October Fire

Moby - Summer

I know it's fall, and currently it is actually more early winteresque in temperatures...

I get that....

......and I miss summer anyway...

This is all instrumental so it could also be titled 'Chillz for a Evening By Yourself' and it'd fit.

Unwind and Forget in Paint

A former teacher colleague of mine bailed out on education altogether and bought an art gallery.  She is now offering classes to have a local artist walk participants through a painting.  This was therapeutic and a way to get 'lost' for awhile.  I might have stumbled across something I will do more.  I liked getting lost.

Fridge Poetry Friday and a Tune

Can not get this song out of my head these days.  Coldplay is incredible in concert, and this song is a unifying almost spiritual experience when thousands are singing, 'lights will guide you home/ and ignite your bones/ and I will try to fix you' in unison.

Brand Spankin' New

On the last morning of the beach trip, I finally got up early enough to catch the whole sunrise.  In fact, I was up before the sun.  It was still silky black speckled with stars.  Carrying a towel to stretch out, my camera bag and coffee, I tiptoed my way across the mist-damp shore. Sinking into the chilly sand, I reclined back and propped on the backpack like a pillow.  I was the only one out there - so quiet.  I spotted a shooting star and two satellites.  It was a time to talk to God and sing without fear anyone would hear me.

Recalling the night of graduation, I pulled up this song and watched as dawn cracked the lid on the horizon, a copper glow to begin the day:

Here's a glimpse of the beauty in progress.  I was joined by a lone day greeter.

I loved this particular shot with all the lines...

...and fond of this one with the inky clouds smudging the glossy sand.

New perspective

Each in their own moment

Night passes the baton to day

In his element (lone stranger fisherman)

This one was a mistake...and turned out to be beautiful, just like so many things in life...

Here it comes...

I switched to my long lens, and this song...

Love the splashes gilded in sunrise.

Finally, I think I played this song over and over watching the rest of the wonderment unfold:

 The Lord's unfailing love and mercy still continue,
     Fresh as the morning, as sure as the sunrise.
Lamentations 3:22,23

This translation is my favorite.  The One that has my heart created this.  Amazing.

Watch Out

Walking along the beach one morning, I encountered a couple directly in front of me as they came out from under the pass-thru at the pier.  The husband said something to me, his wife clutching his right arm.  I drew a little closer and popped out an ear bud.

"What was that?", I asked.

"Watch out under the pier.", he replied.

"There's a man under there.  Probably (nearly whispering this next word) homeless."


By now we had passed each other, so I turned to thank them and continued on.  When he'd first said 'watch out' I thought there might be a hole, or a pile of broken glass, something that poised to cause me immediate bodily harm.  What I found was injuring - to my heart and my spirit.

This man, this homeless man lay curled up on his side against one of the wave worn support beams of the pier.  He was just beside the path for those passing under, sound asleep.  I walked slowly, and in that moment he reminded me of a precious child.  He was probably in his late 30's or 40's, although it is hard to know the extent a hard life has on one's appearance.  He looked like a sleeping child, wild brown hair askew, and he was tucked inward, arms completely inside his thin, dishwater-colored plain tee.  He had pulled it up around the bottom of his face to block out the chilly October air.  His clompy work boots were off, standing together neatly below him on the sand.  Socks the shade of his tee shirt, baggy and loose, the elastic gone a long time ago sagged from the end of his feet.  Beside him, a pile of empty chip bags and I had to wonder where he might have gotten them.  I felt I was walking through his living room.  All his worldly possessions surrounded him - a faded red box (maybe a lunch box or storage?) and a rattly old bicycle leaning against the same post where he pressed his back and slept.

I kept walking, but as is often the case when I encounter something like this, I was so moved that it hurt. What could I do?  I had nothing on me but a room key and phone.  I started to plan to head to the condo quickly and gather things to bring back to him, but the tide was coming in, and soon he would have to relocate or find himself in rising water.  I turned again to look his way, and saw a man bend down and move the man's box and shoes.  They were too close to the tide creeping closer.

