I always smile to look at the blog roll on or around New Year's to see aaaaaaaalllllll the various varieties of New Year's posts that abound. It is always interesting to see how folks choose to approach the topic. I have either ignored or tackled the subject myself from time-to-time, taking both extremes.
In general, I am not much for resolutions, mainly because my personality is continually in 'reflect and readjust' mode. As I sit here in the midst of half Christmas - half de-decking chaos, I could roll out a litany of changes and things I should do or stop doing in the upcoming year. You have no idea.....2013 has personally been a year of unravelling so I could write a book, with chapters on ways I could improve. I wouldn't know where to start. I don't think I will.
Here's what I have come to so far as I have tried to squeeze in some reflection time in between the festivities and house guests and putting daughters on planes to go off to the four corners of the world:
Rather than 'Looking Back' (2013 wasn't much to look at, actually. Kind of like a utilitarian road side rest stop.) my theme, if you will, for the upcoming year is RETURN. I will not be looking back, or doing a year in review. It is just one of those years I would rather leave well enough alone and let it quietly become a speck on my timeline. I'm okay with that. Some years are better left to go without fanfare.
Instead of looking back, I want to return. Go back to the things I need to continue. Things I'd let go by the way side. Things I had neglected. Things I know to be true to myself.
Some of things may look like 'resolutions' but no. These are things I did at one point, and let them go. I will be trying to do them again, hopefully daily. Work will no longer be a force that bullies its way into my hours and my life. It will be a means to an end. It will be a place to be and to reach out. It will have its place.
So for a glimpse of my returning:
1) Looking up - I used to sky gaze almost daily. Whether driving in the car or out on my driveway, I would be found searching the heavens for stars, for satellites, for sunsets and sunrises. For the sun. I don't know when I stopped, but I did. I will return to the stars. I will search the dark for the moon's perch above me.
2) Listening - Another 'something' that I'd let go - listening to music. I may have mentioned somewhere in a scarce post that I'd grown to driving in silence. That carried over into my house. Into my heart. I'd drained the melodies and strains of music from my world. I don't know why. This girl that was head-bopping to tunes in my crib is not 'whole' without music to define my days. Back to it, I shall RETURN. With this, the accompanying dancing will ensue. That I'd let go too. No more.
3) Seeking - My year could be described in texture by the muted, muffled feel of wool, of cotton batting. I did not seek - truth, LOVE, words, Jesus, kinship, quiet, adventure.....I sought after nothing. My days began to roll, one into the other, getting by each day, head tucked to endure the deluge. I am going to disconnect more to seek more, if that makes sense. Some of you are completely shaking your head 'yes'. You get it.
4) Writing - I have been encouraged before to do this - in the raw. I intend to that this time. Other than the few appearances I've made here, I have done very little in the way of authentic writing. This, I need. Like air. So I plan to make time for it daily. It is my passion. I came close to letting it go. I won't.
5) Labor Physically - 2013 has been entirely too physically dormant. I let running go by the wayside. I ceased all physical movement. NO MORE. I have to live with me. After the day is done, and everyone's clocked out, gone home, scattered to their recorded tv shows and online games, I HAVE TO EXIST IN THIS BOD. I would like it to be all it can be to carry me along the rest of my days. So back to it. Decisively. No holds barred. This girl NEEDS to move.
Not too harsh of a list to return. I am sure I will develop more between tonight and tomorrow. I take an annual walk on New Year's Day and think. More will come, I am sure. I want to RETURN again to who I am. I thought I'd lost her along the way this past year. Not so.
Starting with the waning crescent moon tonight, here's to looking up. Who's with me?
December 31, 2013
December 30, 2013
New Ways to Play with Words
I shall share one gift from this year - a set of Haikubes. Romantic Haikubes, that is. Okay, so I had to request it. I honestly wasn't expecting it, considering said giver scoffs at poetry. I got a decisive eyeroll when I suggested giver create a poem.
Nonetheless, these don't replace Fridge Poetry. I haven't abandoned that, technically. It's more like a sabbatical.
So I saw these really neat word cubes and decided that I would love them. I rarely EVER request gifts. I don't really need one thing. But these. I just thought - 'yeah...those are nifty'.
The rules are: you scramble all the cubes and use the two colored cubes as the starting 'theme'. Then you create a haiku with the cubes.
Nonetheless, these don't replace Fridge Poetry. I haven't abandoned that, technically. It's more like a sabbatical.
So I saw these really neat word cubes and decided that I would love them. I rarely EVER request gifts. I don't really need one thing. But these. I just thought - 'yeah...those are nifty'.
The rules are: you scramble all the cubes and use the two colored cubes as the starting 'theme'. Then you create a haiku with the cubes.
5 syllables
7 syllables
5 syllables
This is titillating stuff to one obsessed with words. To those who aren't, it is like watching paint dry.
Of course you can always free verse. That is quite acceptable too.
Two days ago I was let off to pass some time while another shopped elsewhere. It was a bookstore. I found this:
I'm going to give this a whirl. Mostly on paper. Some I may share with you. This is likened to one on a ventilator, unable to breathe yet on their own. This is my ventilator for now. I am looking forward to it.
December 25, 2013
I Am the Innkeeper
~Luke 2:7
My mind harkens back to that night. I imagine it cold, only because my concentric perspective is a globe of southern chill. A town, expecting an influx. An event to draw the masses. Business would be booming.
Head down, eyes on a ledger, dancing to the flickering shadows of the flame to light my view. I have successfully booked every room - full to overflowing. As people streamed in throughout the day, I was glad for the days I'd spent preparing: cleaning all the rooms - changing the straw, sweeping the sandy hallways to each room, filling all the lamps. A day's work, never done.
In the wee hour, a couple saddles up to the front of my inn. They are road-weary, and yearning for rest. There is no room - not even for a young bride, full with child - the King of all, and All Time. I have not made room for them.
I have been busy.
My head has been bent in work and toil.
So much to do.
Each room, packed with labor, and obligation.
I have scurried and sacrificed for the vocation.
The Lord of Lords awaits His place of birth, and I am concerned with the smallest speck of minute task. How I let Him pass me by.
The Inn is full. Every minute consumed by things temporal. I have no place for the Creator Come Down to lay His head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This has been my story this year.
A short message was shared in the last week of classes about the 'story' unspoken between Luke 2:7 and 2:8, of the Innkeeper, turning away the King of Kings. He had been entrenched in preparations and 'work'. He relegated the Lord of All to a bed of straw and the smells of a stable.
And he missed the One who would give him rest.
This struck a spot in my heart that still 'felt' anything. Foreign liquid formed in the rim of my eyes, stinging what hadn't seen the salty side of sorrow, or any human emotion in months.
