Touching Base~~A Bit of Rambling

I don't know why I chose the pic of the ice-burned ivy leaf.  It could be that I've not picked up the proper camera in several months, thus I've resorted to using whatever current image found in my phone's pic album.  It's a thing, posting something most recent, no matter what the subject.

Perhaps it does fit the mood.  A bit of a rottenness, a blemish.  Though not enough to spoil the whole of the thing.  And the leaf still lives, clinging in defiance to its vine.  Sorta like me, I guess.  Anyone who knows me well can vouch for my stubbornness.  And I just keep on living.  Take that cruel world!  HaHaHaa! (^.~)

I'll get to the point (sort of)...

All week, I've known I need to update the FitVlog.  And I will.  I'm just late.  Terribly.  It's an issue with a previous video causing the hesitation.  Remember this post Nothing But a Thing ?  The video mentioned in the post is still in limbo, due to yet another copyright claim~~they pop up like mushrooms.  Funny thing, this particular claimant (IODA) is connected to Sony in some way.  After some investigating, I found the artist who provided the royalty free music used in the video is also connected with Sony, and he gave me permission to use the music.  Now, I can no longer find the music on the stock media site I got it from (Pond5.com), though I do hold a license to use it.  Is this proof enough?

All I know, it's taking forever to get the claim released, it seems, which has me a bit worried.  I feel confident in my dispute, but the powers that be may go against me.  The next course of action is unclear.  Maybe it doesn't seem like a big deal at the moment, but I suspect it could be.  And, really, YouTube is what I enjoy doing.  For now, at least.  Why would I want to mess that up?
(>.<)

As I type this, I'm in the zone.  Headphones clamped to my head with sounds of peace streaming out of them.  This time it is a four hour long playlist.  Do I need that long to say a thing? haha!  It is common practice for me to seek out long stretches of music to help focus or inspire thoughts.  Most of the music I've not heard prior to clicking play.  What I'm hearing now is lovely, so far.  Aren't we lucky they've chosen to share it with us so freely?

I just had a thought, were I writing this on paper, there'd be scrawling and sketches all about.  Things circled, highlighted and colored.  It would be a fun thing to be able to write select-able text freehand, while maintaining its "freehand" appearance.  I've created my own font, but that's not quite the same thing.  I'd like to be able to save the scrawlings, too, in this digital blogging-type format.  Something tells me this is possible somewhere.  I just haven't discovered it yet.

This reminds me of my neglected websites, where I used to make things like webpages with my sketches and raw freehand style, amongst other experimental things.  So much of that fun stuff was lost when I changed hosting plans.  Well, not lost, just saved in external hard drive aether.  When I've more time (soon, I hope) I need to work on those websites.  Pity not to use them for something.  So many fun things to do, so little time!

~~Ohh...I've come to a spot in the music where they've mixed in soft sounds of rain.  Nice.~~

Moving right along...
Yes, there will be a FitVlog update.  I'll be filming more of the workouts starting later today.  After a bit of sleep, which I've not yet had.  (O.o)  As I mentioned once, somewhere, the workouts have been repeating each week~~we are starting to get good at them.  Which of course means they'll soon change and get more difficult!

Also, I need to make some tutorials.  Viewers have mentioned the bracelets I wore in my ring tutorial and wanted a video about them.  I think I'll do that.  Just need to get focused.  Pull my gaze from the clouds, calm the inner storm of uncertainty.  Soon.

So much to do, so little time~~ (^.^)v

     


          

 

Fitness Ramblings Day 12

This is kind of a personal mental purging.  Read on if you wish.  You've been warned! (~.^)

So I'm sitting here staring at my video editor, quite amused at the vidclips I've stuck in it.  The first thing I should have noticed when using the GoPro Hero3 camera, was how fishy the lens was.  Well, okay, I did notice, but I didn't care.  The amazing amount of view I can get with the camera is pretty fantastic!  And when I need to shoot a workout video, you can at least see what I'm doing with my feet.