For this, my faith was somewhat restored in humankind.  I was still wrestling with the couple that 'warned' me of this possible 'danger'.  Maybe I was reading too much into their reaction, but the more I thought about it, the more it burned my chaps.  I had to grasp and tend to my own judgements rising up within me, fighting an attitude of indignation toward people like this, often well-meaning folks, even people of faith that I have encountered that perceive people  that are different or less fortunate than them as just that - less.  I have no idea where this couple's beliefs or ideals stem from, or whether they were of any particular faith at all.  I didn't know them so it was an unfair appraisal, but this ugly bit of 'reverse judgment' flared up in me, and I spent the rest of my way back dealing with it.  It seems I have encountered these similar attitudes of others lately, and I am finding that I am less and less tolerant of it.  For example, the comment made by one of our highly prominent community members who decided he could no longer attend our church because 'the sorts of people that come there you wouldn't want to invite to have around your dining table.'

This kind of thing brings me to angry tears.  Does he KNOW what Jesus spent most ALL of his time doing while here on earth?  He ate with the riffriff, the unkempt, the gamblers, the drunks and the sinners.  He walked everywhere, out among the people, demonstrating through His actions that He would reach out and touch anyone, out of compassion when He saw of their need, regardless of their rotting flesh, foul smells, ailments and addictions.

I have entered the New Testament of my year-long journey through the Bible chronologically, and I am finding my deep love for this Son of Man Jesus growing deeper by the day.  I am also noticing a disparity at the way 'we' in the Christian community present Him and His ways and what I am finding penned in words by the ones that walked with Him daily.  He was not an 'arms length' Savior, a 'put a token in an envelope and send it to the less fortunate' Healer.  He did not rally 'His' little chosen crew, circle the wagons, hold hands and create a barrier to those on the outside. In fact, these are the very things that He saw in the 'religious teachers' that angered Him most.  He did not cast his fury at the demon-possessed, the women with colorful pasts, or the ones of little faith.  But we do.

I made my way back to my condo and my peace of mind in settling my own troubled attitudes toward that unknown couple and so many like them.  For whatever reason, they just don't truly see.  I can not fault them for what they do not grasp.  I can only contend with my own reactions and responses so I made up my mind:  I would go out the next morning, prepared to serve this one that's been forgotten.  That, and I would, from now on, always tuck a five-dollar bill on me somewhere so that I could respond in the moment and not have to wait.

The next morning I got up early, put together a 'care bag' and headed out.  I made a generous sandwich, put in the rest of the loaf of bread that wouldn't make it home intact anyway, several waters, a banana and some soap and shampoos.  I also carried a small orange juice and then my own coffee in the other hand.  I made my way the mile or so to the pier hoping he would be back, asleep there in the shadows.  He was not, so I walked on, looking curious, I am sure, with multiple plastic bags draping my arms and a sloshing cup in each hand.  I decided I would keep going to the 2nd avenue pier to see if he'd made that 'home' instead.  He was not there either.  After this three mile trek, I decided I would keep my eyes open for someone that looked like they might could use it, but that can be tricky.  I never did encounter anyone that didn't look like a complete tourist on their vacation so I went back and decided that it was okay - God saw my heart.

I always tend to think of great comebacks long after the fact.  Not that the situation warranted a comeback, and chances are, as my mother pointed out this morning over coffee, they could have just been looking out for my safety, a woman by myself about to encounter a man under a pier.  I scoffed at that though, reminding her that I had long decided that I did not fear things like that.  Fear is the thing that cripples people from taking the very action God may be wanting someone to take in a moment like that.  However I had decided that if I could go back, I might reply to their 'watch out' with:

"Watch out.  Watch out for the walls that you build around yourself and buffer from the needs of humanity."

It is an Art

Not only did we procure the astounding sunflowers, but came home with a pumpkin each.  We found it funny that we buckled them in the backseat of my car, like little pumpkin children.  At home, we splayed across the driveway in slanting sun to create our masterpieces.  My 'C' gave me fits but that's where getting crafty with toothpicks comes in handy.  All in all, it was a perfect day.

Happiness in a Jar

Daughter and I went plunking around Jaemor Farms today.  They had buckets of these enormous sunflowers for a dollar.  This sunflower in this mason jar adds happiness to this day.

Black and White

I adore the combination of black and white.  So I was amazed to find this heart-shaped black and white shell piece on the last morning of the beach.

All the Reasons to Love

Took this Monday night of the 14th Ave pier


When I was a teenager, I crafted a list of all the things I loved.  I have come to the place in life where that same list would be infinite.  I do know that I can take one thing I love and expound upon that so here goes: (feel free to think up reasons of your own...)

