Senses of Summer

I checked my calendar, and it's that time again (during the summer, I have to look to see what day it is - priceless): Monday Listicles.  I sat out of a few about beauty products and tv shows because I am not an expert or aficionado of either.  This week's topic?  Ten Things Summer.  I am all over that like a melted popsicle on a four-year-old.  

I've decided to do a theme around the topic for a different approach.  I have done similar lists about what I love about summer already (you can revisit here: Listacular Listicles or All the Reasons to Love - beach version) and while I could probably create an unending list, I thought a different slant would be interesting.

It is important for those who love to craft with words to be attuned to the senses.  I am of the belief that if more people would slow down to pay attention to what they see, hear, feel, touch or smell instead of plowing through their day, there might be less stress, less depression and more kindness (because let's face it, you can't experience the tickle of your pet's fuzzy muzzle on your hand and not smile).

So a compilation of summer through our senses.  Some of these are from childhood up until now.

Sens-ational Summer

1.  The first time you try salt on an ice cold watermelon

2.  Sharp crack of a bat echoing across a stadium

3.  Bikini/sundress/halter top strings that brush across your back (applies to the ladies only)

4.  A wafting of a neighbor's grilling on warm breezes

5.  The scent of a water hose and pool toys

6.  A distance thunderstorm swelling and moving closer that you can feel, see and smell

7.  Weightlessness of floating in a pool or the ocean

8.  The sting of a fan water sprinkler against the back of your legs

9.  The finalé of a 4th of July show booming in your chest to 'The Star-Spangled Banner'

10.  Stretching out under a fan or beside a box fan after a day of too much sun and drifting off to sleep                        
                                      

No Schedule Here Poetry

This was constructed on a Friday evening.  Last Friday evening, to be exact.  I had just posted the experience with my Mom at the pool so I decided to post another Fridge Poetry today.  I don't have a schedule right now, and I am pret-ty darn glad of it.  

Red Letter Day

Today, my Mom put on a bathing suit for the first time in approximately 35 years.

No big, stinkin' deal, you say?  You don't know my mother.

Somewhere along the way, over the course of time and doubts, fears and self-criticism that she let pile up, she came to the conclusion that she just didn't 'do' bathing suits anymore.  She didn't understand women who were heavier who would don a suit and frolic the beach, or prance around a pool.  ( I was always telling her, "More power to them, Mom.  They're out, active and doing something they enjoy.)  Nope.  She was having none of that.

A couple of weeks ago, she called me.  "You're not going to believe what I did."

Me:  "There is no telling, Mom.  What in the world?"

Mom:  "I  bought a bathing suit.  Ordered it online.  It should be here next week."

Me:  "That is AWESOME, MOM!  You go, girl!  What is your plan?"

She proceeded to tell me she'd been thinking about going to the county recreation center pool and start to exercise there in the water.  She reasoned it would be less burden on her feet (three surgeries there) and she could get some exercise (right now she gets - 0).  "Besides, the pool is inside" (she doesn't 'do' heat, or sun).  

Me:  "Well, that is just incredible, Mom.  Great idea!  Can't wait for you to get started on that!"

Mom"  "I want you to go with me.  I can't go by myself.  Will you go with me?"

Well, the bathing suit came in the mail a few days ago.  Apparently, when she got it, she locked my Dad out of the bedroom and would not let him see it when she tried it on.  Two days ago, I asked her when we were going to get to the pool, and we made plans for today.

Then yesterday she texted first.  'Can we SWIM on Mon?'  I called her promptly.  "Mom, what's up?"

  Mom: "About that pool 'date'.  I just don't think I can go.  I've got all these papers (her Dad's documents) spread all over the living room and dining room table.  I have GOT to get all this sorted and get it cleaned off my furniture, and...."

Me:  "Mom, you're retired.  Your whole day is yours.  You can crank out that task in a matter of an afternoon.  I am calling your bluff.  We are going to the pool tomorrow if I have to come over and hogtie you to the trunk of my car."