My feet... (((raucous laughter)))

I'm cracking up just thinking about it.  If the video has anything to say about them, it would say that those feet are tiny lil' thangs!  Tis not true, I say.  The vid would also mention that my midsection is my biggest part.  (~.^)  I dare say there is one other area that can take claim to being the largest.  Jus' sayin'.

Just for my own future reference, this is what I mean...

By the way, the vid I'm working on will likely be ready to go in a day or so.  I hope to finish most of it tonight.  No guarantees.  (^.^)v

Anyhow, this leads me to wonder if I've misrepresented my starting point in all this.  I suppose it's possible others will see my videos and think it must be difficult balancing on those tiny lil' feet!  But perhaps, it's just me reaching a point of concern about what others must see.  This way of thinking blooms into a whole mess of feelings I've been avoiding.

A thing that happens when one starts a new journey, one unintentionally gets to revisit the journeys of old.  At least for me, anyway.

I've figured out some nasty stuff about myself over the years.  One such item, I tend to avoid feeling uncomfortable, when at all possible.  Emotionally, that is.  I uncover this truth each time I change my diet.  And now it has happened with my most recent attempt at getting back into shape.

A friend of mine who does videos about weight loss and juice feasting mentioned something similar to what I'm going through.  He said that along with the physical detox comes the emotional one.  And sometimes it's pretty powerful stuff.  Now, I've not yet done a full-fledged juice feast, but I have become vegetarian over the past couple of years.  Let me tell ya, the emotional detox is pretty real!  I'm noticing it now, since I've re-started my workout program.  It's almost enough to make a gal quit.  But I won't.  Not this time.

When a person adopts any kind of fitness program, if they don't keep at it, any progress made will eventually be lost.  I know this from personal experience.  You pretty much have to change your lifestyle.  If you don't, it's back to square one with you!

(sigh) ~~deep cleansing breath~~

I feel a little better now.  I'll check back in later, just in case the blue cloud of self-doubt considers another over-head hover session.  Gah~~

(^.^)v  

         

End of the Sleepies

There's that moment when you just know it's time to go.

For me, it happened tonight.  After a long simmering doubt about my decision to work the night shift, I finally called it quits.  Rather unceremoniously, at that.  I simply didn't go to work.  I know, I know.  Not the best way to announce a resignation.  But if you knew the conditions I worked under, you'd understand.

It'll take me a few days to recover.  To get back on schedule, reconnect with those who rise with the sun.  After which, I'll resume the making of videos, get back to my workout plan and write more.  Oh, and there's that photography thing!  I look forward to all of this with great zeal.

Maybe the only regret I should have is that I'll likely be deemed "un-hireable" by the company I worked for, in the event I should apply for work there in the future.  This is actually my safety-net, as it were.  It'll keep me from making the same mistake.  It'll help me focus on what I really should be doing.  This is good for all concerned.

Tonight, I'm shaking off the grogginess and refocusing my eyes.

There is ice outside.  Plenty of it.  I'll close this post with a pic or two.  Enjoy~~

  

The Mask and the Moon

Recently, I started doing something I swore I'd never do again.

I've taken on a job, which is actually a good thing.  However, this job happens to be on the graveyard shift.

The last time I worked nights, about 12 years ago, I said it would truly be the last time.  Each time I tried working when the stars came out, I felt an erosion of connection between those in my family whose waking hours are spent squinting in sunlight.  Oh, and then there is the zombie-like feeling of constant sleep-deprivation.

It's surprising I'm able to string these words together.  But then, the sun still sleeps and I'm wide awake right now.  Come daybreak, and all of this will abruptly melt into sparkling puddles of gibberish!  

Still, the night shift has its benefits, to be sure.  Particularly for those with night-owl tendencies, such as myself.  I feel most creative at night.  When at home, that is.  Somewhere along the way I said to myself, I'm awake anyway, why not get a job... get paid...  
Sort of an idiotic, or perhaps delusional, thing to tell myself.  Creating things for yourself in the moonlight is a bit different from going to a job of someone else's creation.  Well, idiotic, except for the "getting paid" part.  Ha!