The Space Between
A favorite and painful phrase -
I noticed there is this gap between the Innkeeper obviously turning away a very pregnant mother of the Savior, and a bunch of nescient sheep herders, staring, as usual, into the dense fabric of darkness, scattered with stars. A routine night on the hill. A watch, monotonous the same.
Except nothing is the same, or will be again.
A crevasse between darkness and salvation stretches between the distracted Innkeeper and the waiting Shepherds - waiting for the night of their lives.
I have been that Innkeeper. The role so fitting my frenzied soul. More to do. Squeeze out the quiet stillness. No time for that. Business as usual. Always a bottom line.
And yet -
a baby's cry into the darkness, that splits time and true freedom from contrived obligation.
a star that shone like day unto those looking up, waiting. Waiting.
A lone angel, declaring 'Do not fear.'
For all time.
Tonight, a mention of a Candle of Seeking....what is that?!?! It tugged at my being. A candle of SEEKING? This - I want.
A seeking candle.
Make me a shepherd.
Still stretched long under the celestial host.
Always waiting.
Always seeking.
Hoping.
Tonight, for a star that guides me HOME.
In the wee hour, a couple saddles up to the front of my inn. They are road-weary, and yearning for rest. There is no room - not even for a young bride, full with child - the King of all, and All Time. I have not made room for them.
I have been busy.
My head has been bent in work and toil.
So much to do.
Each room, packed with labor, and obligation.
I have scurried and sacrificed for the vocation.
The Lord of Lords awaits His place of birth, and I am concerned with the smallest speck of minute task. How I let Him pass me by.
The Inn is full. Every minute consumed by things temporal. I have no place for the Creator Come Down to lay His head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This has been my story this year.
A short message was shared in the last week of classes about the 'story' unspoken between Luke 2:7 and 2:8, of the Innkeeper, turning away the King of Kings. He had been entrenched in preparations and 'work'. He relegated the Lord of All to a bed of straw and the smells of a stable.
And he missed the One who would give him rest.
This struck a spot in my heart that still 'felt' anything. Foreign liquid formed in the rim of my eyes, stinging what hadn't seen the salty side of sorrow, or any human emotion in months.
The Space Between
A favorite and painful phrase -
I noticed there is this gap between the Innkeeper obviously turning away a very pregnant mother of the Savior, and a bunch of nescient sheep herders, staring, as usual, into the dense fabric of darkness, scattered with stars. A routine night on the hill. A watch, monotonous the same.
Except nothing is the same, or will be again.
A crevasse between darkness and salvation stretches between the distracted Innkeeper and the waiting Shepherds - waiting for the night of their lives.
I have been that Innkeeper. The role so fitting my frenzied soul. More to do. Squeeze out the quiet stillness. No time for that. Business as usual. Always a bottom line.
And yet -
a baby's cry into the darkness, that splits time and true freedom from contrived obligation.
a star that shone like day unto those looking up, waiting. Waiting.
A lone angel, declaring 'Do not fear.'
For all time.
Tonight, a mention of a Candle of Seeking....what is that?!?! It tugged at my being. A candle of SEEKING? This - I want.
A seeking candle.
Make me a shepherd.
Still stretched long under the celestial host.
Always waiting.
Always seeking.
Hoping.
Tonight, for a star that guides me HOME.
December 22, 2013
Nostalgia
Have I done a post with that title already? I feel like I have, but I really don't want to go back through and check. You know what will happen: I'd start perusing through old posts. I'd start reading them. Three hours later, I would have gone through years worth of words and memories, and not get one single syllable here so, onward.
These days, I am finding myself waxing nostalgic. More and more, I long for the 'old days', thinking back to times gone by. I am not sure what it is. It could be the fact that the world has gone completely ape-fur crazy, everything upside-down and inside out that my soul thirsts for a simpler time. Maybe it is age. Suddenly, in a matter of minutes, I find I have raised two children, lost all but one grandparent, have aging parents, bumble around in a house echoing more quiet than ever before. Perhaps it is the personal season of life I find myself currently. Daily stress that marks an intensity I've not experienced to this degree up to this point, and my being craves a memories of peace.
Whatever the reason, I have begun to fully embrace the ringing of Christmases past, and am making every effort to bring those cherished things into the present. It seems it gets harder and harder to keep any sort of tradition alive. With newershinierfasterbetter coming out daily, and 'things of old' being deemed outdated and irrelevant by the supposed culture at large, treasured elements of the past are harder to continue.
One example is the idea of decorating the outside of the house. I don't know what it is like where you live, but I have noticed a sharp decline in any sort of lighting display. If there is any hint of Christmas, it might be a simple wreath on the door, or a strand of lights thrown out on the bush closest to the front door. I don't know what it is. Not only that, but there seems to be more 'distain' for an all-out jolly display of Christmas cheer in recent stories of neighbors writing nasty letters to others with grand light creations on their houses. In our own little neighborhood, until last week, we were the only ones with a large display of lights. One neighbor finally put a couple of strands out front.
As I might have mentioned before, I do understand those years of seasonal 'slimness', when cheer is low and all that can be mustered is a wreath and an undecorated tree. I just wonder where you all are on some of these 'classic' Christmas traditions:
Sending Christmas cards:
White or colored lights:
Old classics or new favorites:
I delayed the listening of Christmas music this year. With Thanksgiving coming later, and all of a sudden we were in full-on holiday season, I didn't get ready yet for fa-la-la and decking the halls right away. When I finally tuned in to the Christmas channel on our music tv channel and in the car, it seemed that a select few songs were on repeat - from 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' to chestnuts roasting, all done by various and sundry current artists, I was left empty, desiring songs of old. Days ago, I went to my Dad's Habitat for Humanity warehouse and beheld two magnificent sights...a wall of bookshelves full of old books and two racks of albums. I picked out several Christmas albums and promptly put them on the turntable when I got home (after a good cleaning). How joy stirred at the resounding crescendo of a choir, heralding the birth of the Savior through the crackles and pops of vinyl. Amazing that each album was perfect. No skips.
What traditions of old do you cherish?
December 16, 2013
Christmas Memories
This week's Monday Listicles is all about Christmas memories. What a precious gift we are given in the ability to hold onto times past. To be able to bring forth moments of great treasure, to hold them like a looking glass. Here are some of my highlights over the years:
1. One of my most amazing moments growing up was waking up to find a turntable stereo sitting there Christmas morning. I have loved spinning the tunes since I can remember - since my red and white clock record player upon which I would play my Wizard of Oz album. Those were the days, really. Vinyls. Pardon while I wax nostalgic but there is just something fabulous about putting needle to finite thread woven across a round disc, and music bursts forth. Really.