My Reasons to Love the Beach:

1) beach hair

2) schedules cease and time stills

3)  it is perfectly acceptable to get dirty

4)  not wearing a) makeup, b) shoes c) undergarments if you don't want to

5)  wearing neon pink with orange is a-okay

6)  wearing pajamas in public is also kosher (to watch the sunrise)

7)  breakfast on balconies or on fold-out couches with the sliding door open at 11 A.M.

8) balconies

9) balcony dancing

10) it is the universal leveling ground

11)  watching little kids

12)  watching old people

13)  watching old people act like kids

14)  shell scavengers

15) bonding with complete strangers over a shared experience

16)  the biggest concern is what direction to set your chair

17)  romping unencumbered

18)  walking at the shoreline

19) being nearly naked and everyone's fine with it because they are too

20) the fishermen

21) the fishermen's wives

22) the fisherwomen

23) the treasure seekers with their metal detectors

24)  old ladies with floppy hats

25)  the dozy feeling that sets in just around late afternoon from so much warmth and the sound of the waves

26) waves (thank you, east coast)

27)  beach games

28)  drip castles

29)  dogs on the beach

30)  running on the beach

31) walking in the waves

32) sunrises

33) sunsets

34)  diving into the waves

35) the tingle as the waves trail down from head to toe

36)  finding sand everywhere afterward - in the bottom of every bag, the car, the crease of a novel...

37)  tan shoulders

38)  sandy feet

39)  feeling sexier

40)  perching on the balcony at night to listen to the waves

Bared All

Today I wrote completely old school and laid bare: all legal pad and pen, minus any supposed censure. I believe I have found my tool of choice for roughing out what rattles within. It felt akin to a luxurious stretch after a twelve-hour car ride. I have arrived at many conclusions this trip, and none include walking away from the hammock any time soon.

Grammatical errors make me crazy....

A Place for The Untamed

"If we are writing from deep places, fear can all but overtake us sometimes. If we are speaking with a true voice, anxiety can stop us in our tracks.....Perhaps we are afraid of the rawness of what we have to say, and how we want to say it.  We need to find people who will provide a safe writing space for us, where criticism comes late and love and delight come early." ~ l.l. barkat  Rumors of Water


This is the place I had come to with this blog.  It wasn't so much I didn't have anything to say, although my words were the scattered few morsels in the bottom of the cereal box, not even the prize, and too few to make a satisfying bowl, as well as a bit stale.  No, my conundrum was(is) found in a new fear surfaced that I didn't know was present.  It was (and continues to be) the teetering roost between, to use a word from the quote, a rawness in what I have to say and the judgement by others for what is said.  I assume that may leave the impression that there are facets of my character that may be found to be unacceptable.  No, it is nothing like that at all.  There are just topics and themes that rattle around in my head that may seem 'out there' and controversial or radical, but by radical I mean thoughts that chase and dabble just beyond the lifegaurd ropes of an "accepted" norm.  My argument (if there was one to be had) is this:  life is edgy.  It is not always symmetry and straight lines.  You can color inside the lines all the time if you want to, but I thank God it isn't always neat, predictable, and safe.

So the quote says to find people or spaces where writing can take whatever shape it is:  prickly, barbed or provocative.  A place where 'monkeys can feel a bunny (another reference from Rumors).  I am not sure of that person or place for me, and even more uncertain that the hammock could withstand the weight.  I have the option to write 'unleashed' in a completely private setting, but then for what?  So the tussle continues.  Here I am, holding handfuls of thoughts, armloads, searching for a place to put them.

This leads me to further investigate where I am going with all of this.  Am I just going to keep blogging into oblivion, my words echoing off of empty walls?  Will I push myself to ever do anything else with this lump beyond the confines of a blog?  I don't know how many times I have asked, and keep asking,'What do You want me to do with this, Lord?'  And I wait.  But in waiting, it has to be active and this brings me back around to the question:  where exactly to place my words, especially the wild and unruly ones?

