California. He established a skating rink, at which the annual seniors’ hockey championships are held. He of course was always one of the skating seniors. The rink is open on a daily bases and one may take a refreshment brake in the “Warm Puppy Café”. It is named after one of his cartoons concerning love being a warm puppy, which occurred after he obtained his very own puppy to love. For the grand opening, he invited famous skaters to participate, which they did and the autographs are in sections of concrete in the front grounds of the rink.

Of course there is a gift shop, which also has displays in a loft area: displays such as stuffed Snoopy dolls in various costumes. Peanuts lunch boxes and books may also be viewed. One section is devoted to skating and hockey equipment and clothing. We found a snow globe for our “little red haired girl”, Krista.

Outside of the three buildings; museum and rink and gift shop, are gardens. One of the gardens is in the shape of Snoopy’s head and in a labyrinth design. Guess who the designer is.
For more information go on-line to http://www.schulzmuseum.org/.

I had planned to visit the remains of the Jack London house and museum, out in a range reserve named after the author. However time did not allow for the out-of-town drive and visit as we needed to check into the hotel and freshen up for super at Lea and Milt’s.

We had investigated the possibility of having a bed-and-breakfast room, but they were all booked up as were the Best Western and other hotels. We reserved a room at the Days Inn. Many hotels in town are older buildings, including the Days Inn. The lobby and dining areas have been refurbished and the rooms are neat and clean with standard amenities. Arriving at five, we were there two hours after the start of check-in time and the clerk had to check to make sure the room was available. The other issue was a party taking place in a banquet room, behind the office. Our room was to be one in a separate building, but facing the office area. This meant that the music, from the party, would be bouncing off of the building that our room would be in. Between one clerk checking availability and the other clerk asking me if I had plans to be out until around ten or ten thirty and not explaining about the music, I looked him in the eye and asked, “Are you telling me that you do not have a room ready for me yet?!” He immediately stated that they did indeed have a room and then explained the music situation. Since we would be going out till late, I gave the okay.

Refreshed and rested and after receiving an example of the bass music coming to visit, we left the room and went on our way to supper. Lea had placed a tray of cheese and checkers and had wine ready. I received dark ale. Lea had previously questioned Annie on our likes and dislikes. We gathered around the coffee table and waited for the lamb leg to finish in Milt’s rotisserie.
Soon we were gathered around the dining room table and passing dishes of lamb, mint jelly, little potatoes and salad. At the start of the meal, Milt explained what a neuro-psychologist does. We also found out that they have a son. He is currently in Europe working on an atom colliding project.

A phone call from Quanah began playing music on Annie’s cell phone. He was phoning to give us an update on his brother-in-law, George. Two life events had recently occurred for George; he had just returned from his honeymoon and he discovered that his dormant melanoma, from two years previous, had come back in a ravaging attack. Quanah informed us that George has nine to twelve months left here. Quanah and Erin have made the decision to resign their positions in Fort Wayne and move to Oregon at the end of the year. They will have support from her family and their networks for finding housing and new positions. Preparations have already begun.

Basically everyone agrees that the move is impractical, but it is what they need to do. They were planning on maybe eventually moving to Oregon anyway. They were also planning on purchasing a house in Fort Wayne. Anyway they are just making the move a lot earlier then expected.

The topic of conversation, after the phone call, was that of explanation and feelings. Lea and Annie had a bond before we arrived there. Those two were like old friends. Lea stated that the bond was now stronger due to our family situation entering at their dining table.

We moved on to how Quanah happen to be named such. This lead into a review of my family history and story telling. The story telling included how Lea and Milt found each other. He is from Pennsylvania and she from right there. By that time, we were up to dessert. Berry cobbler! Lea had found out from Annie that I enjoy cobbler. It had the perfect flavor and crunch. The sad part is that I had two helpings of tasty lamb and reached the full mark before I desired to. Cobbler was followed by coffee made in Milt’s espresso machine. Lattes all around.

Coffee was followed by Lea taking Annie through a mental labyrinth of art work and the house, while Milt and I continued to discuss my history and genealogy research. He has not begun his yet. However this was interrupted by Annie wanting to show me something she wants me to make for her. She and Lea took me to the tall spice rack in the hall between the kitchen and the mud room back porch entrance. There is also a fruit cellar. Anyway…Annie wants me to put together such a structure for her nick knacks and place it in the front hallway. So just how big can I make it and get rid of some of those storage boxes. Floor to ceiling and from the front door to the study door. I see a vision. (Annie is thrilled! but we will need to discuss details as the project approaches)

I was beginning to fade. Milt was showing signs of fading. And I think that as much fun as the ladies were having, they were fading too.