A short story - a walk down memory lane. That same stereo, a few years later likely saved my bacon from all sorts of trouble. There was this guy I had been 'dating' if you can call it that, before I was allowed to date. He was a bit of a possessive individual. His name was one that could be the headliner of some magic show in Vegas. At any rate, I went through a spell in my early teens where I slept on the floor. I don't know why but most nights, I would drift to sleep sprawled across a pallet of blankets on the floor with my headphones on, that same stereo set to the radio. One night, soon after Mr. Vegas and I had declared a break up, I was stretched across my childhood bedroom floor at the foot of my bed, listening to music, headphones on. I must have drifted to sleep because at some point I startled awake and glanced up in my dresser mirror to see a shadow reflected up above, leaning in my window. The screen had been removed, and probably because I routinely sat up in my bench ledge window with the window open, I had recently left the panes unlocked. A figure was now up in that space, leaning in over my bed. I froze. Pushing my body as far up under the foot of my bed, I tried not to breathe. In the morning I discovered he'd tossed bark from the front of my house into my bed, along with a note. I locked the windows from that point forward. creep-y
2. ALL the memories of my Christmases with my Granny and Grampy. Truly, they were all treasured. The year I tromped through the woods behind my grandparents' house, trying to hop from footprint to footprint of my grandfather to find the perfect cedar. To running the circle around the staircase in the lakehouse and laughing hysterically with my cousins as the tinsel would reach out to zap our charged, sock-footed bodies. Staring into the vintage wooden candle carousel. One year I received my Michael Jackson Thriller album there. I loved watching my Granny make the biggest mess in the kitchen, and the running joke at dinner every year was the food being passed every which way.
3. The other Christmas of my growing up years would have to be the year we had moved from Texas to Georgia. It had been a trying time for my family. We had left only a month prior, and I had yet to settle in. I mourned for my Texas home, and all the friends I'd left there. That year, my parents tried to make Christmas extra special. I would only learn later, as an adult, that they literally had nothing but scrounged and found enough to buy a few 'wants' for us to make things easier. One of those things had to be assembled. Loudly. My Dad had been hammering and pounding pressboard in the wee hours of the morning. My brother and I hovered at the top of the stairs. We couldn't sleep. My parents caught wind of our staking out the stairwell. Suddenly, we heard sleigh bells and my parents yelling, "Alright! Merry Christmas! Santa's been here! Come on down stairs!" We had Christmas at 3 a.m - my little family. My parents had even re-enacted the scene from Christmas story for my brother, only it was a skateboard and not a bb gun. We bonded that year. Then we all piled into bed and slept right until noon.
(Are these getting lengthy? Apologies.)
4. Fast forward to my more grown Christmases - my first married Christmas. First of all, I thought it was the COOLEST thing ever that I was given a Christmas wedding shower. Since I got married in September, my in-laws' church put together a Christmas shower and I got all kinds of beautiful Christmas pieces that still come out every year, including my nativity. So our first year, we were poor college students in a cheap townhouse away from our families for the first time. Hubs wanted to make it special. He bought this bicycle second hand and spraypainted it - hunter orange...... dont' ask me why. It was sitting in the living room that morning. We couldn't afford much in the way of decorations so we bought a 'half' tree, a three-footer propped up on a small corner table. I made the star from a box of sequins I had in my 'teacher craft' stuff, and yarn wrapped around a toilet paper tube. It makes its appearance every year, partially hidden on a lower bow. The worn and weathered star, a testament.
5. Can I be honest and say that the next couple of years of Christmas were a blur? We had married young. Our Eldest came along the following year, while we were trying to manage a business and finish school. I had full-blown post-partum (didn't know what it was then...). I can vaguely remember sitting in the rocker in my living room staring at the lights through a wash of tears. Tears that were always there, rimming the surface. Memories just the same.
6. The next funny memory I have is of our Eldest, around age two and a half, taking off in sheer terror down the hall Christmas morning. He was completely overwhelmed by the sights. His Mama had done the same around the same age. It was priceless.
7. One of my favorite memories was our gift of a trip to Washington D.C. to our kids/family on Christmas morning. We got up and had Christmas at home, complete with a pet goldfish that grandparents had to come tend while we were gone. We had packed the truck (picture the Clampetts) the night before. We headed up to D.C. in one of the coldest years on record. It was one of the best trips I can recall. Experiencing that with my kids at a very ripe age for their appreciation of it all was the absolute best.
8. One year we, as a family, did Christmas for one of my students. A precious, precious boy and his Mom and three siblings. We took it all over one Christmas Eve, and got invited in to their trailer for store-bought cookies and water. I will never forget seeing the dollar frame holding the school photos of the children, 'SAMPLE' stamped across their faces. A mama's love, ensconced in cheap plastic.
9. It was a couple of years ago, at least. The year it snowed ON Christmas. Here in the South, that is a big deal. News of the century. Snow. On Christmas. It was the most perfect Christmas day. EVER. We woke to that silent blanket of white and the soft, nonsound of the falling snow. Family members called to say 'Merry Christmas' but that they were staying off the roads this year. We lounged in front of a movie, and I distinctly remember falling into that peaceful sleep that is all-trusting. All day, off and on, we lounged, and played, and laughed together. I made a big dinner for just the four of us, and we ate it in our pajamas. It was this beautiful slice of heaven that I long for, even today.
10. Last year, I will never forget daughter's Boyfriend showing up at the front door, gifts in hand, in his pajamas. He knew how we did Christmas around here. He had slipped away in his flannel while his Mom slept off a headache (she likely would not have approved of his apparel). He grinned sheepishly as my daughter opened the door in her fleece jammies and crazy socks. He hung out with us all day, lounging, drifting in and out of sweet sleep, movies and a big dinner and games, all in our pj's.
Here's to another year of beautiful memories. For the ones yet to be had. For the ones dreamed of and unrequited. For the ones of years gone by.
Merry Christmas.
1. One of my most amazing moments growing up was waking up to find a turntable stereo sitting there Christmas morning. I have loved spinning the tunes since I can remember - since my red and white clock record player upon which I would play my Wizard of Oz album. Those were the days, really. Vinyls. Pardon while I wax nostalgic but there is just something fabulous about putting needle to finite thread woven across a round disc, and music bursts forth. Really.