Around the time that I began to wonder if my blog had run its course, I checked in on one of my favorite blogs that I have followed for a couple of years - Aurajoon.  The title of her post was 'Jump Ship' and she was saying goodbye.  For her, her voice was becoming muddled in all the chorus of voices and as she began to see fault in others and herself, reasoned that life lived out from in front of a public blog was best.  This is where I came to the possibility that perhaps 'goodbye' was one word I had left to share.  But I haven't come to that yet.  I still go in search of a place where my undomesticated words can roam free.

Intriguing Discovery

Today (or rather yesterday, but it is still today to me as I have not yet gone to bed) Eldest and I headed down the road in search of the nearest grocery store.  On the Spectrum channel a version of one of my all-time favorite songs came on that blew me away.  I have looked into it just briefly via you tube and iTunes.  Apparently, Peter Gabriel has been performing with an orchestra, New Blood.  He has set many of his greats with a backdrop of an orchestra.  'In Your Eyes' was the song, and while I am partial to the original, this version was incredible in its unique sound.  The video for it on you tube is amateur and not Gabriel's best performance, but the sample version of the song depicted it well.  This one might be worth having in my collection.

I Will Be an Inner Pin-Up Girl

Little old beach ladies are a fascination to me.  I often watch them, not in a creepy stalker sort of way, but with a quiet curiosity and adoration.  I know all too well I will be one of them one day, if God wills that I should linger on the planet for another few decades.  It is a reality we all face, but none with more stark realizations than a woman.

You can find them strolling with a fellow 'seasoned' gal, or hand-in-hand with their round-bellied, balding significant other.  Some walk alone, assured in their steps, a calm about them that can not be fabricated.  Then others are found sprawling, comfortable in low, striped chairs at water's edge, floppy hats and floral print skirted suits.  

My adoration rests in the self-assured way that most carry themselves.  It is not a self-confidence that seems to hold an air of having something to prove.  Quite the contrary, they have proven everything to themselves already, and regard both their strengths and weaknesses as an asset that encompasses who they are.  In knowing how they were created in all sense of the word, there is great insight into all of humankind, and with it a grace overflowing.

Our media and the world would have you believe her worth is somehow faded, less, because her beauty and features no longer draw attention.  Heads do not turn in her direction anymore to follow her along the waterline, but I think we have it all wrong.  What physical attractiveness that may no longer be apparent on the surface has become hidden, and has increased within, settling deep and becoming a trove  to discover.  At a glance, you may miss it in favor of the younger, more sleek version.  Maybe it is just as well, for what lies within a gracefully advancing woman is the reward to those willing to go beyond skin-deep, to explore and unearth all the stunning treasures there.

I find myself perched somewhere 'in between'.  I know I am not what I once was when I was twenty, a body yet carved by life, hardship and childbearing.  Fleeting moments come and go that I long for that smooth skin and that younger landscape that was my body.  It is a reoccurring wish tucked away in the recesses of most women's minds.

And yet.....

I smile in the direction of my weathered, white-haired beach sisters because they know.  They know what I am learning, am practicing.  This body is capable of immense life, great strength and conversely, the softest touch.  This body can run and sweat, celebrate and love.  Every stripe a path I have traveled, every line an experience lived, every scar a storm endured and survived.  No, triumphed.  Yet, as my eyes drift from the parade of humanity before me onto my own limbs stretched long in the sun, I notice subtle hints at the very weathered touch my elder sisters carry.  But this body isn't truly me.  It is a mere vessel.  Contained within, is my heart and my soul, those facets that make me, me.  Very few in this life will ever, ever go there.

Curiosity seeks to know, to chase after one of those beautifully aged women like a pesky child with a thousand questions:  what holds that wise and knowing smile in place?  What map have you followed, that graces your eyes with laugh lines, as well as the deep trough of sorrow centered between your brow?  Do you look back and long, or gaze steadily ahead?  Can you remember the exact moment you were aware both body and spirit had finally settled comfortably at home together?  Are there times, like I have known, that you sense every aspect of yourself, the youthful you and the matured, standing together, a united front to make you stronger?

One day I will be one of them:  wispy hair the color of moonlight, weathered tan on skin that is day-by-day relaxing away from the hurried rhythms of life.  I will don my floppy hat and knowing smile.  I will be that old lady in baggy jeans rolled above sinewy calves, pant legs edged in salt water.  My knotted toes will still sport brightly colored paint, and be most at home in a pair of flip flops.  I will peer, with eyes of a girl, out from under lilted lids across my 29,000th sunset horizon.  I will be quirky and colorful, eccentric yet centered.  I will be wise.  My inner self will be the sexiest of pin-up girls in the way of beauty.  That is something to celebrate.