I do appreciate that I've found a job.  Interestingly, it's with the same company I thought I'd never work for again.  When one goes looking for night jobs, one can't be too picky, I suppose.  And I need to work nights, because my schedule has to blend with everyone else's in the house.  This seems to be the only way.

And so...

When the moon rises in its enormous distortion and the stars sparkle as though it's for the last time, I put on my mask and venture out to complete mind-numbing tasks for money.  Some of those who work with me have a similar story.  And whilst they feel comfort in sharing their entire life with me and all those around them, it is doubtful many, if any, will know who I truly am.  Some things are sacred.  I'm simply more of an observer anyway.  They seem fine with just the basics and appreciate my ear.  Of course, as with many workplaces, there are a catty few who'd have me choose sides.  They'll quickly find that I'm not one to join cliques.  I prefer to hover around the edges, being kind to the kind.

Do you ever have moments when you are chatting with people and mentally mark it as somehow important, or special, the conversation being had?  There are times, whilst sitting amongst certain peoples, it strikes me.  Particularly with people who are transient.  Those from other countries, or those who plan to travel elsewhere to pursue other jobs.  The feeling is different.  The conversation, completely different than those who've been with the same company for 20-some-odd years, in the same town...  Priorities differ.  Interests.  Just a thing I've noticed.

I suppose I should keep up with this blog.  It could be the thing that reminds me of my true identity, else it be lost in the haze of blurred and sleep-filled eyes.  I should do a video on this!  On occasion, one needs to be reminded of why they do what they do.  That there is a bit of purpose to it.  If not, it's time to look elsewhere...  Which reminds me to keep my eyes open...  always~~~^*^        

                   

Fireside

fireside ©shaunachan2012

It is often around the backyard firepit where the depth of our discussions tend to grow.  There is something about the slithering flames and upward fleeting of glittery sparks that get the synapses firing.  

Though our intentions are good, we've come to no definitive answers about much of anything in particular.  Just more possibilities.  Our changing minds burning across ideas, leaving white hot ashes of the old ones behind still glowing then dimming.    

Fortunately, this refocusing happens almost painlessly.  I suppose it is so, because the simplicity and warmth of a gentle set of flames makes for such a peaceful setting.  A stick's poke at the glowing branches ignite a brief excitement of fireflies, and a new topic arises.

Changes are afoot.

In all of it, I hope to continue posting here.  It will likely be necessary.  In fact, this blog may in some ways return to its roots.  The place where things get sorted out.  Where I may come for a bit of fireside reflection.  

I worry I'll have time for little else.  Yet, I hope to continue to devote time to the YouTube channel.  I do enjoy posting videos there and have plans to do much more in the future.  I'll elaborate more on this later.

In the time since my last post of any kind, the world has gone mad, it seems.  A thing I have noticed, though, there are voices of reason not only enduring but presenting  themselves stronger than before.  Thank heavens for this!  We can be somewhat assured all of humanity is not yet completely lost.  

I don't think I'll say much more on this, as the sadness is quite profound.  Any solutions will take kinder hearts, deeper understandings of human nature, and courage.  Lots of it. 

 

    

 

  

Little Rose

It was "Field Day" at the younger daughter's school today. It was late in the day when she showed me the rose tattoo. A little something she got for the occasion.

The temporary tat suits her. Rose is her middle name, which is reason enough. And too, she is lovely as one.  She is also quite resilient.

The other day, I was in the garden trimming the rose bushes.  One bush, that blooms deep red, had gone leggy and flowerless, as it is normally known to do this time of year.  It is most likely meant to climb.  The other bush grows much too close to the climber.  It is my daughter's rose.  She chose it for it's lovely coral-pink hue.  I worry for that bush, so I often trim back the larger one's tendrils to give it room to breathe.  And breathe it does.  It is a frequent bloomer.  Right now it is covered in blooms.