A short story - a walk down memory lane. That same stereo, a few years later likely saved my bacon from all sorts of trouble. There was this guy I had been 'dating' if you can call it that, before I was allowed to date. He was a bit of a possessive individual. His name was one that could be the headliner of some magic show in Vegas. At any rate, I went through a spell in my early teens where I slept on the floor. I don't know why but most nights, I would drift to sleep sprawled across a pallet of blankets on the floor with my headphones on, that same stereo set to the radio. One night, soon after Mr. Vegas and I had declared a break up, I was stretched across my childhood bedroom floor at the foot of my bed, listening to music, headphones on. I must have drifted to sleep because at some point I startled awake and glanced up in my dresser mirror to see a shadow reflected up above, leaning in my window. The screen had been removed, and probably because I routinely sat up in my bench ledge window with the window open, I had recently left the panes unlocked. A figure was now up in that space, leaning in over my bed. I froze. Pushing my body as far up under the foot of my bed, I tried not to breathe. In the morning I discovered he'd tossed bark from the front of my house into my bed, along with a note. I locked the windows from that point forward. creep-y
2. ALL the memories of my Christmases with my Granny and Grampy. Truly, they were all treasured. The year I tromped through the woods behind my grandparents' house, trying to hop from footprint to footprint of my grandfather to find the perfect cedar. To running the circle around the staircase in the lakehouse and laughing hysterically with my cousins as the tinsel would reach out to zap our charged, sock-footed bodies. Staring into the vintage wooden candle carousel. One year I received my Michael Jackson Thriller album there. I loved watching my Granny make the biggest mess in the kitchen, and the running joke at dinner every year was the food being passed every which way.
3. The other Christmas of my growing up years would have to be the year we had moved from Texas to Georgia. It had been a trying time for my family. We had left only a month prior, and I had yet to settle in. I mourned for my Texas home, and all the friends I'd left there. That year, my parents tried to make Christmas extra special. I would only learn later, as an adult, that they literally had nothing but scrounged and found enough to buy a few 'wants' for us to make things easier. One of those things had to be assembled. Loudly. My Dad had been hammering and pounding pressboard in the wee hours of the morning. My brother and I hovered at the top of the stairs. We couldn't sleep. My parents caught wind of our staking out the stairwell. Suddenly, we heard sleigh bells and my parents yelling, "Alright! Merry Christmas! Santa's been here! Come on down stairs!" We had Christmas at 3 a.m - my little family. My parents had even re-enacted the scene from Christmas story for my brother, only it was a skateboard and not a bb gun. We bonded that year. Then we all piled into bed and slept right until noon.
(Are these getting lengthy? Apologies.)
4. Fast forward to my more grown Christmases - my first married Christmas. First of all, I thought it was the COOLEST thing ever that I was given a Christmas wedding shower. Since I got married in September, my in-laws' church put together a Christmas shower and I got all kinds of beautiful Christmas pieces that still come out every year, including my nativity. So our first year, we were poor college students in a cheap townhouse away from our families for the first time. Hubs wanted to make it special. He bought this bicycle second hand and spraypainted it - hunter orange...... dont' ask me why. It was sitting in the living room that morning. We couldn't afford much in the way of decorations so we bought a 'half' tree, a three-footer propped up on a small corner table. I made the star from a box of sequins I had in my 'teacher craft' stuff, and yarn wrapped around a toilet paper tube. It makes its appearance every year, partially hidden on a lower bow. The worn and weathered star, a testament.
6. The next funny memory I have is of our Eldest, around age two and a half, taking off in sheer terror down the hall Christmas morning. He was completely overwhelmed by the sights. His Mama had done the same around the same age. It was priceless.
7. One of my favorite memories was our gift of a trip to Washington D.C. to our kids/family on Christmas morning. We got up and had Christmas at home, complete with a pet goldfish that grandparents had to come tend while we were gone. We had packed the truck (picture the Clampetts) the night before. We headed up to D.C. in one of the coldest years on record. It was one of the best trips I can recall. Experiencing that with my kids at a very ripe age for their appreciation of it all was the absolute best.
8. One year we, as a family, did Christmas for one of my students. A precious, precious boy and his Mom and three siblings. We took it all over one Christmas Eve, and got invited in to their trailer for store-bought cookies and water. I will never forget seeing the dollar frame holding the school photos of the children, 'SAMPLE' stamped across their faces. A mama's love, ensconced in cheap plastic.
9. It was a couple of years ago, at least. The year it snowed ON Christmas. Here in the South, that is a big deal. News of the century. Snow. On Christmas. It was the most perfect Christmas day. EVER. We woke to that silent blanket of white and the soft, nonsound of the falling snow. Family members called to say 'Merry Christmas' but that they were staying off the roads this year. We lounged in front of a movie, and I distinctly remember falling into that peaceful sleep that is all-trusting. All day, off and on, we lounged, and played, and laughed together. I made a big dinner for just the four of us, and we ate it in our pajamas. It was this beautiful slice of heaven that I long for, even today.
10. Last year, I will never forget daughter's Boyfriend showing up at the front door, gifts in hand, in his pajamas. He knew how we did Christmas around here. He had slipped away in his flannel while his Mom slept off a headache (she likely would not have approved of his apparel). He grinned sheepishly as my daughter opened the door in her fleece jammies and crazy socks. He hung out with us all day, lounging, drifting in and out of sweet sleep, movies and a big dinner and games, all in our pj's.
Here's to another year of beautiful memories. For the ones yet to be had. For the ones dreamed of and unrequited. For the ones of years gone by.
Merry Christmas.
December 14, 2013
Upending the Junk Drawer
It has been a while since my last 'Junk Drawer' installment. (That would be this one.) I would say that this one is more likely the Christmas version, only it is a Rubbermaid tub containing the biggest mismatch of festive nicknacks over the course of time. If you are new to my 'junk drawer' concept, it is essentially a post that contains bits and scraps of events, musings and other disjointed sparks of whimsy my noggin has contained of late.
We all know the nature of junk drawers - it collects everything, filling up with the packs of candles with the remaining two not invited to the birthday cake; the 42 pens that don't work and pencils with broken ends; the spool of tangled fishing line in a house where no one fishes. This analogy between a junk drawer and our minds became clear when I sat down one night to construct a post and various, random thoughts pinged about like an 80's pinball game. I thought, "Why not just post it all? It's like a junk drawer! Nothing connected or related to anything else, but all belonging just the same."
Sometimes you just have to yank that drawer out and upend the thing, scoop most of it in the trash and start with a clean (and blissfully empty) receptacle.
What is in my overstuffed Rubbermaid tub this time of year?
Well, I have spent quite a bit of time between October and now thinking about and talking through Best Girl's break up with Boyfriend back in the fall. This has been especially hard since she is not at home, and on nights when the pain of it is sharpest, I can not console her by letting her curl up on my lap and cry. It has been, and continues to be hard on her, and quite honestly on me too. I grew to love him and he became like a part of the family. He even went with us on our trip out to Washington/Idaho this past summer. Since it happened long distance, I felt the abruptness of it left me hanging, without a chance to talk to him myself, so I asked him to meet me a few weeks ago while I was out shopping in the town where he commutes to school. I had to tell him that unlike most parents who never feel like anyone is quite good enough for their daughters, he was never the case. I thanked him for his treatment of her - with utmost respect, and honor. I had to hug him and let him know he is loved and that we are here for him, always. I told him, life is far too short not to tell people how you feel, and that was what I had to do that rainy day in November. He smiled his reserved, James Deanesque smile, and hugged me back. Who knows what may transpire over time? There have been stories of people finding their way back to loves they thought they'd lost. I bought him a Christmas present anyway. He had borrowed my tattered copy of Walden and other collections by Thoreau. He brought back to me, lamenting he hadn't read it all. I found a beautiful hardback copy. Every writer/thinker/wanderer needs Thoreau in their life.