The music was no more and the bed comfortable. Enough said.

Morning saw the usual routine of Annie rising first bright eyed and bushy tailed, while I slowly rolled out of bed later. We were scheduled to meet Lea and Milt at a restaurant downtown, but that was late morning. We watched Dirty Jobs just for laughs as I reviewed the Map Quest printout for going out to Forestville that afternoon.

The restaurant, “Worth Our Weight”, was easy to find. Here's a little blurb I found about the place.

Best Unheralded Chef In the early to mid '90s, Evelyn Cheatham operated Tweet's restaurant in Mendocino, and folks still talk about her carrot soup, rosemary scones, potato tarts, and other dishes. Food writer Michele Anna Jordan says Cheatham "has a style that is both robust and delicate, and she could clearly join the ranks of celebrity chefs if she was so inclined." Instead, Cheatham decided to work with troubled youth. She's now chef at Sonoma County Juvenile Hall and is slowly building WOW (Worth Our Weight), a cooking school for young people. For the past 12 years, she has cooked and delivered meals on Christmas day for homeless groups, battered women's groups, children's shelters, and families down on their luck. The meal is not funded by any organization. It's just a labor of love by Cheatham and her friends.--M.W.

Lea came out and greeted us. The food is set up buffet style with a variety of dishes. Some are simple and mainstream, i.e. ham, while others are not, i.e. hominy in a green sauce or a fresh vegetable cake. There is also a variety of desserts and drinks. The restaurant is open only for Sunday brunch and provides a catering service the rest of the week. The owner, Evelyn, not only is a working chef, but also a chef trainer. She gives back to the community by providing a training opportunity for “troubled youth”. The cost for the all-you-can-eat self-serve meal is a flat $15.00 cash per person. The patrons are helping to support the training program. Money well spent. Evelyn herself came around to greet her customers, in her white chef’s uniform. Most of the customers are also friends.

Between bites, Annie stated that she had noticed the Luther Burbank house and gardens as we drove to the restaurant. Lea suggested that we go through the gardens, before leaving town for Forestville. To me, the name was one of those that seem familiar, but not quite enough to know who the person actually was.

Luther Burbank was a late nineteenth and early twentieth century world-famous horticulturist. He worked with both flowers and vegetables developing hybrids. Some believe that he had a special understanding of plant life and nature. Only part of the original acreage, of his property, is left. After he began to develop our Lord’s gardens, much of the property was transferred to a Missouri based research nursery company. What is now left was maintained by his widow, who was forty years younger, until she reached the status of senior citizen. At that point, she donated the property to the Santa Rosa Historical Society. She reserved the right to live in the house, which she did until her passing. The property then transferred to the city of Santa Rosa itself and is maintained today as an educational experience. If one enters http://www.lutherburbank.org/ into a search engine, one will find the web page for the City of Santa Rosa Parks and Recreation with the Luther Burbank Park site window.

The current property takes up half of the block, which appears twice as long then it is wide, on a main street running from the south part of town to the north, after changing street names. It is surrounded by private residences.

The building on the opposite corner looks like a hotel out of a wild, west movie. (Annie is sad that she did not get a picture of this building) It is long, brown building, with wipe-around porches both downstairs and upstairs. An outside stairs connect to two stories. Outside doors provide entry into the rooms or apartments.

One may enter the grounds through the main entrance or one of the side entrances of the white picket fence, which the city asks for volunteers to maintain. The plant life ranges from very tall trees to small flowers. They are various shapes and sizes and colors. Some are arranged in garden areas and some are in long planter boxes close to the greenhouse. I have no idea what is what, except for the roses, only that I enjoyed the beauty of nature. That includes the largest cactus I have ever seen. It was one mother plant with shoots taking up an area of approximately twenty feet by sixty and maybe twelve feet high. Once I had walked over to the other side, I discovered enough open space at ground level to afford a person stepping area while bending over to sit in the shade of the plant. There is also some very tall picky pear cactus as well.

While Annie was photo shooting, I noticed a squirrel scamper across the pathway and into the plant area we were by. The area had small trees, bushes and flowers. The squirrel found a spot behind a tree to have an early afternoon snack. Annie immortalized the squirrel from three different angles. There were also bees and small butterflies with bee like color. Both flew from flower to flower sometimes separately and sometimes together. Some of the areas had arbors constructed in them. Annie began photo compositions utilizing the arbors, including of me.
By that time, we were at the carriage house, which serves as a gift shop. This carriage house was small and simple compared to some. But then the house itself is also small compared to some estates. I am thinking that both met the requirements of the couple and the main interest was not the house, but the gardens and green house.