Two Lessons Down

One of the main intents of this brief trip is to come to grips with writing, to wrestle with it if need be, to dive in fully.  I brought along some books that I am fond of for living the writerly life.  One of them suggested being able to write anywhere.  It also offered a challenge to sit and write for 45 minutes, not stopping.  I did both.  Amid the wind and blowing sand, I wrangled a legal pad against the gusts.  I wrote, planted in the sand and propped on the seat of my low-to-the-ground beach chair.  I celebrate this small triumph.

A Day of Winged Creatures

Butterflies have fluttered all around on the beach today.  I paused, thinking this was a rather peculiar occurrence.  Maybe not.  I just found it to be unusual.  In particular, this one bright yellow one hung around, and circled above me for a bit.

Shortly afterwards, this winged amazement lit on my right arm.

I attempted several clumsy tries at capturing a picture of him with my phone.  Sunlight obscured any view of the screen and I didn't want to move too much.  I was literally eyeball to eyeballs (to eyeballs to eyeballs to eyeballs....) with this beautiful being.  I was so close I could take in the spot of turquoise above his compound eyes.  Soon I discovered that he didn't mind my being near him.  He appeared to be clinging to me, resting.  When a gust of wind swept across and lifted his body completely perpendicular to my arm, he looked as though he grasped tighter and leaned in close to me so I gently encased his body with my free hand to shield him from the wind.  He didn't mind my relocating him to my index finger so I could bring him even closer to my face and look into his.  He finally had enough communing with me, and after a suitable rest, took flight.

Soon after, on my stroll down the beach, I came across this one in my path on the sand.

He was alive, but battered, wet and broken.  Bending down, I presented my index finger and he stepped, then crawled up into my open palm.  I carried this one with me for the remainder of my walk, again being a shield against the gusts and needling sand.  He too, finally decided to go his own way, and actually flew quite a distance before landing once again on the sand.

I was instantly intrigued so this evening I came back to the room and set out to learn more about the dragonfly.  This is what I learned:

• They have up to 30,000 individual lens in their eyes.
• Dragonflies have been around since the days of the dinosaurs, and one prehistoric fossil had a wingspan of 2 1/2 feet.
• Dragonfly nymphs (right after hatching) live in the water for about a year.
• Once they leave the water and become flying insects, they only live for about a month.

Suddenly, I felt privileged to have been a part of a moment in their short lives.

Steeped in symbolism and myth, they were once believed to have teeth, hence the origin of their family name, Odonata, which means 'tooth'.  It was also believed that dragonflies were once, in fact, dragons.  While they don't have teeth, their jaws offer a powerful blow to their prey with strong mandibles for crushing.

Universally, the dragonfly symbolizes change and represents a sense of self-realization. All meaning of the dragonfly can be wrapped up in the process of maturity and age.  In a nutshell, each aspect of this winged being signifies a trait of 'becoming'.  Its flight denotes both power and poise with its ability to fly in all six directions as well as travel at speeds up to 36 miles per hour and accomplishes this with wing flaps that only have to beat 30 times per second. Poise and grace are reflected in its ability to hover in place, floating like a skilled dancer.  A dragonfly's ascending flight also symbolizes a moving beyond what is surface, and a deeper understanding on life.

Upon close inspection of both my dragonfly visitors today, I noticed an iridescence to their wings and eyes.  This multifaceted luminosity is believed to represent the end of one's self-created illusions, replaced with a clear perspective on life.  This can be seen as discovering one's own abilities, uncovering the real self, casting doubts aside and dropping inhibitions.  

A dragonfly's short life represents learning to live more 'in the moment'.  They accomplish much and never stop in their short few months (usually less) of life.  They demonstrate living life to the fullest.  The two I met today taught me both the power of connection without words, and a persevering spirit.  

Finally, the eyes.  A dragonfly's eyes alone have me pondering how anyone could behold creation and not believe in God Creator.  They have 30,000 lens contained within small orbs the size of a pea.  They can see completely 360 degrees.  This symbolizes uninhibited vision of the mind and seeing beyond limitations.  It denotes a person's gaze into the enormity that is our Universe beyond materialism and the mundane. 