Mom: ".....Okay.  You're right.  You got me.  I am so self-conscious.  I just don't think I'm ready."

Me:  "So are you going to be more ready Monday?  Less self-conscious too?  Mom, you have just got to do it.  The first time is always hardest.  You'll see."

Mom:  "Oooookay.  You shamed me.  We'll go.  I'll pick you up at 10:15."

Today, we went to the pool.  We arrived at the same time another mother/daughter pair got there.  The daughter was dropping her Mom off at the door, and as we approached the door, the CUTEST little old lady got out - in her bathrobe and Croc sandals, hair wild white and askew.  I held the door for her, but as we scooted inside, we went on by her as she proceeded to take the slow lane to get to the sign-in counter.  

"You have pretty legs!" I hear from behind us and we both turned.  My mom wore her jeans (she doesn't 'do' shorts in public) and I had on my board shorts bathing suit bottoms.  "Well goodness, thank you!"  

Bless her.  That woman doesn't know what encouragement she gave since I've recently started back working out.  BLESS.HER.

We made it to the locker room, and then the pool.  I realized I wanted to get my towel out of the locker and keep it by the pool so I returned to get it.  When I came back out, my Mom had taken off her cover up and was wading her way down the ramp into the pool.  And she looked.absolutely.adorable.  

"Awwww, Mom!  You look great in that!!"

"You'd tell me if I looked like a blimp, right?"

As I dropped my cover-up and headed into the pool, the little old lady was already in the water, floating on her green noodle by the side.

'You've got a pretty figure!'  Bless her.  Bless every white hair on her head.

In the water, I saw my Mom transform.  She started floating.  Then she started backstroking toward the other side.  (she doesn't 'do' getting her head under water)

"This is wonderful.    I'm doing it!  Wow.  Look at me, floating!"

We floated.  We did leg lifts and butt exercises in the water.  We exercised our arms and swam several 'laps' to the side and back.  She love love loved it.  She was like a child that had to be dragged out of the pool reluctantly when it was time to go .  "I can't wait until Monday! I feel greeeat!"

Bless her.  

We found out later by chatting with the daughter that the little old woman, hair the color of milk, will be 91 in two weeks.  NINETY-ONE.  I told me Mom, if that dear soul could do it, she certainly could.

I also thought about how we all - we 'gals' want to be attractive.  We are self-conscious.  We notice the shape of our 'sisters', no matter what age we are.  It confirmed a lot of what I have believed about our souls, our true selves being timeless (and that being confirmed in a book I just read), yet held temporarily in these failing, frail, imperfect tents.  Beautiful, precious, imperfect girls, all of us, one and all.

I am so proud of my Mom.  It may seem small to others, maybe.  To me, to see her beam, and say repeatedly, "I don't want to brag, but I'm proud of myself" was a Red Letter Day.  Priceless.

  

Let's Not Talk About Junk Drawers

I have done a couple of 'Junk Drawer' posts before.  They are a random mash up of what happens to be clogging up the noggin at the time that must be emptied in order to make room for more stuff.  Only I have on my alleged summer project list to clean out drawers/closets/cabinets.....basement (shudder), and I am not sure I want to talk about, or think about junk drawers.  If you would like to revisit the previous Junk Drawer posts, feel free.  Junk Drawer Alphabet Soup style and the inaugural post - From the Junk Drawer of My Mind.  It's a conglomeration of nonsense mostly, but gah'head.

I haven't been here much lately.  It's okay if you're like, 'Huh?'  I get it.  One thing you find in the blog world is that folks come and go, and their participation waxes and wanes like the moon's phases.  I do notice somewhat of a slump of sorts in the summer.  I don't know if it is a result of all the A-Zers completely jet-lagging after that trip, or the fact that its summer and there's just too much fun to be had to be tethered to a computer.  For some, it can be overwhelming to try and keep up the pace of regular/weekly posting and commenting, especially if readership happens to grow.  It could be a case of losing your (literary) 'voice' as in Have You Seen It? or just a whopping Case of the Blahgs.  Interesting that the aforementioned post was done close to this time last year.  Hmmmmm.