There was entertaining at times, such as during the Panama-Pacific International Exposition in San Francisco in this month ninety-two years ago. Two of the guests were Thomas Edison and Henry Ford.

After purchasing a booklet on the place, I ended up having a seat. Annie discovered a hat in a bag. The brim of the hat contains a bendable wire just like a vehicle windshield shade that has the wire edge and performs a tri-fold to become a small round shape. She asked if she should buy one and I replied that she did not have a decent shade hat. Next came the selection of fit and colors. That done we returned to the main entrance of the white picket fence.

I drove north and west on the city streets and northwest on county roads. I entered the city limits of Forestville while still out on the county road and drove a ways before finding the town itself. The Calabash was easy enough to find, but by then the parking was not. So we hiked in. At the ticket table, I presented the ones we had received in the mail and was given voting slips in return. This enabled us to vote for Lea’s gourd art entry. We also registered for the silent auction on the gourd art just in case.

Standing in a vacant space, we reviewed the surrounding activities; elbow to elbow people, wine slipping, conversations, tall women in face paint, a tent further back, a building to the side. Finding our way over to the gardens and reading the posted information informed me that the garden was part of the Food for Thought organization.

When Annie asked me about attending an event that her artist blog friend had and entry in, I said that was doable. Upon going to the Calabash web site, I discovered that the event is a fund raiser for the Food for Thought organization. It distributes food throughout the country to those with AIDS. The garden was the first learning step in what Food for Thought is and runs along the length of the organization’s grounds.

Annie found Lea and Milt in the shade of a tent structure made from wood and plant materials. Asking a person to take a photo of us, they took two with Annie’s camera and also with Lea’s.
Milt opted to stay put, in the shade, and the three of us began walking around. Lea was always being approached by a friend or acquaintance. She has spent her life there. We investigated the various plant life as a three piece band played. I noticed that there was a flute, drum and string instrument. The drum and string instruments were made from gourds. Once the plants had been investigated, we headed for the tent.

Inside was the gourd art and we commenced to look for Lea’s art. She was in conversation with someone. After a search, Annie spotted it and we voted with the item’s number. After placing the ballots into the jar, we took a closer look at the art. There were very simple pieces to very elaborate. There were various combinations of both surface and layered craving, painting, attachments, cutting and reassembling, cultural themes, representations of real and surreal and meaningful. It was thought provoking.

It seemed as though the number of people had increased inside of the tent and we required air. Outside Annie found the wine and sparkling water. We both took the water.

Next was the investigation of the building. We found that it is the food supply store and distribution center. They had arranged a produce case of bright colored vegetables; reds, yellows, oranges, greens. Photo Op.

By that time, the event was about to come to a close and we were ready to depart. On our way to find Lea and Milt, Annie came across the two tall women in face paint. I realized that they were both men. Annie later told me that they are members of a San Francisco based organization called something “Sisters”. Okay…. (Annie comment – Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence)

Lea and Milt were found and farewells were given.

The drive home was about the same as going, except for the slow drivers leaving ten to twenty vehicle spaces between each other in the northeast part of the Bay Area.

For me the real event of the trip was meeting Lea and Milt and enjoying their company, interests and food. And for that I will always return.

Please remember George in your prayers

Writers Island - Renewal

2007-10-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

Magnolia pod

The following poems are the first in a series of reflections on the hard turns we encounter in life.

I
Someone wants him back,
Won’t give up without a fight.
Love abounds, gives support,
Mary hugs comfort,
No time to weep.

Wedding joy.
Plans for life.
Denial. Will not be ignored.
Mary hugs comfort
Every thought is a prayer.

Darkness gathers.
Vision fights through.
Door to life swings open.
Mary hugs comfort.
No time to weep.

Isolating distance,
Tears won’t build a bridge.
Rivers flow this instance.
Mary hugs comfort,
Every thought is a prayer.

Remembered pain from long year past.
The climb to light paved with broken glass.
Hole in my heart yawns wide and deep,
Mary hugs comfort,
No time to weep.

II

Compassion beats at our door
Demanding entry, forcing its way in.
Winter approaches,
Fall migration drums,
Backs are turning for our returning.

Four hearts at table, voices sparkling;
Brubeck tunes play, harbinger of sorrow.
Warm hand clasps
Binding two hearts forever.

Familiar hole returns
An emptiness that feels so full.
Crowded emotions.
Mental commotions.
Hiding. Seeking. Exerting their pull.

Remember George in prayer

Truer words . . .

2007-10-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

. . . were never spoken.