Speaking of presents, there is a line in one very popular Christmas song that has baffled me since I was a child - "Please have snow and mistletoe and presents in/on/under the tree". Apparently the original song contains the version of 'on the tree' but that would seem problematic if you were to put that large box containing a set of power tools ON the tree. Weird thought, I know, but one that has plagued me since I was little. I can distinctly remember riding home in the car during the Christmas season and "I'll Be Home for Christmas" would come on the radio and suddenly I was envisioning a tree literally crammed full of boxes ON the limbs. To me decorations went on the tree and presents went under it. Then some versions of the song came out with the presents IN the tree and I was befuddled. IN? As in hiding in the branches? I guess that could be fun...
The other day I was sitting in the doctor's office toaccompany pay the bill for my son who had recently developed an icky staph infection after being sick with some sort of virus. He is far too old for me to truly go with him into the patient's room, so I whiled away some time in the waiting room. I was only there to pay the copay after all. What I witnessed astounded me. There were three sets of families with children in the room. Two had children ages three and under and the other was a mom with her teen daughter. There was an elderly couple, and then another couple in their forties. EV.ER.Y SIN.GLE. ONE.OF.THEM.WERE.ON.THEIR.PHONES. All except the elderly couple and the one forties-ish woman because she was obviously sick and leaning on her husband's shoulder. He was on his phone intermittently between hugs and nuzzles and smooches on his poor, sickly wife.
There seems a burgeoning trend of folks, and especially parents of young children constantly on their phones. It was so strange to look around the room and see moms and dads, husbands and wives, daughters and toddlers all with heads bent over their electronic device. One mom came into the office and promptly handed over her phone to her three-year-old, to occupy him, I am guessing. The young family of four across from me had Mom and Dad, both on theirs, while their three-year-old son played (loudly) with the toy at the children's table and an infant sat, largely ignored, on the floor in a car seat. At one point, the mother asked the son to stop playing with the toy to come 'look at jeep parts with your Daddy' on his phone.
Is it just me, or does it seem like this is insane? I sat there just looking around, and realized that, out of boredom, I could have just whipped out my phone too, but decided - NO. I am NOT going to join this madness. What else could I do to use my time besides scroll aimlessly on my phone? So I got out a scrap of paper and made my grocery list and cleaned out the filing cabinet that had become my purse. The difference in the older generation not relying on their cell phones and the younger generation seemingly not being able to go without them is curious and interesting to me.
Since it seems as though we went from having very little technology to WHAM! everything technological in a short amount of time, there is very little talk about the impact this all will likely have on our lives long term. What is this doing to the language and social development of children? How is it influencing relationships and families? Very little is said about the need for setting perimeters and proving boundaries for the content children have access to so freely, and yet it all there, literally at their fingertips.
Is it just me or is it surreal how much we seem to now live our lives through our screens? Or am I just getting contrary and cynical? Speaking of living it out in front of a screen, I think I'm going to go and read a book. A real one, with pages and ink.
We all know the nature of junk drawers - it collects everything, filling up with the packs of candles with the remaining two not invited to the birthday cake; the 42 pens that don't work and pencils with broken ends; the spool of tangled fishing line in a house where no one fishes. This analogy between a junk drawer and our minds became clear when I sat down one night to construct a post and various, random thoughts pinged about like an 80's pinball game. I thought, "Why not just post it all? It's like a junk drawer! Nothing connected or related to anything else, but all belonging just the same."
Sometimes you just have to yank that drawer out and upend the thing, scoop most of it in the trash and start with a clean (and blissfully empty) receptacle.
What is in my overstuffed Rubbermaid tub this time of year?
Well, I have spent quite a bit of time between October and now thinking about and talking through Best Girl's break up with Boyfriend back in the fall. This has been especially hard since she is not at home, and on nights when the pain of it is sharpest, I can not console her by letting her curl up on my lap and cry. It has been, and continues to be hard on her, and quite honestly on me too. I grew to love him and he became like a part of the family. He even went with us on our trip out to Washington/Idaho this past summer. Since it happened long distance, I felt the abruptness of it left me hanging, without a chance to talk to him myself, so I asked him to meet me a few weeks ago while I was out shopping in the town where he commutes to school. I had to tell him that unlike most parents who never feel like anyone is quite good enough for their daughters, he was never the case. I thanked him for his treatment of her - with utmost respect, and honor. I had to hug him and let him know he is loved and that we are here for him, always. I told him, life is far too short not to tell people how you feel, and that was what I had to do that rainy day in November. He smiled his reserved, James Deanesque smile, and hugged me back. Who knows what may transpire over time? There have been stories of people finding their way back to loves they thought they'd lost. I bought him a Christmas present anyway. He had borrowed my tattered copy of Walden and other collections by Thoreau. He brought back to me, lamenting he hadn't read it all. I found a beautiful hardback copy. Every writer/thinker/wanderer needs Thoreau in their life.
Speaking of presents, there is a line in one very popular Christmas song that has baffled me since I was a child - "Please have snow and mistletoe and presents in/on/under the tree". Apparently the original song contains the version of 'on the tree' but that would seem problematic if you were to put that large box containing a set of power tools ON the tree. Weird thought, I know, but one that has plagued me since I was little. I can distinctly remember riding home in the car during the Christmas season and "I'll Be Home for Christmas" would come on the radio and suddenly I was envisioning a tree literally crammed full of boxes ON the limbs. To me decorations went on the tree and presents went under it. Then some versions of the song came out with the presents IN the tree and I was befuddled. IN? As in hiding in the branches? I guess that could be fun...
The other day I was sitting in the doctor's office to
There seems a burgeoning trend of folks, and especially parents of young children constantly on their phones. It was so strange to look around the room and see moms and dads, husbands and wives, daughters and toddlers all with heads bent over their electronic device. One mom came into the office and promptly handed over her phone to her three-year-old, to occupy him, I am guessing. The young family of four across from me had Mom and Dad, both on theirs, while their three-year-old son played (loudly) with the toy at the children's table and an infant sat, largely ignored, on the floor in a car seat. At one point, the mother asked the son to stop playing with the toy to come 'look at jeep parts with your Daddy' on his phone.
Is it just me, or does it seem like this is insane? I sat there just looking around, and realized that, out of boredom, I could have just whipped out my phone too, but decided - NO. I am NOT going to join this madness. What else could I do to use my time besides scroll aimlessly on my phone? So I got out a scrap of paper and made my grocery list and cleaned out the filing cabinet that had become my purse. The difference in the older generation not relying on their cell phones and the younger generation seemingly not being able to go without them is curious and interesting to me.