I could try to deduce all the myriad of reasons I am experiencing this lull, or I can just press forward and push through it, come hell's fire or high water.  So another installment of my mind's Junk Drawer.  So where did I leave off before the stretch of Listicles and nothingness?  You could track through the recent posts to find a blistering end-of-semester (I'm not sure I am still prepared to talk about it), graduating my youngest, a traipse down to the Big Easy, a surprise get-away, and laying my sweet Papa to rest.  Next a whirlwind jaunt to retrieve my Eldest, and now we're back in the midst of parenting (?) a near adult/child/young person who's-not-independent-but-thinks-he-is.  Help us all.  Is there a book on that?  I'll save all that for another post.

So what have I been up to?

How about a song I heard today that harkens back to a younger day that I positively looooooooved:

Yeeeessss....full on 80's.  Lovely lyrics.  Wonderful experience - rain in the summertime.

A rain shower burst out of nowhere today, and I have to say, I love summer rain.  Several nights ago, I went out on the porch to wait for baby girl to come home and a full fledged thunderstorm was in progress.  I teetered between wishing it away so my daughter could get home safely, and wanting to stay out there all night, feeling the pound of thunder in my chest and watch the lightning.  Getting caught in the rain can be an adventure.  Take my recent NOLA trip.

When I finally decided to emerge from my blanket cave in my hotel and explore a bit of the city, a downpour deluged the streets out of nowhere.  It is hard to tell from the picture but the rain was coming in sideways and would change directions.  I had taken cover under an awning.  Why, I don't know.  I was already thoroughly soaked.  I stood there a few minutes and then continued to make my way back to the hotel.  I loved the walk in the rain (except that I had my camera backpack on) until I had to cross a street to get over to my hotel and slogged through water up to my knees to get there - I kid you not.  A city built below sea level instantly becomes a pond (or lake) when a summer shower comes along.  


Is this getting wordy?  Okay, well, apparently some of you like the photo collections so how about a little of that?  Now that I have been settled for a little bit, here's what's taken place (some things might include snippets from trips or other things - it's a Junk Drawer.  It's cluttered.)

Here's one from my trip - I can officially cross off something else from the Bucket List: drink from a coconut.  I watched these fellas scale a palm tree, lob off the coconuts from the top and haul them around in a wheelbarrow to sell.  They came by and I thought, 'Why not?'  They peel the top and then chop the bottom to make a flat surface should you want to set it down, all with a machete.  Pop a straw in it and voila!  Oh, and they splash a little 'somethin' in it as they hand it to you.  Now - while I did enjoy the crisp coconut water, my review of this particular beverage is that it would be much better cold.  It was warm from the previous perch atop the fronds of a palm tree.  I think it might be better chilled.  But I experienced it and would take it back to a mini-fridge to cool down if I were to do it again.

Now a sliver of advice:  if you ever find yourself in a locale with a swim-up bar.  Avoid.  I'd read several 'reviews' on various places and the unsavory comments about the swim-up bars, and witnessed this occurrence firsthand.  Take note of the patrons in the swim-up bar pools.  They are in there for HOURS.  Drinking.  A lot.  No one EVER gets out of there for bathroom breaks.  Put me in a kiddie pool with 4 babies who'd just had beets, beans and greens for lunch.  Seriously, this is gross.  Ick.

Life imitates art.  In other words, that hammock - manmade and limited, pales in comparison to the beautiful frailty of a spider's web.