To be sure, trimming roses takes a bit of care.  In my haste, I'd brushed my bare arm against a stem. A fair thorn stuck itself in the flesh.  A touch painful, yes.  A bruise appeared a day or so after the incident.  My reminder not to be taken in by the light sweet fragrance, dismissing the strength underneath soft petals.

There is more I'd care to write about on this night, though my eyes are daring to shut.

Until next time then...~~~<<3


  

Slightly Odd--A Note to Self

Sometimes, I have those moments of sheer awkwardness.  I know, we all have such times.  It doesn't seem to change much even when you get older, I've noticed.  The difference now is, I don't really care how odd I may appear to others.  Age has its benefits.

It's funny the things you tend to remember from your childhood.  When I was a kid, I used to like to dress differently than other kids.  It was the age of rap music and break dancing, so I sported some sweet Nike shoes and some fat neon laces.  I thought it was cool.  And I could dance, too!  Which probably surprised some people.

But, it wasn't cool.  Apparently.  At least to some of the more, shall we say, "acceptable" kids.  One of them made fun of my shoes, saying they had bumpers on them like footwear for the mentally challenged.  Everyone laughed.  Nice boy, that one.  The class comic.  He fixed it, though, years later.  He actually asked me to watch movies with him once.  He even gave me a heart-shaped box of candy one Valentine's and apologized for being a jerk.  Sort of.  What he actually said was, "Let's face it, you were kind of a dork."
Nope, I didn't forget that.  And I never faced it, because I'd always thought he was kind of the dork, among other things.  O' course, I never watched movies with him either.  I envisioned some sort of Carrie scene unfolding.  And the candy, well, I hesitated a bit, but it was chocolate!    

Still, unkind words like those of Mr. Hilarious were said.  Kids made fun all the way up to the high school years.  I suppose it happens to the best of us.  And, really, it steels you for the real world.  Because you realize, you don't need to be popular or travel in a pack to be cool.  I often wondered if they ever felt comfortable in their own skin.  Those cruel beings.  Comfortable enough to walk the halls alone or have lunch solo, like a few of us did.  To see one of them in college, as I often did, was an eye-opener.  There was real fear in their eyes.  Flocks of students they didn't know, who couldn't give two hoots about their own shoes even, must have shaken them to the core.  Satisfaction, indeed.      

We're all older now.  I see how they've turned out through social networking.  Ah, the famous Facebook.  I'd like to think they are better people now.  Most of them rarely speak to me, still.  But it's sort of vanilla, anyway.  It makes little difference.  The world is far bigger than school and those we knew in it.  I wish everyone well.  Really.  Even the funny guy.  Surely he now knows how precious life is and how difficult it can be for youngsters and certainly for their parents.  He's got kids of his own.

Which leads me to another thought.  I wonder, do they, the "acceptable" ones, mold their own children to fit the mainstream?  Maybe the youngsters just naturally go that route.  Even so, I remember hearing of talk amongst the faculty at schools my brother and I attended.  They'd try to help students fit in by the mention of hairstyles they should wear and clothing that would be more appealing to the others.  If you were somehow different, they could fix that.  Egad.  I hope that practice has ended.        

Now, to me, sitting here with myself in the quiet, I'm quite satisfied with my quirkiness.  Though, when I venture out, I still get the sideways glances.  I've yet to fully understand.  I suppose they can sense that I'm slightly odd.  It's my own fault.  When I speak of a thing, whatever it may be, I may get too passionate about it.  My face is overtly animated, I think.  It must be.  Because an awkward moment happens.  It leaves people speechless.  Haha!  Or maybe, it's the shoes!