Since it seems as though we went from having very little technology to WHAM! everything technological in a short amount of time, there is very little talk about the impact this all will likely have on our lives long term. What is this doing to the language and social development of children? How is it influencing relationships and families? Very little is said about the need for setting perimeters and proving boundaries for the content children have access to so freely, and yet it all there, literally at their fingertips.
Is it just me or is it surreal how much we seem to now live our lives through our screens? Or am I just getting contrary and cynical? Speaking of living it out in front of a screen, I think I'm going to go and read a book. A real one, with pages and ink.
December 13, 2013
HIJACKED
Let me set the scene for you:
It is the wee hour. (whatever that is for you) I am sitting here beside my tree, infusing its warm and alluring light along the walls. The fire is flickering. The Frames' sonorous strain filtering in the near darkness.
More importantly -
I AM DONE.
I entered and submitted all grades exactly 2 hours and 51 minutes ago. (Cue rebuttals and whining in 4-3-2-1.....)
I decided to celebrate in these quiet moments by climbing up into my sorely neglected virtual hammock to catch up, sway, reminisce and just "be".
Imagine my alarm when I glance through my blogroll to find a whacky, strange, 'uninvited' intruder there. Have any of you had weird 'blogs' show up in your blogfeed?????
The likes of -
It is the wee hour. (whatever that is for you) I am sitting here beside my tree, infusing its warm and alluring light along the walls. The fire is flickering. The Frames' sonorous strain filtering in the near darkness.
More importantly -
I AM DONE.
I entered and submitted all grades exactly 2 hours and 51 minutes ago. (Cue rebuttals and whining in 4-3-2-1.....)
I decided to celebrate in these quiet moments by climbing up into my sorely neglected virtual hammock to catch up, sway, reminisce and just "be".
Imagine my alarm when I glance through my blogroll to find a whacky, strange, 'uninvited' intruder there. Have any of you had weird 'blogs' show up in your blogfeed?????
The likes of -
Sidang-sidang Wali Songo - MASALAH ADAT ORANG-ORANG JAWA
"written by" (accentuated air quotes here...) ...... joe cgp
Sandwiched between one of my writer blogs I follow and my favorite farmer, Ken in-a-tractor...
ELEVEN POSTS LIKE THIS:
Sidang-sidang Wali Songo
MASALAH ADAT ORANG-ORANG JAWA
Pada suatu ketika Sunan Kalijaga mengusulkan agar adat istiadat orang
jawa seperti selamatan, bersaji dll tidak langsung ditentang, sebab
orang jawa akan lari menjauhi ulama jika ditentang secara keras. Adat
istiadat itu diusulkan agar diberi warna atau unsur Islam.
Sunan Ampel bertanya atas usulan Sunan Kalijaga itu.
Apakah adat istiadat lama itu nantinya tidak mengkhawatirkan bila
dianggap ajaran Islam? Padahal yang demikian itu tidak ada dalam
ajaran Islam. Apakah hal ini tidak akan menjadikan bid'ah?
Pertanyaan Sunan Ampel ini dijawab oleh Sunan Kudus.
Sandwiched between one of my writer blogs I follow and my favorite farmer, Ken in-a-tractor...
ELEVEN POSTS LIKE THIS:
SIDANG-SIDANG WALI SONGO - MASALAH ADAT ORANG-ORANG JAWA
MASALAH ADAT ORANG-ORANG JAWA
Pada suatu ketika Sunan Kalijaga mengusulkan agar adat istiadat orang
jawa seperti selamatan, bersaji dll tidak langsung ditentang, sebab
orang jawa akan lari menjauhi ulama jika ditentang secara keras. Adat
istiadat itu diusulkan agar diberi warna atau unsur Islam.
Sunan Ampel bertanya atas usulan Sunan Kalijaga itu.
Apakah adat istiadat lama itu nantinya tidak mengkhawatirkan bila
dianggap ajaran Islam? Padahal yang demikian itu tidak ada dalam
ajaran Islam. Apakah hal ini tidak akan menjadikan bid'ah?
Pertanyaan Sunan Ampel ini dijawab oleh Sunan Kudus.
WHAT IS THIS??!?!?
Should I be alarmed?
I am a little wigged. Sprinkling holy water on my screen and changing my password as we speak.
December 11, 2013
I.am.almost.done.
Oh my word, I am almost DONE with this semester... just a few more things to grade and finalize and then to endure an all day meeting tomorrow (PLEASE, if you think of me tomorrow, send some loves, prayers, positive fuzzies...anything. Send a rescue helicopter. Send a teleporter. Better yet, just send for me with your teleporter. Rescue me to where you are.) That's how much I 'adore' meetings. All.day.
At any rate, I have been up and about in the kitchen throwing together various and sundry dishes for two (count them - TWO) food events for tomorrow (Yes, sprinkled in and around that all day meeting. An introvert's "dream". Ha ha.). After having listened to a Christmas channel while working earlier, I decided my ears needed just a short intermission from fa la la la la and hopped over to my blog to roll through songs I'd posted on here.
DAAAAAAAAAAANG
I have a lotta tunes up in here!!!
I missed Monday Listicles this week, which was 10 WISHES This Christmas but of the top of my head, I have one.
1. A complete compilation of all my songs from my blog on one convenient thumb drive (or as one of my student's calls it - 'nerd stick') for my automobile listening pleasure.
I may work on that little project over break.
I have enjoyed strolling on back through my music, and being back here makes me look forward to being here a little more in the days ahead.
Come oooooooon Friday!!
At any rate, I have been up and about in the kitchen throwing together various and sundry dishes for two (count them - TWO) food events for tomorrow (Yes, sprinkled in and around that all day meeting. An introvert's "dream". Ha ha.). After having listened to a Christmas channel while working earlier, I decided my ears needed just a short intermission from fa la la la la and hopped over to my blog to roll through songs I'd posted on here.
DAAAAAAAAAAANG
I have a lotta tunes up in here!!!
I missed Monday Listicles this week, which was 10 WISHES This Christmas but of the top of my head, I have one.
1. A complete compilation of all my songs from my blog on one convenient thumb drive (or as one of my student's calls it - 'nerd stick') for my automobile listening pleasure.
I may work on that little project over break.
I have enjoyed strolling on back through my music, and being back here makes me look forward to being here a little more in the days ahead.
Come oooooooon Friday!!
December 8, 2013
Post in Pictures (and song)
I am sure I have so much catching up to do. Soon. For now, I will share this post in pictures, of my Thanksgiving trip to the shore, to spend time with my Best Girl. I am convinced now - a whole 'off' season spent at the sea is in my future.