I have made it a few times so far to my beloved hammock hidden back in the honeysuckle (my blog's namesake) so far.  I've said it before and I'll say it again - I truly wish I could transport you each there for a 2-hr drift experience in that tiny plot of earth.  My Mag-Mutt has taken to hammocking with me on occasion when she's not sniffing things and wandering.  Of course she clings to me like a stranded sailor on a life raft (what I was trying to capture here), but overall, I think she digs it.

I actually cooked something.  From scratch.  I made a completely homemade banana pudding for my Dad for Father's Day (his fave).  I am not usually a big 'foodie' and have to take pictures and tell you what I am eating for dinner on social media, but this was momentous.  Looks pretty dandy here.  I think I received my highest compliment upon serving it.  Ever.  My dad took several bites, and then said, "This takes me right back to Nannie's kitchen on weekends I would come home from A & M and she would have a banana pudding waiting for me."  

A quiet evening on the porch and then the sound of what seemed like muffled gun shots.  Intermittent.  Repetitive.  I ran barefoot out to the front yard to investigate.  I looked up and there were two hot air balloons passing very close near our house.  By then, a gaggle of neighbors were also out on their porches, out in the street, barefoot, donning the evening comfy clothing, and I thought, 'So this is what it takes to get people to come outside and look up?'

A staple in the summertime - frozen blueberries.  My first official bowl of the summer.  Bliss in blue. 

Another marvel (in my opinion) of Snow Patrol:

Finally, I did complete another installment of balcony dancing.  That song set included: 

So, I have some post ideas.  I think I might have a poem or two in me as well.  I want to be here more.  I aim to try.

Photolisticles

I skipped the last two Monday Listicles.  I'm not a big beauty product gal nor am I an avid television viewer so both topics were outside of my reach.  This week's Monday Listicles is Top 10 Photos that you took.  I'm all over it.  I'm late to the party, but here with lampshade on my head, nonetheless.  Next week's topic: Ten Things Summer:  I'm there.

Finding 10 favorite photos is like trying to nail down a favorite song for me.  Not that I am some sort of extraordinary photographer.  No.  Most of my photos are favorites for the meaning they hold - either in the subject or the theme.

To get a 'feel' for the types of photos I take, I did an overall appraisal of my phone photos to get an idea of what I find worthy of capture.  Aside from the 842 (give or take) shots of my daughter (goofy) and her 'selfies' of her most ridiculously zany faces, there is an abundance of my Fridge Poetry for posting, songs I come across that I want to remember from either Sirius radio or Pandora, major events (proms, graduation, nephews and nieces, trips, etc.  I also have a plethora of photographs of the sky in its ever-changing splendor, capturing its every mood.  My eye is also drawn to the way light and shadow play within a particular setting or moment.  There is also found the rarely captured mystery of the moon.

These are not exactly indicative of my 'best' photos in terms of what constitutes as expert photography.  There is no 'expert' here behind the lens.  Only a seeker of that which is beautiful and cherished to the eye of the beholder.

I will tell you now - I probably won't stop at 10.  I'll try, but I'm not making promises.

For the first one, I had to scour everywhere and still couldn't find it.  I remembered that I had posted it before: a candid of my daughter two proms ago.  My apologies for making you open another post but this is one of my favorite pictures - Vision of Beauty.  

This was from a run on my recent trip.  There is intense allure in a brooding shore.  The paleness of the scene captured me.

 Lots of pictures of flowers, up close.  So close you can almost smell them.

 Daughter and the Sea.

 My Granny in her element, after I painted her nails.

 So many roads that whisper to me, "Just go."

 Nephew and the butterfly.

 Love the lines of trees - this one in a rare patch of green space in Chicago.

This one in a courtyard in Charleston, SC.

 Different perspective of the famous 'Marilyn' sculpture in Chicago.

 One of the hundreds of sky pictures - this one of a bay in Nicaragua.

 Pier in Myrtle, SC.

 I love this one - a random evening out with the family and this, Eldest - depicted in his very essence, sister (the feet) beside him and Pops peeking over.

 Father and son in discussion.