I also learned that they are most powerful in the summer under the warming effects of the sunlight. In this, I can certainly relate.

As I researched, I heard a buzzing directly above my head.  For a minute I could not detect its source and then I spotted a small, circling dragonfly orbiting around the lightbulb of my lamp.  I caught my breath.  Three encounters with this creature of water and sky today.

It is Always As It Should Be

Car pointed straight for the shore and a swollen October moon.
ELO, Tom Petty, Boston and The Cure,
Juicyfruit and Doublemint gum.
childhood memories, his and mine -
heartfelt apology from the one that sieged battle,
struggles lost and won in territory
that was mine when I signed on
to this thing called motherhood.
Jokes, inside and new,
impersonations and laughter -
road trip with my son.

~

This has been the best time so far.  We left around 8:00 p.m. knowing we had a long ride on into the night ahead of us.  We talked, and I had flashes of his elementary school self, and then his middle school self, riding along with me, feeling secure in sharing what's on his heart side-by-side in the car.  As we recalled snippets from each our own childhoods, he remembered a memory of him (in his recollection) 'playfully' chucking a book at me as I prepared to read to him before bed.  I stayed quiet for a moment, and then adjusted his reminiscence to plumb with what actually happened.  It had been a particularly rough day.  Pent up frustration on his part could no longer be contained and he hurled it and the book squarely where he often did, his primary caregiver: me.  After this revelation, I felt eyes on me through the darkness filling the car.  "Wow, I'm sorry, Mom.  I don't know why I would have done that."  I explained what I knew of the situation, in hindsight and replied, "I accept.  But just know, parenting is hard, and struggle comes with the territory, but I would do it all again."

This trip happened just as it should be.

I Made It

My skin rediscovered its shade of summer today.

My Theme song for Break

Love this song, this artist, this video, these lyrics.  I seriously contemplated his idea of what to do with his phone, too.  Chunk it right out a window...... A girl can dream...

I'm all at sea
Where no-one can bother me
Forgot my roots
If only for a day
Just me and my thoughts sailing far away
Like a warm drink it seeps into my soul
Please just leave me right here on my own
Later on you could spend some time with me
If you want to
All at sea
I'm all at sea
Where no-one can bother me
I sleep by myself
I drink on my own
Don't speak to nobody
I gave away my phone
Like a warm drink it seeps into my soul
Please just leave me right here on my own
Later on you could spend some time with me
If you want to
All at sea
Now I need you more than ever, I need you more than ever, now
You don't need it every day
But sometimes don't you just crave
To disappear within your mind
You never know what you might find
So come and spend some time with me
We will spend it all at sea
Like a warm drink it seeps into my soul
Please just leave me right here on my own
Later on you could spend some time with me
If you want to
All at sea

Carpe Diem, Ocean Style

Themed Fridge Poetry Friday

Today's fridge poetry hints at where I am headed today....

Going back to where the balcony dance was born...I am officially on fall break, and had originally scheduled a get-away to one of my favorite east coast shores by myself (everyone else had plans and I have a very understanding husband that recognizes and allows room for my 'gypsyness').  I have always wanted to go to the beach during an 'off' season, even winter, which hasn't been as embraced by others in my crew.  As it turns out, Zach will be able to go with me.  I am looking forward to the bonding time with him as we anticipate his departure in a couple of short months, but I have warned him:  my original intent was a retreat of sorts to seek, and to be still, and to write like a mad woman whose very next breath depends on words and more words.  I am not looking to get out and about or be entertained.  He still agreed to go.  It is as it should be, and I anticipate the very moment my toes find the tickle of the lapping surf.

Back to My Roots

I guess you could say my roots are as redneck as they come because, metaphorically speaking, they are about as multi-colored and multi-textured as they come.  I am speaking of musical taste, that is, and it is a wide, yet deep thread of genres.  I recently went on a girls' weekend get-away to Nashville and The Grand Ole Opry (so I can simultaneously add, then cross that off my list: visit the Grand Ole Opry), and I was instantly grounded right back to the underpinnings of my eclectic musical penchants.