Amidst the birds of the sea
The moody moods of the ocean
Sand art by Mother Nature
I'm not scared of most things. Jelly fish - this, I fear.
Pelican perch
God's promises
Daisies spread far along the shore
God's promises Part II
My 'guilty indulgence'
Words in the sand and a story to follow
Promises over the sea
Critters
More critters
More words in the sand
The many moods of the sea
This song as I set out on my 12+ mile walk....
Every word - true.
Running the race like a mouse in a cage
Getting nowhere but Im trying
Forging ahead but Im stuck in the bed
That I made so Im lying
Getting nowhere but Im trying
Forging ahead but Im stuck in the bed
That I made so Im lying
But if you keep real close
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me still?
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me still?
Eager to please, trying to be what they need
But I'm so very tired
And I've stopped trying to find any peace in my mind
Because it tangles the wires
But I'm so very tired
And I've stopped trying to find any peace in my mind
Because it tangles the wires
But if you keep real close
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me still?
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me still?
The sound tires on my lips
To fade away into forgetting
To fade away into forgetting
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me still?
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me still?
November 25, 2013
10 Favorite Words
I have an unfinished post for LAST week's Listicles...still sitting there....waiting, feeling besmirched and bereft. Yep. That is the nature of my getting to just about ANYTHING I want to do for pure enjoyment.
I have 10 (thousand) million zillion reasons to be giddy right now - I basically have tomorrow for classes (yes, we are one of the few three schools that still hold to the 'old' Thanksgiving week schedule of still actually having classes Monday and Tuesday - ppfffpft) and I am blowing off Tuesday because it is technically a non-office hour/work day and dadgum - if someone were to question my departure, I would kindly offer to see them my full weekend's of work and raise them multiple fourteen-hour days. I think I have quite earned the blow off. 'We seeeeeeeee yeh!' (said in classic redneck dialect and volume)
I will be hopping in the car (and yes, I WILL hop with pure joy) to make the trek down to spend Thanksgiving with my best girl as she breaks for Thanksgiving Wednesday afternoon. We are doing something we've never done before - spend the holiday at the beach...(WHAT?!) and will enjoy fellowship with Eldest's beloved's family, of whom we have never met. Why not?
I had a virtual marathon - a grading marathon, that is. All weekend. I do not want to drag anything with me school-related if I can help it (although I might check email once. Maybe twice.).
Speaking of marathons, all of my heart results show that I am apparently one of those kinds of runners with a perfectly healthy heart...not kidding. Dr. looked at me and goes, 'So you must exercise intensively...', after which I fell off the examining table from sheer laughter and shock. I had to confess that, no, as of late, my exercise consists of schlepping about 40 pounds worth of binders and books/laptops and other assorted crapola to and fro and the brief jaunt taken each day from one campus building to the next. Yeah, I'm hardcore like that. But at any rate (punny), my heart is good to go for some more days on this marble, apparently. Chalk it up to my lovely autoimmune intermittent spazz intervals and learn to deal. Moving on.
I will either a) dive head-long into the opportunity to post and chat your heads off (the collective handful of you still around, whistling and looking at the clock waiting on any sparse and rare word here in the hammock), or b) completely dive head long into being fully present with the loved ones I GET to share this journey with day in and day out. I may try both, so stay tuned.
Shoot, I am supposed to be posting for Listicles - WHAT A GREAT TOPIC ALREADY!! 10 FAVORITE WORDS!! ONLY 10??? Here goes:
1. Grace - sweet, precious grace - all-consuming and like a salve to the soul. I love the line in a popular song, "If grace were an ocean, we'd all be sinking."
2. Reunite/reunion - Okay, maybe not the high school variety unless it is the small, selected version. There is something so sacred and lovely about the word that means "together again".
3. voluptuous - I like this word. I am growing to embrace it. It is fun to say. It means healthy and full and bountiful.
4. cacophony - it begins with 'C' (favorite letter) and it was such fun to teach to six-year-olds.
5. embrace - All that this word encompasses.
6. Serendipity
7. Mellifluous
8. El beso
9. whisper
10. Juxtapose
So I decided to work 'smarter' today to try and knock out all that I needed to do, so I donned this:
I think it worked! Grading done! (Some) packing finished! A Monday Listicles post complete!!!
I have 10 (thousand) million zillion reasons to be giddy right now - I basically have tomorrow for classes (yes, we are one of the few three schools that still hold to the 'old' Thanksgiving week schedule of still actually having classes Monday and Tuesday - ppfffpft) and I am blowing off Tuesday because it is technically a non-office hour/work day and dadgum - if someone were to question my departure, I would kindly offer to see them my full weekend's of work and raise them multiple fourteen-hour days. I think I have quite earned the blow off. 'We seeeeeeeee yeh!' (said in classic redneck dialect and volume)
I will be hopping in the car (and yes, I WILL hop with pure joy) to make the trek down to spend Thanksgiving with my best girl as she breaks for Thanksgiving Wednesday afternoon. We are doing something we've never done before - spend the holiday at the beach...(WHAT?!) and will enjoy fellowship with Eldest's beloved's family, of whom we have never met. Why not?
I had a virtual marathon - a grading marathon, that is. All weekend. I do not want to drag anything with me school-related if I can help it (although I might check email once. Maybe twice.).
Speaking of marathons, all of my heart results show that I am apparently one of those kinds of runners with a perfectly healthy heart...not kidding. Dr. looked at me and goes, 'So you must exercise intensively...', after which I fell off the examining table from sheer laughter and shock. I had to confess that, no, as of late, my exercise consists of schlepping about 40 pounds worth of binders and books/laptops and other assorted crapola to and fro and the brief jaunt taken each day from one campus building to the next. Yeah, I'm hardcore like that. But at any rate (punny), my heart is good to go for some more days on this marble, apparently. Chalk it up to my lovely autoimmune intermittent spazz intervals and learn to deal. Moving on.
I will either a) dive head-long into the opportunity to post and chat your heads off (the collective handful of you still around, whistling and looking at the clock waiting on any sparse and rare word here in the hammock), or b) completely dive head long into being fully present with the loved ones I GET to share this journey with day in and day out. I may try both, so stay tuned.
Shoot, I am supposed to be posting for Listicles - WHAT A GREAT TOPIC ALREADY!! 10 FAVORITE WORDS!! ONLY 10??? Here goes:
1. Grace - sweet, precious grace - all-consuming and like a salve to the soul. I love the line in a popular song, "If grace were an ocean, we'd all be sinking."
2. Reunite/reunion - Okay, maybe not the high school variety unless it is the small, selected version. There is something so sacred and lovely about the word that means "together again".
3. voluptuous - I like this word. I am growing to embrace it. It is fun to say. It means healthy and full and bountiful.
4. cacophony - it begins with 'C' (favorite letter) and it was such fun to teach to six-year-olds.