Moon over Georgia - this one taken at a Friday Night football game through the goalpost.  

All That He Is

I have looked up to him from before I can remember.

My Dad.  He is so many things to me.  He is one of the few on this planet that 'get' me completely.  

I have a collection of photos to share, but I wish I had pictures of ALL that he is to me so I will try to create those in words.

My Dad is a Texas Saturday.

Growing up, Saturdays were 'project' days, whether it was mowing the lawn, fixing or replacing something, or building one thing or another in his shop out back.  I can still 'feel' those days when it is spring and I throw open the windows, listening to Elton John or the Eagles and the hum of a lawnmower outside.  He would put on his cut-off blue jean shorts and from the early morning hours until evening's approach, he would work.

He is Fireworks and Fourth of July.

My Dad could have a PhD in pyrotechnics.  This man loves his fireworks.  I can recall Independence Day celebrations where you can have your own good, ol' fashioned fireworks shows (and not the wimpy 'Flowering Garden' nonsense that spouts from the ground) that we would have a blast (see what I did there) launching fireworks off the dock at Indian Lake.  You haven't lived until you have seen starry bursts over water.  One year, he and my brother crafted this elaborate show...in my driveway.  They had constructed wooden holders and fused an intricate assembly of pyro genius.  Later, he put together a fireworks show, complete with coordinated music, effects, visuals - you name it.  If you're on Facebook, check out my album 'Light My Fire Extravaganza' for the documented event of fame.  This is how my Dad is concerning fireworks:

My Dad, along with his father, taught me a deep patriotism.  He served in the Air Force and has a love of country that is true.  One Fourth of July he made a compilation cd of patriotic music for me.  As part of the Fireworks Extravaganza, he reminded us of the proper treatment of the flag, particularly the appropriate disposal of a worn out flag.

He wrote this:

Okay - this was a lesson on civic duty for the respectful way to dispose of old, tattered flags. NEVER just throw them away. Read on: 

The US Flag Code states "The flag, when it is in such condition that it is no longer a fitting emblem for display, should be destroyed in a dignified way, preferably by burning". As long as it is a respectful disposal it is acceptable. But, for your best options, allow an organization that does this on a regular basis to do it for you. Where you are located you should have no trouble locating any of the groups I am about to mention.

Girl Scouts of America

Boy Scouts of America

Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW)

The American Legion

ANY MILITARY INSTALATION

You can also contact flagkeepers.org and they will supply you with an address to mail your flag to for disposal. If you can not contact any of the following groups in your area and dispose of your flag on your own, please do so in a quiet respectful manner that OUR Flag deserves. If by some chance none of the above helps you, repost ATTENTION TRIPLEA and I will make arrangements to retrieve the flag form you and ensure its proper disposal.

While you're at it, get a load of that van in the background.  I am telling you, he wasn't messing around with that show.

So of course he has passed on his love of all things pyrotechnic to his son and daughter.  We piled in his truck for a whirlwind trip to the inaugural fireworks contest in Ohio last fall.  That post is here:  Way to Go, Canada!  (Guess you can see who won!)

He is Knowledge.

This face.  A few years ago, armed with our cameras, we set out to chase waterfalls so that he could teach me the ways of photography (his passion).  We were on top of this cliff of rocks and he was teaching me something about a setting and I snapped this shot of him mid-explain.  It is priceless.  This face I know well.  He knows things.  SO many things, and he taught me much of it.  From patiently seeing me through teary-eyed torture algebra to changing a tire, driving, photography, using tools or any number of wood shop skills, this is the face of one who knows, and continues to learn so that he can know more.  

Dad is an Aggie.

He attended Texas A & M in the 60's.  He enlisted in the Air Force and did not complete his time there, but has had an intense love of A & M ever since.  You can imagine our sheer delight when the Aggies made their move to the SEC because we could suit up and enjoy more than one football game a year.  I share this fervor with him.  Gig 'EM!

He is Adventure.