No matter.  I seriously think, the whole concept of squashing oneself into a mold of some sort of conformity is pretty much a soul-killer.  It's been tried, by me.  Normal, mainstream stuff.  Wearing the cropped "mom" pants, etc.  It always ends up some distortion of what's expected, though, with my nearly all black wardrobe and black fingernails.  It's not intentional.  It truly isn't about me thinking my style is better than another's.  Live and let live, I say.  Let's just face it... some shoes don't fit!  Wear the ones that do.

Namaste (~.~)



        


 

   


 

   

Mr. Superior

Saturday, May 5, 2012, the moon in its supreme, super-ness appeared.

I'd almost forgotten, I admit.  And this is not a likely thing for me to do.  Forget a celestial event, that is.  The sky, after all, is a haven.  An escape from the wicked, chaotic part of life.  Where I cast my gaze for hours, searching for wee specks of light hidden in the ambient glow of city light.

If I think too much of it, the night, the sky, the stars, my heart aches and my eyes will moisten.  It's time for a visit to the open places.  The countryside, where few go, where the peace of the natural is.  Where, in the night, there are sounds unlike any you'll hear by day.  The place where the sky is full of the stuff of the universe.  And a dazzling universe it is.  A humbling space that can not help but put awe in us.

Yes, I nearly missed the big moon.  Perhaps, I'd been avoiding it.  Because there was little time to savor its presence?    

Still, the talk of, let's just say, "Mr. Superior", crept into conversations on the social networks.  In quips.  And then photos of it poured in.  Not wanting to miss out, I hastily grabbed my camera, not concerned with the lens attached to it, and bounded out the back door for a peek.  The sky was hazy.  Even so, there it was.  A great glowing orb hanging softly in the aether.

At this, I could stare for hours.

I know what is lacking.  It's the wondrous conversations I've had before, with those equally fascinated with what lies beyond our sphere.  Those who would sit on blankets for an entire night, just to glimpse a meteor shower's fireball.  And once one had been seen streaking from horizon to horizon, burning so brightly you could hear its sizzle, still wait for yet another even better fireball, till the sun broke the eastern horizon.  

It can't be recaptured, that feeling.  Though I've tried.

I'll keep trying.

 



            

 

Humility and Salad

---

This beautiful big salad is my brunch today.

In it is a mix of romaine, kale, spinach, carrots, celery, orange slices, a touch of salad vinegar and a tiny bit of salt. It's pretty yummy actually, and no doubt full of nutrients. Though I might have been able to avoid the salt and vinegar altogether for an even healthier meal. It'll take me a while to finish, to be sure. That bowl is bigger than it looks!

It's good to eat slowly. It's the best way to get the good out of good food and it gives a person time to think.

Yesterday, a good friend of mine said some things that struck a chord. He said it in a video he posted--he's been vlogging his raw foods weight-loss journey. Which, by the way, is going pretty well. Anyway, he mentioned how he felt the people around him seemed to be moving slowly, while he was speeding right along. He was irritated by it, I thought. Though, in some way, he seemed surprised at his irritation. I sort of understand what he's talking about. I used to live in that town. It's small, so things flow without urgency.

He remarked about an experience he had, whilst buying produce. The cashier, a slow one, an apparently largish one, set a bag of organic apples down rather harshly after ringing them up. He was rather annoyed by it. I suppose I don't blame him. Often cashiers are numb to the tedium of scanning hundreds of odds and ends of stuff. I know, I used to be one. Haha! The monotony sort of makes the eyes glaze over.

There were more things said in the video about shopping experiences and about the whole of the public. To sum it up, he was dealing with zombies. People walking around in a daze, who appear to have no idea what's going on around them and could care less to change it. It's more noticeable, perhaps, to a former zombie. Or even to an outsider. A tourist. He's become an unintentional tourist in his own hometown.

In the beginning, I found the video off-putting. I thought my buddy came off as slightly arrogant. It surprised me how uncomfortable it made me feel. And since yesterday, when I watched it, I've been trying to discern why that is.

So far, I think the reason is, I see myself in what my friend said. Not only am I the half-asleep cashier, but also the annoyed customer. No different than anyone else.