It was routine in my house growing up to transition from the Beatles to Loretta Lynn, John Fogerty and CCR to The Oak Ridge Boys or Eddie Rabbit as flawlessly as a page turning.  I have memories of my Mom swirling me around and side-stepping in the living room to anything from Alabama to Ronnie Milsap.  She loved to dance.  She loved it so much back then that she often went to The Texas Hall of Fame with some girlfriends.  Dad didn't dance.  Most men won't (why???).  So she took herself out to go dancing.

I had to have been twelve or thirteen, newly awkward in my gawky, preteen posture.  For what ever reason, I got to go with her one night.  (Don't judge:  it was an 'off' night and I was allowed to be there as long as I was with an adult.)  The dance floor was empty, inviting for someone who loved to dance.

The memory is as clear as yesterday.  I perched on the tall stool, a gangly bird, sipping my Shirley Temple.  The group that I was among were colleagues from my Mom's work, out for a night together.  Forrest, one of my Mom's employees, asked me to dance so I could practice my two-step.  She had told me he was an incredible dancer, and would be a good one to learn some steps.  Shyly, I slipped off the stool and followed him out on the floor.

After a moment or two of positioning arms and hands, we caught the first bars of the next song, and took off.  He led, but in such a way that my feet couldn't help but follow.  Halfway around the empty, polished wood floor, and we were on a roll.  It felt like flying to song.  My hair blew, and whipped across my lips when I turned my head sideways to see the room as it spun around us.  Pre-adolescent feet that usually couldn't find their place, and often missed steps or stumbled, glided across the glassy floor.

I have not sailed across a dance floor like that since.  It is where my love of both music and dance was made solid.  It is why I am endeared to this scene in one of my most favorite movies:

Being at the Grand Ole Opry, surrounded by big hats, jeans and boots - all things I love, brought this memory careening back to me.  Circling an old dance hall floor as if floating, with a twenty-something college student named Forrest.  For me, the hope to replicate this experience was born.

I loved every second of my time in Nashville, feeling every bit at home in my own boots and jeans.  It was worth it just to get to see Rascal Flatts get inducted into the Grand Ole Opry.  I was here!



It reminded me, as well, of two of their songs that are 'greats':



And:



I refrained from posting the original video for those that would judge.  It was quite the controversy when it aired on CMT.  Nonetheless, it.is.hot.

And so, I am now on a country kick. I guess for a girl born in Wyoming, and raised among the dance halls and rodeos of Texas, it's fitting.

Cue:

RANDOM Fridge Poetry Friday

Blindfolds can be fun.  So I constructed my fridge poem this week with a twist...I closed my eyes and randomly selected the words to use this time.  I gave myself two rules - I could add small words like 'a', or 'the', etc. if needed, and I didn't necessarily have to use ALL the words chosen.  So this is what transpired.

Wishes

Count them -
 every one.

Sunrises,
favorite songs, belly aching laughter,
eyes for gazing, hot cup o' liquid sunshine and frozen blueberries.
Wide open stretch of road, the moon to follow the car and light the way,
honeysuckle on a breeze, front porch swings and hammocks on a summer afternoon.
Adoration, exploration, adventure, discovery, mystery.
Rich, red sips and icy gilded goodness to pass the lips.
Stories untold, words yet to unfold, beauty of heart and strength of spirit.
Shells in a jar, spines on a shelf, hope for the future, all worries far, far away.
Memories to hold, dreams to follow, songs to sing and endless trails.
Hands to hold, kids to tickle, hair to tussle, prayers to close the day.
Courage, tenderness, a slow dance, an embrace like puzzle pieces,
bare feet to find the salty sea,
Love.

A Day for Reflecting

These kinds of things are normally done on birthdays.  It is not mine, but a perfect opportunity to step back and take some time to reflect on The Year of My Fortieth and a life contained within.  It's important to do this from time to time:  annually, biannually, monthly, weekly, daily, moment-by-moment, some times.

It is about that time.  I have long decided that I think I have exhausted the "_____Things About Me" concept.  There really just aren't that many riveting things about me, not that I would want to divulge to the world wide public anyway.

I am a life-long learner.  I always hope to be.  That is a 'list' that should never get stale.  So here goes, and it is by no means exhaustive.  40 things I've learned in my forty years.

1.  Do what you love.  Find it, seek it, cultivate it.  But just do it.  Even if badly.

2.  Our lives really do have seasons.

3.  When God says, 'Do not fear'. He means it.  He knows there is such a better way than to live in the suffocating, debilitating house of fear.