A few years back, my Dad threw off the constraints of expectation and decided he wanted to completely immerse himself in these golden years of his life.  It may have started when I finally got up the nerve to 'confess' my idea of my solo road trip, and hesitantly extracted my Atlas to tell him of my plans, and his eyes leapt like a school boy's at the prospect.  Or it could have been mine and my brother's surprise skydive jump for his 60th birthday that sparked the realization, 'Why not?' and he created a real Bucket List.

He will tell you, that is NOT a thumbs up but a GIG 'EM in the air.

Since then - 

                                   

Up next, his Father's Day gift, a few zips around a track in a NASCAR racecar!  Check - one more thing on the list, down!

This post is long, but he deserves it.  This still doesn't encompass all that IS my Dad, but it is a start.  He is one incredibly remarkable person, and he just happens to be my Dad.  Happy Father's Day.  Thank you for giving me your creativity, inspiration, Cherokee heritage and more.  

If you'd like to check out his photographs, here is his website:  Somewhere In Time. 

Silent Sermon

“It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.”

St. Francis of Assisi

Yesterday we laid to rest my Papa, my grandfather - my Mom's father.  He passed away on Monday, and I learned of this news across the ocean and far away, my very sinew stretching over vast waters to be home with Mom and family.  On this Father's Day weekend, I wanted to first remember my Papa, and then honor my own Dad further into the weekend.  

He was one of the few remaining of the Greatest Generation.

He served in World War II.  This much I knew all my years growing up.  I had heard from my Mama that he never talked about it.  Never.  It wasn't until he was far advanced in years, and the edges of a blanketing Alzheimer's was beginning to cover his memories, as well as peel back that which kept the most horrific hidden in the shadows, that he began to talk about this time in his life, while working in his garden with my uncle.  He was a part of an infantry that went into Japan after the bombing, to stabilize and to aid on the ground.  His unit was instructed to dispose of any leftover MRE's after supper - mostly simple beans and rice.  My Papa, man of few words, spoke up on behalf of the starving people, particularly the children they witnessed walking through the streets.  When it was repeated that he throw them out, he decided to take them with a buddy, to 'dump' them far from base...and walked the streets to hand out those meals to the hurt and hungry.  He did this nightly. 

"For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,"

Matthew 25:35

This is how I best remember my Papa (on the right - my uncle Hal on the left, my second cousin, Tommy Clack, triple amputee Vietnam veteran).  He wore coordinating slacks, shirt tucked in, and belt.   All the time.  As a small child, I was always fascinated with the contents of his pockets - pocket protector in one with a notepad or paper, and pens and cigarettes in the other.  Tommy spoke at his funeral/send-off celebration and I learned that my Papa took Tommy in after he was released from the VA hospital, to care for him when his own family could not.  He also shared that my Papa visited often while Tommy was in the hospital, and later, would go with him to visit the other wounded soldiers and bring them gifts - a brown paper bag with an apple, and orange and one of his trademarks, a handful of peppermints.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed-" Luke 4:18

He taught me, and all he knew to respect nature and to use what is given for food, and then only what is needed, to leave undisturbed what is not, and to respect and use the tools to hunt and fish.  There are home movies, old rattly reel-to-reels of me, holding a rifle at four or five, encompassed within my Papa's arms, learning to aim, learning to hold it correctly and learning to handle a rifle.  My Papa lived off of what they hunted, never wasting any of it, always blessing God for provision.

'And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.' ~Philippians 4:19

                                                 

My last time spent with Papa - this past Christmas at my Mom's house.  This is Papa, with his three children.  Best memory to remember his humor and wit:  From the time I can remember, at Christmas, he was always the one to circulate the living room, scooping up paper and ribbon into a black trash bag.  He couldn't stand the mess and would waste no time in cleaning up the aftermath.  This Christmas, someone (ehm, brother...) started tossing wads of tissue paper at others, covertly.  Papa wasn't up and about, grabbing handfuls of paper to dispose like a crane this year.  A stray 'missle' bopped Papa on the chest.  