I had no idea when I posted the bird out on a limb that it would be a foreshadow of something that will be consuming my life for a while. I will be posting about it shortly as well as our beautiful visit with Lea and Milt and the fun of the Calabash Festival. But I'm at work now and have a lot to think about regarding George, friendship, sacrifice, and compassion; not to mention the approaching one year anniversary of the passing of my mother. October is such a beautiful month. After the last few days though, I'm discovering that I will approach next October with a certain degree of dread since trouble always seems to come in threes. In the meantime, here are a few lovely pictures of Santa Rosa, the festival, and a friend.

Beautiful sunshine

Charming Cottages

Nature's Bounty.

Food for Thought

Beautiful Lea with friend, Hesperia

A Helping Hand

A Helping Heart

Living brightly in the world

but also in a world apart.

Please remember George.

Every thought is a prayer

2007-10-05T12:21:00.001-07:00

Sometimes you just have to go out on a limb.

Please remember George today.

Prayers are Requested

2007-10-04T14:28:00.001-07:00

PLEASE REMEMBER GEORGE

I just got a called from Quanah. As you may know, he married this past June. Erin comes from a large family of seven sisters and brothers. They have just learned that her brother George, who has been in remission from melanoma, actively has cancer again. George and his wife Jennifer just married less than a month ago. When they returned from their honeymoon, they had some large bruising on his body checked out. An MRI revealed that the melanoma is back with a vengeance, is very aggressive and has spread to his brain. He is going to start chemo and is on meds to slow the progress but the prognosis is very poor.

I post this here because I have found that you, my dear blogging family, make a very powerful circle of prayer. I believe strongly and completely in the healing power of prayer and ask that you think of George and remember him in your prayers. He and his young wife have the potential for a long and happy life together. God willing, they WILL have that life.

Cooking in the Kitchen with Annie

2007-10-03T08:41:00.000-07:00

Like I said a couple of days ago, I have no great culinary gifts but once in a while I feel the big push to follow a recipe, to face off with myself on a creative food challenge, so to speak. Monday evening I took up that challenge. Here are a few things you should know about my cooking and baking skills before reading any further:

1. No matter how clear the recipe is, I get it wrong;

2. Even if I follow the recipe to the "T", I burn whatever I'm baking;

3. Cookies come out too crisp;

4. My children have no joyful holiday memories of seasonal baking.

So, Fall arrived. I had a new oven. The impulse to cook/bake took over and on Monday after work I made a chicken pot pie.

So - this is pretty unbelievable. My brother bakes. He even makes crust from scratch. My sister bakes, cooks, stews, slices and dices. I - well, I open boxes. So - imagine my surprise when I run across this recipe for CPP and not only am I intrigued by the seeming ease of the recipe, but I felt impelled to alter it.

Call me weird if you want but cooking my chicken in Italian dressing is not my idea of a good seasoning base for a pot pie. So, out went the dressing and in came salt/pepper/extra chicken bouillon, etc. I discovered that using pre-made crust from the deli was a snap and cream cheese in the sauce gives it a subtle flavor extra.

The whole prep process took me less than 30 minutes. I even altered the cooking time and temperature, an unheard of thing for me to do. The recipe said 375 for 30 minutes. The pastry box said 475 til brown. I set the oven for 450 and 20 minutes. The idea was to check the pie after 20 minutes to see how it was looking. Amazing results. So - what do you think?

I'm not at my home computer so don't have the recipe with me. Anyone who would like it, just drop me an email. I will cheerful send it.

Peace On Our Little Piece of Earth

2007-09-30T11:48:00.000-07:00

Over at (Lefthanded Trees), Delia (my new from Bloglandia friend) wrote a piece about autumn and the energized feeling she gets as summer gives way to Fall. The moment I read this, I realized that I too felt more energized with the approach of Fall.

I love the passing of the hot times to the cooler.
I love the rise again of a light breeze against my skin.
I love the cooler early morning air as it fills my lungs,
sometimes touched with the smoky tang of
an early morning fireplace.

I love the unpredictable weather. The forecast may say rain in the northern valley, but, where you are in the northern valley more often than not controls the amount of rain we actually get.

I love rain and I am always hopeful that the storm coming in from the coast will actually make it through the delta and move south to my part of the northern valley. Rain comes up from the south and down from the north with geography playing a big role in whether or not we get much rain. We often seem to be on the outer edge of whatever front is passing our way. Of course, this doesn't mean we don't get a lot of rain. We have had some memorable seasons.

I'll never forget a January a few years ago. It rained non-stop for 30 days. Eleven more and we would have broken the Biblical record. It got pretty soggy that month and even for a rain person like myself, it got to be a bit much.