4.  You really can come through the parenting years unscathed by minivanitis.

5.  Nothing can replace good old-fashioned, face-to-face, warm bodied human connection.

6.  Dance, alone if you have to.  Life is too short not to.

7.  Our parents are more real than we ever, EVER give them credit for.

8.  Change doesn't always guarantee change.  Same song, different day holds quite a bit of truth.

9.  Attitude makes up 90% of how our lives and days will be.  The rest is just what happens along the way.

10. Common sense is a dying art.

11.  It benefits everyone to openly recognize and admit our own biases and then seek to emend them.

12.  Store brand/generic aluminum foil really is cheap, in all sense of the word.  Spring for the name brand on this one.

13.  There are few, big monumental choices we will make in life:  marriage, friends, career.  Choose wisely.

14.  Your job does not define you.  At the end of the day, or a lifetime, you really are expendable.

15.  Entitlement is unbecoming and benefits no one.

16.  Always schedule your next appointment at the end of your current appointment.  Makes life easier to keep track of from day-to-day.

17.  Occasionally, regularly, 'unplug'.  Put down the phone, stow the laptop away, shut off all screens, and get outside.  Dig in the dirt.  Walk barefoot.  Lay facing the sky/stars/sunset.    We were made to be healthier and happier by connecting to nature.

18.  You can not change people.

19.  Some things really are better left unsaid.

20.  When you are ever at the end of your rope, reach up.  Yes, literally REACH.  He is ALWAYS there.

21.  People that tend to stir up drama, or draw attention to themselves, or constantly have 'issues' with someone generally are often the most insecure, self-criticizing, unhappy people.  Realize this and love them anyway.

22.  At the end of the day, the majority of people you come across have a Mama they love, a little face in their life that they adore, and a hope for a better day.

23.  Saying someone's name in any situation, can lift their countenance.  To the waitress, the grocery clerk, the man in the teller window.  It works.

24.  Sometimes it is just better to lay low, stretch out and ride out a bad mood or a low funk than to try to fight it.

25.  Procrastination is a minion of satan.

26.  Boys really do make passes at girls with glasses.

27.  Dress for success holds truth.  You just can't quite be completely 'on your game' or taken quite as seriously in slouchy attire and flip flops.

28.  Most important purchase that you should not scrimp on:  a mattress.  You spend a large portion of your life there and nothing makes a day more difficult than walking around like a stiff, cramped grouchy zombie.

29.  Worry is completely useless.

30.  Searching and questioning does not undermine faith.  You should routinely examine your beliefs.

31.  Some times you just have to drive fast and listen to the music loud.

32.  Not much of anything of substance comes out of Hollywood.  Ever.

33.  Doctors do not always know what's best or have your best interest at heart.

34.  Beware of those that always present themselves as being one that has it all figured out.

35.  A short nap (according to research, within an hour and 30 minutes only...) can some times make a world of difference in a day.

36.  There will be risky chances that present themselves in life.  The ones that seem to make no sense...  Take them.

37.  Kids and teens really have the right idea:  Enjoy the moment.  Laugh.  Play.  Throw up your arms like you're on a roller coaster and yell, "wheeeeeee!" when going downhill.  It is more fun that way.

38.  Parenting IS one of the hardest, yet best things you could ever do.  It makes you a better person all the while you are shaping another.

39.  Take responsibility.

40.  There are truly those friendships that last a lifetime and transcend this life.  Seek these and cherish them.

I Couldn't Resist

I found peace...

Get it?!  I found this recently...
Get it?!
I crack myself up...really, I do.

This Cool Autumn Weather Reminds Me of....

This song just screams cool autumn night, fireplace, and slow dancing...and maybe mini s'mores made over a candle...

Beauty in 3's

This picture doesn't even do this justice but this sunset was STUNNING.  I just stopped and stood up in my car to stare at it.  October has the most beautiful sunsets, I believe.

LOOK at this moth that landed on my doorstep!!!  First the luna moth, and now this!?!  A true masterpiece.

Just a few posts ago I was saying that I wanted to ask for a few more magnetic poetry sets.....and then that day I 'uncovered' one, literally, when I was clearing out a storage tub.  This one is brand new, and I don't really remember buying it.  A-Mazing.