5. embrace - All that this word encompasses.
6. Serendipity
7. Mellifluous
8. El beso
9. whisper
10. Juxtapose
So I decided to work 'smarter' today to try and knock out all that I needed to do, so I donned this:
November 13, 2013
Southern Comfort
There is life in me yet. After a full tilt day today, I was just walking through the kitchen for my nightly mason jar of ice water, and had a flickering thought, 'Well, I still have a pulse', and immediately following, a one-liner prose, 'My pulse, flatlined - until it's met with the very thought of you.' I guess zombies can still craft poetry. Maybe I will see what I can do with that to shape it into something more.
At any rate, I put together my Monday Listicles on Sunday - and now it's Wednesday. These days, they all blur into one. This topic I can identify with so I thought I would contribute my list. 10 Things that Bring Me Comfort.
1. Music - It isn't hard to see over the life of this blog that music is interwoven into just about every aspect of my life. There are songs that have given me hope and provided balm to my world-weary soul when life just gets to be too much. I have many that offer specific solace to a particular need. Sometimes it is simply the acoustic strum of guitar, or melodic flow of piano. One song that does stand out as an 'all-time comforter' to me is the hymn, "It is Well with My Soul". To know the back story of this song, is to grasp 'peace that passes all understanding'.
2. Poetry and words - Words comfort me equally with music. Sometimes it is in the receiving of well-timed words from others, and sometimes the release comes in penned words welled from within. I haven't written any poetry (fridge or otherwise) in a long time, and the gap is felt.
3. Being outside - particularly beside water. My latest jaunt on a beach (Cocoa Beach):
At any rate, I put together my Monday Listicles on Sunday - and now it's Wednesday. These days, they all blur into one. This topic I can identify with so I thought I would contribute my list. 10 Things that Bring Me Comfort.
1. Music - It isn't hard to see over the life of this blog that music is interwoven into just about every aspect of my life. There are songs that have given me hope and provided balm to my world-weary soul when life just gets to be too much. I have many that offer specific solace to a particular need. Sometimes it is simply the acoustic strum of guitar, or melodic flow of piano. One song that does stand out as an 'all-time comforter' to me is the hymn, "It is Well with My Soul". To know the back story of this song, is to grasp 'peace that passes all understanding'.
2. Poetry and words - Words comfort me equally with music. Sometimes it is in the receiving of well-timed words from others, and sometimes the release comes in penned words welled from within. I haven't written any poetry (fridge or otherwise) in a long time, and the gap is felt.
3. Being outside - particularly beside water. My latest jaunt on a beach (Cocoa Beach):
4. The entire experience of coffee - Let's face it: coffee aficionados appreciate every aspect and nuance of coffee. From the anticipation upon waking that in a short time, you will have coffee, to the sound of the coffeemaker echoing in morning's quiet, the aroma permeating the house, wrapping the chill of the rooms in tangible warmth. The unique 'slerge' sound of coffee pouring into a mug. The swirl of cream to create that perfect camel sweater color. Heat emanating through the porcelain to cold hands. The first, sharp sip of hot liquid on lips. All of it. If you love coffee, you know what I am talking about.
5. Sunshine - In every shape or form. I love the way it warms and casts arrays through clouds, reminding me of God's Majesty. I love the way it reflects off of water, sand, glass. I love that it flickers off of leaves, and when you squint, looks like glitter. I love the way it provides patches of warmth, perfect spots for basking for my dog.
6. White noise - Much to the chagrin of Hubs, I adore white noise. I have come to realize that it helps me concentrate. I have my mother to thank for this, for she is the one who introduced me to the comforting lull of a clothes dryer sound. I remember being very small, and standing beside her at the washer and dryer, and she would take out a still-warm towel or blanket, wrap it around me and we would sit beside the dryer, leaning against it as it whirred. I can not sleep, to this day, without the sound. My favorite is the hairdryer, but Hubs loathes this, so I try to keep this 'fix' contained to my small hovel of a spot on the end of the couch where I am often ensconced to work.
7. Coziness of being at home - More and more, I am finding that I thoroughly and completely love being at home. Not that I am a proclaimed homebody, necessarily, but I am growing to enjoy just being at home more than I ever have before. Not that I don't adore traveling (that won't ever fade), but on a day-to-day basis, I am happy just to stay put. It does make it harder on Mondays to propel myself from the house. At times, it is almost a physical 'discomfort' in having to get back out 'into the world'. I know - introvert probs.
8. My local Mexican restaurant around the corner. Long ago, I broke the link between food and comfort, but even still, it can't be denied that food plays such a part of our lives in the enjoyment of this life and the people in it. So when I was trying to think of a particular food to fit into the category, I came up with a place instead. We have gone to this restaurant since moving into this house over eight years ago. We often go once a week. For me, it holds more than just a place to eat out of convenience. It holds memories of our gathering to meet friends. Squishing up in the booth with our kids, and sometimes their friends, and laughing too loud. The one booth I affectionately call our 'hidey hole' because it is around the corner, through the bar and in the very back, hidden from view, and the spot for dates with Hubs. We have solved many a problem over that basket of chips. We've also crafted many a plan in that little cubby. They know our names there. They call my daughter 'Princess'. They know what I order - every time: taco salad, no meat extra beans. It is 'home away from home' to me.
9. Driving at night. Aaaaaahhh.....I love a nice, long drive at night. The hum of the tires, music turned low, the soothing dark with only the glow of the dashboard lights.
10. Swaying movement - hence the hammock. I find the rocking, swaying sensation to be very comforting. I love being out on a boat. It harkens back to the carefree days of swinging in childhood.
So there you have it.
8. My local Mexican restaurant around the corner. Long ago, I broke the link between food and comfort, but even still, it can't be denied that food plays such a part of our lives in the enjoyment of this life and the people in it. So when I was trying to think of a particular food to fit into the category, I came up with a place instead. We have gone to this restaurant since moving into this house over eight years ago. We often go once a week. For me, it holds more than just a place to eat out of convenience. It holds memories of our gathering to meet friends. Squishing up in the booth with our kids, and sometimes their friends, and laughing too loud. The one booth I affectionately call our 'hidey hole' because it is around the corner, through the bar and in the very back, hidden from view, and the spot for dates with Hubs. We have solved many a problem over that basket of chips. We've also crafted many a plan in that little cubby. They know our names there. They call my daughter 'Princess'. They know what I order - every time: taco salad, no meat extra beans. It is 'home away from home' to me.
9. Driving at night. Aaaaaahhh.....I love a nice, long drive at night. The hum of the tires, music turned low, the soothing dark with only the glow of the dashboard lights.
10. Swaying movement - hence the hammock. I find the rocking, swaying sensation to be very comforting. I love being out on a boat. It harkens back to the carefree days of swinging in childhood.
So there you have it.
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