You have to understand - while he could crack a joke and had the best laugh, he wasn't one to tolerate 'nonsense', particularly in his early years.  I watched my Mom quickly try to quell the paper fight, when I look over at my Papa in the chair beside me, slowly crumpling red paper, looking sly, as he launched it right at me.  He laughed, and it hadn't aged like his mind or his body.  Tears sprung from my eyes along with a laugh to match his, and a paper war broke out between my 86-year-old grandfather and me.  

"He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting."

Job 8:21

Walk on, Papa.  We'll stroll the pastures when I get there.  You'll pull me in to your big Papa squeeze, call me 'Sugar' and tell me all the names of the flowers and plants you discovered while you're there.  Give Grandmama the biggest hug from me.  

Papa's favorite, Floyd Cramer:

Still Vertical, Taking in Oxygen

Hello to the four of you or so (and Russia), still checking in here at the hammock.  So hey - it's been a while, hasn't it?  I thought to do another Listicle, seeing that it is Monday and all, but it is a list about beauty products and I am just pretty basic where that is concerned, so I'll skip this one.  Like I skipped a Fridge Poetry on Friday.  Like I've been skipping posting anything much of substance here for  a while.

I have been traveling mostly, since the conclusion of the semester, and while I suppose I have experienced things I could write about, I am at a loss for words.  I have yet to share a graduation post.  I don't know what it is.  I have reasoned that it could be the "I" part of my personality and a need to withdrawal.  I thought maybe I just don't have anything worthy to say.  Or a worthy way of saying what I could write.  I don't know.

Anyone else ever get this way?  

I found this list writing prompt thing - a prompt per day, but nothing exhaustive that I could do.  Yes?  No?

I will say this:  where I am right now, I have seen more melons than a Saturday at the Farmer's Market, and have gotten my fill of all kinds of stomachs.  People, bodies come in ALL sizes and shapes and the mess passed off as photographs in most print materials is so chopped, smoothed, airbrushed and fake - give me a break.  The sooner we all quit buying that bogus pile of gar-bage, the better.  

So this to let you know I am around.  I hope to try to be more so at the end of the week.  Much love to all.

What I Notice

Hey hey - back from NOLA and hope to share a post or two on that soon.  First, it's Monday, which means Monday Listicles!!!  This week's list is "Ten Things I Notice About Others".  This list especially intrigues me because I tend to be highly observant and will usually check a person out intently, all the while carrying on a conversation about the weather.  Not in a creepy, obsessive sort of way, but I just really notice things about people, and then wonder more about them.  So if we meet, don't worry - I may be checking you out, but in a good way, because I am just highly captivated by people!

I could insert my observation list that I did while people-watching in New Orleans, but I'll save that for another time.  It did help me in thinking about what I actually to attend to, though I will keep my list to what I notice when meeting new people.

Ten Things I Notice About Others

1.  Hands - I love hands because they really can tell a story about the people attached.

2.  Wedding rings/bands - male or female, I always look for that next.  I always wonder about the spouse (if they're not present) and then wonder about the choice of ring and what that possibly says about the person.

3.  Eyes - They say so much about a person...windows to the soul and all that.

4.  Smile/dimples/laugh lines, etc. - A map of one's life can often be found right there on a person's face.

5.  Voice

6.  How a person treats others - If you are rude to old people, children or waitstaff/service folks, our conversation will be limited.

7.  Shoes - Of course.  Men or women, it doesn't matter.  I notice what you select to put on your feet.

8.  Intelligence - Nothing is more attractive than depth of thought.  Along with this - humor/laugh.

9.  If I meet a couple - I am very interested in their dynamic.  Have long been interested in relationship pairings, interactions and such.

10.  If on the beach - stomachs...I can't help it.  I have stomach envy.

Happy Monday!