There have been many times I've made remarks about the lackadaisical behavior of the public. To be sure, an article or two about the subject can be found on this blog. Particularly in the early days, when the town I'm in was new to me. It appeared everyone was oblivious to one another. They seemed to shop that way, drive that way. Blind to the existence of other human beings. This was shocking to me. And a simple misunderstanding. Because now, since I'm no longer a tourist, I see something else here.

I see busy people. Troubled, cranky, normal people. Like me. We are in the same boat. And since there are so many of us here, all going with the flow, it is difficult to focus on just one or two at a time. Even so, when one of us has car trouble or gets hurt, many will stop to lend a hand. There is kindness behind those seemingly empty eyes. It's a bustling town and a big one. One in which, basically, we are all doing the best we can.

And so, when I feel like uttering a foul thing about another of us here, I have to remember my own imperfection. For certain, my attention is not always focused, nor am I always the kindest person there ever was. Being a better human is a bit of hard work, at times. When you make some progress at it, you just sort of want to shout it to the world, share the knowledge, teach the other humans.

I think that's what my friend's goal is. Sharing what he's discovered about truly living and feeling alive. Perhaps, he's a bit impatient about it, because it's become so obvious to him what needs to be done. No time to waste. Each and every moment is to be savored, appreciated... noticed. "Start living NOW!" in flashing neon lights.

He's right, you know. But, not everyone is ready. The work that needs to be done to achieve such clarity is not easy. Some may never reach that "A-ha!" moment.

Perhaps, what is needed is a bit of patience. And a modicum of humility. Remember those times before your enlightenment. Lest you risk alienating those you could teach. In my rambling, it would seem that is the point. At least, I think so.