We lost a lot of trees around campus that month. When I say trees, I'm speaking of mature cedars, pines, and redwoods. That was the January I was in my office and jumped out of my skin as an almighty CRACK!! exploded through the building. I ran out the back door to find five trees down. One went and then took four more with it on its way down.

We were very lucky that day. Classes were already in session for that hour so there were no students on an otherwise busy walkway. A little earlier or a bit later and it could have been a very different story. It took a week to clear the debris.

But, where way I? Oh yes, Fall and feeling energized. Come Fall, I feel like taking walks, sitting on my front porch, delving back into long-term projects. I even feel a bit of interest in cooking and baking. God knows, I have no great culinary gifts but once in a while I feel the big push to follow a recipe, to face off with myself on a creative food challenge, so to speak. I'm sure it has something to do with holidays, birthdays, and all the visual stimulation of the season.

Yesterday was busy for a while. I had to tackle the garage. I'm a hoarder and DH's special escape place was overrun with my stuff. This wasn't so bad when he was working but now he is retired and he wants his shop back. I am forced to at last sort, store and toss. This will bring peace to our little piece of earth and we both get what we both most need - he gets his space back and I get more decluttered and get the remainder out of sight. Along the way I found old comic books that I discovered I had no attachment to anymore. eBay may bring me a windfall. I'll keep my fingers crossed about that.

Clearing out this stuff was good on so many levels.

1. Don's shop is now his space again;
2. A cabinet has been emptied (and refilled);
3. I have less stuff;
4. I have room now to box up loose stuff;
5. And best of all - I have the rest of Fall to concentrate on studying T. S. Elliot, Samuel Coleridge and poetic forms.
6. I don't feel so defeated by the work still ahead of me - yes, DH, I acknowledge that there is more work to be done;
7. I may get more painting accomplished in the kitchen, and;
8. The on-going photo project will get started up again.

Fall is like a season of rebirth for me. Of course that is no doubt directly related to my birthday being in mid-November. Fall is the only time of the year when I like the color orange in all of its varied hues, not just apricot or melon.

I like Fall/Winter gardens. They require so little work, not that I do lots of heavy gardening to begin with. But, in Fall/Winter I don't feel any guilt about neglecting the garden. The garden goes to sleep just as I am waking up from an energy-sapping summer. And this wake-up call is a siren call for me to go to winter beaches - cold, quiet, uninhabited. But that is another story.

*Scenes From A Slowmoving Train*

Signs of Summer's Approach

Benchmarkers

The Future

As we go into the weekend . . .

The Grand Canyon

The Road to Arizona

Writer's Island - Deja Vu

Easter Trip to the Grand Canyon

Limitless Imagination & A Cereal Surprise

Snow Flurries, Friends, and Bloggiversaries

Pretty in Pink

Some things you just KNOW about yourself

Doorways Around the World

Contrition

Books, Books, and more Books

My Etsy is Opened

One Deep Breath - Ink

Around My World Today

Taking Another Step into Firstville

A First and a case of serious nerves

Writer's Island - Bookends and Second Chances

Perched and Liking It

Weight Loss Update, Poetry and Birds Galore

Turning Over A New Leaf

Happy Valentine's Day

Last Evening At Borders

San Francisco Redux

A.M. Courtship

A This and A That

Vote Today

Superbowl and Blonds

Musings and Ducks

It rained. It poured!

Biene's Inspiration

Morning Song

My Other Passion

Into The Evening

Kitchen painting 101

My Peaceable Kingdom

Something totally heartwarming

Strange Sightings and Sitings

Writers' Island - Over the Horizon (behind me)

A Few Things I Found Today . . .

Routines

Taking my tent down for a few days

Moment to Moment

Christmas Hoopla

I Used to Hate Shopping

Stranded in Detroit

San Francisco, There I Went

Deck the Halls, etc. etc.

Crossing the Road

Thoughts on Turning Sixty - Part II

Christmas Traditions

Morning Sky V

Morning Imges

Paying it forward with gratitude

We Gather Together

Winter Haiku and One Deep Breath

On The Road

In Memorium - 1980 - 2007

Update on George

Some Thoughts on Turning 60 - Part I

Writer's Island - The Dream

Winter Heart

Class Reunion

How slowly would I like to live my life?

Morning Sky III

Twilight

A couple of tags

Ice Leaf Haiku

Tanner at Play

Writer's Island - Unforgettable - Part Two

Morning Sky II

Booties for Babies Update

Writer's Island - Unforgettable - Part One

Morning Sky I

One Deep Breath - Loneliness

The Best Laid Non-Plans

Scenes From A Slowmoving Train