Even so, my bowl is empty...
~~~
My friend's YouTube channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/gillgamas

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mid-summer blue

---

July, already. And nearing its end, no less.

The weeks are speeding by mysteriously, silently. I've only just noticed it.

No. The noticing started a day or so ago, when the sky in the day was the deepest of blue. Not just any blue. The scarce puffs of clouds were small chips of snowy bergs floating in a bottomless sea.

At the time, whilst marveling at the crisp clarity of the sky, I thought about taking a picture. Over the years, one of my favorite subjects to capture is cloud structure or simply the relationship a cloud has to the sun, or to the blue. But no. I did not rush to get the camera. I must have thought there was still time.

The next day presented itself in similar fashion. The sky an incredibly clear deep blue. Only a few small clouds for contrast. Still, I did not have camera in hand. So unlike me. But there it is.

What's been occupying my mind, creating a deficiency of attention, are the inside things. Computer work. And the sudden silly desire to acquire audio recording equipment. Techno-ADD, again. Since, after all, it's been hot outside. Really hot. Over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. This, for what seems like weeks. No rain to speak of. The grass is crunchy. The earth cracked, parched, baked. The leaves on the trees are beginning to show stress, curling, turning brown around the edges.

For this, we stay inside. There is little to be done in the hot.

At the beginning of summer, we busied ourselves with travel and swam a lot. It became nearly a daily event, the swimming. We tried to take a break from it and go for bike rides instead. But the heat sapped the energy, and the joy we'd normally find from such journeys. The crystal water of the pool was indeed much more inviting. The laze of an evening spent floating belly-up to the sky, waiting for the first stars to appear, pure bliss.


And then, it happened... The pool filter pump broke! And rather unceremoniously at that.

I found the water still, one day, the pump soundless. My job (one I've chosen) is to maintain the more than 4,000 gallon pool. And being a somewhat handy person, I grabbed the tools, unhooked the filter and proceeded to take the machine apart, hoping the fix would be easy.

But no. The plastic impeller had snapped in two. The thin plastic covering the magnet had worn away, the magnet corroded. These things could not be replaced on this particular pump. The model being somewhat cheaply made. Wish I had known sooner.

It would take a week to get a new filter pump. I'd become so addicted to our daily swim. The ritual of it. Not having to think too much about what would entertain the day. A week seemed near forever.

Though in that time, that small speck of time within the year, I could see the summer's haste to be over. Suddenly noticing it being mid-July. August will soon arrive. And with it, school will begin. For my youngest daughter this is all new.

And there it is. The root of it all. The youngest daughter, kindergarten. And in a year our little boy will follow. Before we know, the eldest daughter will graduate high school.

My mind is spinning. The time has gone so quickly. Though I'm certain I've done my best to relish each day. To squeeze every drop of simply being. Which, oddly, only trebled time's speed even more.

It happens on occasion. The sharp realization. That splash of ice water on the face forcing awareness of the truth. These 100 degree days only seem to last longer. Platinum bright, thick, syrupy and languid as they are.

Yet here time is. Rushing along just the same.

I suppose it's us, the grown-ups, willfully miring ourselves in some sameness. Stuck in a limbo, not moving forward. Not changing. Pleasantly fooling ourselves with pattern.

Whatever. It was fun.

Now it's time to get down to business. But don't forget the camera!

---

march ending...april beginning

To remember~~

plumage

Image info HERE.
My mind has been busy. I've not slept as much as I ought.

I'm not fond of great amounts of sleep. Just enough will do. Somewhere around 4 hours is fine. Beyond that, I dream too much and vividly... it's difficult to make any sense of it.

There are times my dreams have been disturbing. The things seen, on occasion, come to pass. I suppose everyone does this from time to time. It would be nice to dream about winning lottery numbers. HaHa! But no. Such is not the way for me.

I should document my dreams. I've been interesting characters who've done amazing things. In one adventure, I was James Bond-like. Sports car and all. Nice. But some dreams are seemingly mundane. Like images of unknown people walking by in some faraway land. Or flashes of objects like colorful fabrics, pottery, or jewelry.

My last dream was not clear or memorable for the most part. What I do remember is the very end of it. The moment before I woke up, a large peacock spread its feathers. The image has stayed with me today. It's meaning unknown.

starry night

The Perseids, my favorite night-sky event since I can remember, have eluded me the past few years.

I'm bummed.

Me thinks it is time to join a sky-watching group. Those who meet at night, in remote areas, surrounded by rich darkness to see what us suburbanites can't. Stars. Comets. Meteors. The beautiful night.

The stars, I sorely miss. Those few we can see, I cherish.

As for the Perseids . . .

I recall childhood summer camp-outs in the backyard. Eyes to the August sky. My parents, my brother and me.

As years went on, it would be my brother and I. Watching for the fireball. We'd always see at least one. The one so bright, burning from horizon to horizon. Sizzling in its flight, trailing a tail of smoke.

That ... I miss.

disquiet

We take our road trips to escape a place we feel unsettled in.

We travel to ease the disquiet and to search for a better way.

So far, we've found few answers. Though the journey has been fun, the constant uncertainty, the state of limbo we are in, causes a bit of anxiety.

Perhaps it is a case of cold feet.

There is something difficult about settling in a spot surrounded by so much land. A bit of the sea nearby would surely be lovely.

It is true, I come from a state smack in the center of the country. A wonderful state to be sure. We had twisters, I recall. Huge ones. Those kept us busy every spring. And there are a touch of mountains here and there. Peaceful country roads. Lakes. Loads of them.

And here, now, we find roads. Very long ones. Endless it seems.

Most recently, however, we've found...

Dust.

It is what hovers around empty, voiceless faces that crash into us at the grocery store. The dust we stand sputtering in, as we stand protecting our children from the parking lot crazies. Or that which swirls on the back porch, where a bicycle, now gone to thieves, once stood... Clouds of it kicked up when large stands of historic trees are felled for the sake of a giant concrete slab...
What fills our pockets, after forking over a small fortune to stake our tiny claim on... even more dust.

These things, seemingly small, mount up bit by bit.

We might expect to come unhinged, were it not for our hopeful spirits and a glimpse of the sea on a very distant horizon.

It happens from time to time, this cynicism. It'll be gone by sunrise. The steam from my coffee cup and the scent of rain on the children's hair will flatten the confusion.

Little smiles. The one person out of thousands who holds the door when the babies struggle and slip. A knowing glance from someone else who sputters in the dust. We need each other it seems.

The blocks, multicolored and many-shaped, my daughter and I stack to the sky... Our little boy's "Kung Fu Panda" impression... Big daughter's music, joyous laughter, the radiant smile. And that thing that happens to the husband when he wants to be aggravated at the raucousness of monkeybabies, but can't help a grin, a giggle and hearty laugh, because they are so darn cute!

The stars, how they do shine so in winter...

Keep it simple.

strange night

An odd air is about.

It is time for a road trip, for certain.

Seven hours southeast might do the trick.

A lovely drive it should be...

surface

When I first met my husband, I told him straight away of my distaste for surface conversation. The kind where the only item of interest might involve a quick forecast of wind direction and air temperature, with a poke of a wet finger toward the sky.

I got lucky. He is no scratch-the-surface kinda guy. Though our meaningful chats can sometimes get a bit raucous, they are by no means boring.

And here, whilst perusing my blog in search of a direction, I've found little more than a damp finger jabbed to the sky in search of a breeze.

I've censored myself considerably. Unintentional. Yet true.

What began as a place to scrape off the goo from the soul, has evolved into just another kind of gum to get stuck in. How did that happen?

Some might say I'm a nice person. Too nice to think diabolical thoughts. Not true, I say. I think them, but I feel ridiculously guilty afterwards! Well, except for my going vigilante fantasy. Guilt-free on that one.

Maybe, I'm just tired. Staying up too late, doing laundry. The mundane. Inspiration is elusive.

(Yawn)

For now, at least, "the way is shut".

light

Recently, I'd read remarks someone made about a dream they'd had concerning energy and colors. That people and things were energy of different hues.

I don't remember the source of the piece, though I was struck by the topic since I'd had similar thoughts about such a thing.

I've often imagined what it might be like were we to shed our shells and become the light that our souls must surely be. Perhaps we would be different colors, shimmery glowing things free to fly about the universe.

What might such a limitless dance feel like?

Maybe there is no feeling at all being not but a ball of energy. So then, could it be we are here as visitors to experience this life we know, in these fragile shells. . .

It seems we are all children stumbling through this existence, making our mistakes and learning, hopefully, to improve through the generations to an unknown end.

Ah well. . . As my dad might have once said, "It doesn't matter."

After all, what good does it do to ponder such things?

I'm not sure, but to suppose he might now be sailing across the galaxies in the purest of joy makes my heart feel light.

38

I'd never imagine ten years ago this is what 38 would look like. Or that so much chaos could happen between 0 and 38.

Already, I have decided to just call it 40. Why not?

Five years from now, I'll still be 40. :o)

But I don't mind the silver streaking through my hair. I find it interesting and full of character. I'll forever be 40 with strands of white twisting around a wizened face.

I'm not fond of birthday celebrations like most. No parties, no cakes, no big surprises necessary. Let the day fade into night.

A road trip, under a sky full of stars, is all I need. That, our little entourage, a touch of music, and my camera, of course.

Thank you, Husband, for letting me borrow this pic... :oD

edge

I do love the night rain.

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Particularly, when I'm on edge.

There is something soothing about the sound of falling drops tapping on the back porch. It is like music.

And the scent of rain, sweet, new.

The children smell like rain.

I do so love the rain.

blue

Turn off background music HERE, then come back up.

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The cause of today's melancholy is uncertain. Even still, it is a blue day.

The sky is clear. There is peace in the limbs of the trees, calmness hovers over tall grasses.

There is a mildness and sweetness in the air.

So what is this gloom?

Hmmm...

Perhaps, it is best to breathe in the beauty of this quiet, no need for an answer just yet~~~



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